My lady comes and ev'ry lip is silent; So perfect is her beauty's high estate That mortal spirit swoons and falls prostrate Before her glory. And she is so noble: If I uplift to her my inward eye, My soul is startled as if death were nigh.
Round you are flowers, is the tender green, The sun is not as bright as your dear face, All nature in her glorious summer-sheen Has not so fair and beautiful a place, It pales beside you. Earth has never seen A thing so full of loveliness and grace.
The perfection which the mere presence of the beloved was supposed to bestow on the lover, is here conceived more broadly and freely; not only the lover, but all men are touched and transfigured by her appearance. The sentiment of the lover aspired to become objective truth. This was an important stage on the road from the spiritual to the deifying love, which I have called metaphysical eroticism. Another rung of the ladder of evolution had been climbed--the mistress had become queen of the world and goddess, a being enthroned by the side of God. I will again quote Guinicelli:
Ever as she walks she has a sober grace, Making bold men abashed and good men glad, If she delight thee not, thy heart must err, No man dare look on her, his thoughts being base; Nay, let me say even more than I have said, No man could think base thoughts who looked on her.
The same poet in his canzone, _Al Cor Gentil_ says:
"She shines on us as God shines on His angels."
When madonna dies the angels receive her, rejoicing that she has joined them. The Provençal, Pons of Capduelh, anticipated Dante:
And now we know that the celestial choir Sings songs of jubilee at her release From this dull earth; I heard and am at rest; Who praise His hosts, praise the Eternal Sire. I know she is in Heaven with the blest, 'Midst flow'rs whose glory time can never dim Singing God's praise, and blest by seraphim. Nought but the truth from my glad lips shall fall, In Heaven she is, enthroned above all.
Folquet of Romans wrote a letter to his beloved, in which he said amongst other things:
Kneeling in church before God's face, --A sinner to beseech His grace,-- And for my sins to make amends,-- 'Twas you to whom I raised my hands; Your loveliness alone was there, My soul knew only of one pray'r. I fancied "Our Father" framed My trembling lips, when they exclaimed Exultant at His sacred shrine: Oh! Lady! All my soul is thine!