#poetry When my mind, on the ocean of poesy hurled, Floats on in repose round this wonderful world, Oft the sacred fire from heaven— Mysterious sun, that gives light to the soul— Strikes mine with its ray, and above the pole Its upward course is driven, Exulting in the heat that issues from it. Whence dost thou come? whence fell those sombre clouds? I felt the passage of the hurricane. If my prayers fail, what avails their merit? What we may do besides praying God I know not. Languish with me! thou too, Mont' Alto, be sad! The weeping Alps are thawing alike before us! O day of wrath, o day of terror, lead my heart and tongue to trembling, melting by thy anger! When my outpourings of petition I proffer the God in his filial love and gentleness an eternal Son obtains for us, [in the role of the innocent lamb] who paying in exchange for all our guilt to his Father acquits oneself for himself! (my life's blood!) and in this almighty sign {of peace and conciliation; i.e., the cross?} given Let special prayers be repeated and sermons preached. ...(inaudible).. and all the creatures of the earth too, the song and the sermon are ready made (profUSadamente) ,they lie before us Do it for the lovely, divine one, so that he may listen, salat (muslin medieval garment{ i.e., "muslin veil"]) And thus, no doubt, he himself will protect the honorable one, and if