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