He said to me: “That was the bit[98] full hard
Which should each man within his limit stay.
You take the bait so fondly that the small
Hook of th' old enemy makes you his prey,
And bridle boots you naught, nor warning call.
Heaven calleth to you, and the eternal round
Shows you of beauties that about you roll,
And still your eye is grovelling on the ground;
Wherefore He smites you who discerns the whole.”