 When you were Eve, its acrid juice was sweet,
Untasted, in its heavenly, orchard
air.Canto XI includes the verse,

Could make us squeak, like dolls, the wished-for words.And in canto XII the poem concludes with the verse,

Like a rose rabbi, later, I pursued,
And still pursue, the origin and course
Of love, but until now I never knew
That fluttering things have so distinct a shade.