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Next to me is an angelic presence sent by God. A guide. Let me turn my mind to Him. When my soul yields to sin, put back the bit, comfort my worn feet on the hard path. That from our eternal bond this light may not die, that when my Lord comes He may find me waiting at the door, a knowing wary woman, with my lamp steadily burning. I await him, tense, breathless, expectant. I arm myself joyfully with sacred love, absolute faith to meet this encounter, I feel you care for me and my soul trusts to you. So give me a sign, let dawn begin in me, and herald the coming of my bright glad Sun. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V CXVI:276. See B S1:7:88; R XXXII:461-2. Ref: Matt 25:1-13. Key |
