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!