her, which I could not comprehend, and I was alarmed, so that I seemed
almost like one dazed, even as he who, looking with the eye along a
direct line, sees first the nearest things clearly; then, proceeding,
it sees them less clearly; then, further on, doubtfully; then,
proceeding an immense way, the sight is divided from the object, and
sees nothing. And this is one unspeakable thing of that which I have
taken for a theme; and consequently I relate the other when I say:

His words make music of so sweet a kind
That the Soul hears and feels, and cries, Ah, me,
That I want power to tell what thus I see!

And because I know not how to tell it, I say that my soul laments,
saying, "Ah, me, that I want power." And this is the other unspeakable
thing, that the tongue is not a complete and perfect follower of all
that the intellect sees. And I say, "That the Soul hears and feels;"
hearing, as to the words, and feeling, as to the sweetness of the
sound.




CHAPTER IV.


Now that the two ineffable parts of this matter have been discussed,
we must proceed to discuss words that describe my insufficiency.

I say, then, that my insufficiency arises from a double cause, even as
in a twofold manner the exalted nature of my Lady surpasses all, in