a thought is meant which was born of my deep contemplation; wherefore it is to be known that by Love, in this Allegory, is always meant that deep contemplation which is the earnest application of the enamoured mind to that object wherewith it is enamoured.  Then when it says, “There shall shine High miracles before thee,” it announces that through her the adornments of the miracles will be seen; and it speaks truly, that the adornment of the miracles is to see the cause of the same, which she demonstrates; as in the beginning of the book on Metaphysics the Philosopher seems to feel, saying that, through the contemplation of these adornments, men began to be enamoured with this Lady.  And concerning this word, i.e., miracle, in the following treatise I shall speak more fully.  What then follows of this Song is sufficiently explained by the other exposition.

And thus at the end of this Second Treatise, I say and affirm that the Lady with whom I became enamoured after the first Love was the most beautiful and most excellent daughter of the Ruler of the Universe, to which daughter Pythagoras gave the name of Philosophy.  And here ends the Second Treatise, which is brought in for the first dish at my Banquet.

* * * * *

The Third Treatise.

    Love, reasoning of my Lady in my mind
      With constant pleasure, oft of her will say
      Things over which the intellect may stray;
    His words make music of so sweet a kind
      That the Soul hears and feels, and cries, Ah, me,
      That I want power to tell what thus I see!

    If I would tell of her what thus I hear,
      First, all that Reason cannot make its own
      I needs must leave; and of what may be known
    Leave part, for want of words to make it clear. 
      If my Song fail, blame wit and words, whose force
      Fails to tell all I hear in Love’s discourse.

    The Sun sees not in travel round the earth,
      Till it reach her abode, so fair a thing
      As she of whom Love causes me to sing. 
    All minds of Heaven wonder at her worth;
      Mortals, enamoured, find her in their thought
      When Love his peace into their minds has brought.

    Her Maker saw that she was good, and poured,
      Beyond our Nature, fulness of His Power
      On her pure soul, whence shone this holy dower
    Through all her frame, with beauty so adored
      That from the eyes she touches heralds fly
      Heartward with longings, heavenward with a sigh.

    On her fair frame Virtue Divine descends
      As on the angel that beholds His face. 
      Fair one who doubt, go with her, mark the grace
    In all her acts.  Downward from Heaven bends
      An angel when the speaks, who can attest
      A power in her by none of us possessed.