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Today in the midst of this world I see a radiant lamp with two clear flames each of us expects to take nourishment from-- think, just for us He endured that much pain: His love of the Father whose vital light cast a splendor over that scene as first the nails went in, is one; that absolute devotion to us, which consumed Him when limitless strength seemed spent, while He circled the earth with light, the other. This I see because when His lamp seemed spent, it wasn't. No, He'd given immortality with His life to those He had chosen to dwell in that eternal day of Paradise. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V CXLIX:309. See also B S1:160:165; no MSs; Valgrisi 161. A twentieth in a series meditating Christ. Key |
