1916 And none makes Him parhelion of itself. Thou fain wouldst hear how long ago God placed me Within the lofty garden, where this Lady Unto so long a stairway thee disposed. And how long to mine eyes it was a pleasure, And of the great disdain the proper cause, And the language that I used and that I made. Now, son of mine, the tasting of the tree Not in itself was cause of so great exile, But solely the o’erstepping of the bounds. There, whence thy Lady moved Virgilius, 1917 Four thousand and three hundred and two circuits Made by the sun, this Council I desired; And him I saw return to all the lights Of his highway nine hundred times and thirty, Whilst I upon the earth was tarrying. The language that I spake was quite extinct 1918 Before that in the work interminable The people under Nimrod were employed; For nevermore result of reasoning (Because of human pleasure that doth change,