He came down from heaven in human form

And seeing how just and kind was our inferno

Returned alive to fix his gaze on God

And give us all the true and perfect light

A shining star whose bright rays even fell

On the poor Tuscan nest where I was born

The wicked world was never his due reward

Which only You his Creator could supply

Of Dante I speak who was so poorly prized

For his great work by this ungrateful brood

Who shun all merit and despise the good

If only I were he! For his ordeal

His bitter exile and his noble worth

I’d ask no greater happiness on earth!