From heaven his spirit came

From heaven his spirit came, and robed in clay,

The realms of justice and mercy trod.

Then rose a living man to gaze on God,

That he might make the truth as clear as day.

But for that pure star,

that brightened with his ray

The undeserving nest where I was born,

None but his maker can due guerdon pay.

I speak of Dante whose high work remains Unknown

Who rose a living man to gaze on God,

That he might make the truth as clear as day.

Were I but he! Born for like lingering pains,

Against his exile coupled with his good

I'd gladly change the world's best heritage.