BOOK II.
sacred Heart of Jesus, kindle mine With flames of love; touch these cold lips with fire, As once thou touch'd'st Isaias', twofold blest, That I may worthy sing of her, whose womb The matrix was, in which thy heart was made. In vain I strive to soar such heav'nly heights, The mystery of incarnate Wisdom To portray, unless, benignant, thou wilt Deign to purify, enlighten, quick' n, bless, And elevate to compass of a strain, That else transcends the utmost scope of man. Borne on the pinions of the heav'nly Dove, Beyond Aonian hills, Parnassus' height, Or 'bove where Hebron led th' inspired muse To sing the glories of his mystic Spouse, I cleave th' ethereal sky, o'erpass the stars, Excel their distances and speed, transcend The dominations, princedoms, dignities And powers; surpass the full-eyed cherubim, And through the ranks of seraphs take my way; Nor, if created aught there be above, Cease I my daring flight, until I fix
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