In His Will, Our Peace.

And As He, Who With Laboring Breath Has Escaped From The Deep To The Shore, Turns To The Perilous Waters And Gazes.

This Mountain Is So Formed That It Is Always Wearisome When One Begins The Ascent, But Becomes Easier The Higher One Climbs.

Open Your Mind To What I Shall Disclose, And Hold It Fast Within You; He Who Hears, But Does Not Hold What He Has Heard, Learns Nothing. Beatrice - Canto V 40-42

Here Let Dead Poetry Rise Once More To Life.

Before Me Things Created Were None, Save Things Eternal, And Eternal I Endure. All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here.