"Brother, the quality of love stilleth our will, and maketh us long only for what we have, and giveth us no other thirst,
"Did we desire to be more aloft, our longings were discordant from his will who here assorteth us,
"And for that, thou wilt see, there is no room within these circles, if of necessity we have our being here in love, and if thou think again what is love's nature.
"Nay, 'tis the essence of this blessed being to hold ourselves within the divine will, whereby our own wills are themselves made one.
"So that our being thus, from threshold unto threshold, throughout the realm, is a joy to all the realm as to the King, who draweth our wills to what he willeth;
"And his will is our peace; it is that sea to which all moves that it createth and that nature maketh."
Dante, Purgatorio, iii. 70-87 (trans. by Rev. Philip H. Wicksteed, in the "Temple Classics" edition).