Who fishes for the truth and wanteth skill. 
And open proofs of this unto the world
Have been afforded in Parmenides,
Melissus, Bryso, and the crowd beside,
Who journey’d on, and knew not whither:  so did
Sabellius, Arius, and the other fools,
Who, like to scymitars, reflected back
The scripture-image, by distortion marr’d. 
     “Let not the people be too swift to judge,
As one who reckons on the blades in field,
Or ere the crop be ripe.  For I have seen
The thorn frown rudely all the winter long
And after bear the rose upon its top;
And bark, that all the way across the sea
Ran straight and speedy, perish at the last,
E’en in the haven’s mouth seeing one steal,
Another brine, his offering to the priest,
Let not Dame Birtha and Sir Martin thence
Into heav’n’s counsels deem that they can pry: 
For one of these may rise, the other fall.”

CANTO XIV

From centre to the circle, and so back
From circle to the centre, water moves
In the round chalice, even as the blow
Impels it, inwardly, or from without. 
Such was the image glanc’d into my mind,
As the great spirit of Aquinum ceas’d;
And Beatrice after him her words
Resum’d alternate:  “Need there is (tho’ yet
He tells it to you not in words, nor e’en
In thought) that he should fathom to its depth
Another mystery.  Tell him, if the light,
Wherewith your substance blooms, shall stay with you
Eternally, as now:  and, if it doth,
How, when ye shall regain your visible forms,
The sight may without harm endure the change,
That also tell.”  As those, who in a ring
Tread the light measure, in their fitful mirth
Raise loud the voice, and spring with gladder bound;
Thus, at the hearing of that pious suit,
The saintly circles in their tourneying
And wond’rous note attested new delight. 
     Whoso laments, that we must doff this garb
Of frail mortality, thenceforth to live
Immortally above, he hath not seen
The sweet refreshing, of that heav’nly shower. 
     Him, who lives ever, and for ever reigns
In mystic union of the Three in One,
Unbounded, bounding all, each spirit thrice
Sang, with such melody, as but to hear
For highest merit were an ample meed. 
And from the lesser orb the goodliest light,
With gentle voice and mild, such as perhaps
The angel’s once to Mary, thus replied: 
“Long as the joy of Paradise shall last,
Our love shall shine around that raiment, bright,
As fervent; fervent, as in vision blest;
And that as far in blessedness exceeding,
As it hath grave beyond its virtue great. 
Our shape, regarmented with glorious weeds
Of saintly flesh, must, being thus entire,
Show yet more gracious.  Therefore shall increase,
Whate’er of light, gratuitous, imparts
The Supreme Good; light, ministering aid,