My Soul Tasted That Heavenly Food, Which

The Truth Thy Speech Doth Show, Within My Heart Reproves The Swelling Pride.

The Three Divine Are In This Hierarchy, First The Dominions, And The Virtues Next; And The Third Order Is That Of The Powers. The In The Dances Twain Penultimate The Principalities And Archangels Wheel; The Last Is Wholly Of Angelic Sports. These Orders Upward All Of Them Are Gazing, And Downward So Prevail, That Unto God They All Attracted Are And All Attract.

O Foolish Anxiety Of Wretched Man, How Inconclusive Are The Arguments Which Make Thee Beat Thy Wings Below!

Not One Drop Of Blood Is Left Inside My Veins That Does Not Throb: I Recognize Signs Of The Ancient Flame.

You Can Stay And Die Or You Can Walk Your Ugly Ass Back Through That Gate. It's Your Call, Pal.