An image draws, and in yourselves displays it So that it makes the soul turn unto it. And if, when turned, towards it she incline, Love is that inclination; it is nature, Which is by pleasure bound in you anew. 864 Then even as the fire doth upward move By its own form, which to ascend is born, Where longest in its matter it endures, 865 So comes the captive soul into desire, Which is a motion spiritual, and ne’er rests Until she doth enjoy the thing beloved. Now may apparent be to thee how hidden The truth is from those people, who aver All love is in itself a laudable thing; Because its matter may perchance appear Aye to be good; but yet not each impression Is good, albeit good may be the wax.” “Thy words, and my sequacious intellect,” I answered him, “have love revealed to me; But that has made me more impregned with doubt; For if love from without be offered us, And with another foot the soul go not,