Then in the pattern of a pure white rose

          Was shown to me the saintly soldiery

          Whom Christ has made his bride with his own blood.

          But the other host — who, flying, see and sing

5        The glory of him who fills them with his love

          And the goodness that made them magnificent—

          Just like a swarm of bees, alight in flowers

          At one instant and in the next returning

          To where their toil attains its fragrant taste—

10      Flew downward into that vast flower, fringed

          With myriad petals, and rising up from it

          Sped back to where their love forever rests.

          Their faces all glowed with a living flame;

          Their wings were gold, and their whole form so white

15      That no snow ever rivaled such pure whiteness.

          When they dove to the flower, row on row,

          They spread some portion of the love and peace

          Which they won when they waved their wings on high.

          Nor did the flight of such a multitude

20      Coming between the upper light and flower

          Block out the vision and the sea of splendor.

          For the divine light through the universe

          So penetrates in measure to its worth

          That there is nothing to stand in the way.

25      This jubilant and ever-restful kingdom,

          Thronging with people of old and modern times,

          Kept gaze and love all focused on one goal.

          O threefold Light which, in a single star

          Sparkling upon their sight, so pleases them,

30      Look down here on our storms that rage on earth!

 — from Paradiso, Canto XXXI