To run o’er better waters hoists its sail 531 The little vessel of my genius now, That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel; And of that second kingdom will I sing Wherein the human spirit doth purge itself, And to ascend to heaven becometh worthy. But let dead Poesy here rise again, O holy Muses, since that I am yours, And here Calliope somewhat ascend, 532 My song accompanying with that sound, Of which the miserable magpies felt 533 The blow so great, that they despaired of pardon. Sweet color of the oriental sapphire, That was upgathered in the cloudless aspect Of the pure air, as far as the first circle, 534 Unto mine eyes did recommence delight Soon as I issued forth from the dead air, Which had with sadness filled mine eyes and breast. The beauteous planet, that to love incites, 535