When, through enjoyment (or indeed through pain) which takes possession of some inner strength, the soul is gathered up round that alone, 4 it can’t,… - Dante Alighieri

That infinite and indescribable good
which is there above races as swiftly
to love as a ray of light to a bright body.

It gives of itself according to the ardor
it finds, so that as charity spreads farther
the eternal good increases upon it,

and the more souls there are who love, up there,
the more there are to love well, and the more love
they reflect to each other, as in a mirror.

Hear me and then consider: am not I
The keep and key
Of all the torments sorrow can combine?

There are souls beneath that water. Fixed in slime
they speak their piece, end it, and start again:

'Sullen were we in the air made sweet by the Sun;
in the glory of his shining our hearts poured
a bitter smoke. Sullen were we begun;
sullen we lie forever in this ditch.'
This litany they gargle in their throats
as if they sand, but lacked the words and pitch.