Non Pi' Ch' 'L Foco Il Fabbro. It Is With Fire That Blacksmiths Iron Subdue Unto Fair Form, The Image Of Their Thought: Nor Without Fire Hath Any Artist Wrought Gold To Its Utmost Purity Of Hue. Nay, Nor The Unmatched Phoenix Lives Anew, Unless She Burn: If Then I Am Distraught By Fire, I May To Better Life Be Brought Like Those Whom Death Restores Nor Years Undo. The Fire Whereof I Speak, Is My Great Cheer; Such Power It Hath To Renovate And Raise Me Who Was Almost Numbered With The Dead; And Since By Nature Fire Doth Find Its Sphere Soaring Aloft, And I Am All Ablaze, Heavenward With It My Flight Must Needs Be Sped.