He Listens Well Who Takes Notes.

From There We Came Outside And Saw The Stars

I Found Myself Within A Forest Dark, For The Straightfoward Pathway Had Been Lost. Ah Me! How Hard A Thing Is To Say, What Was This Forest Savage, Rough, And Stern, Which In The Very Thought Renews The Fear. So Bitter Is It, Death Is Little More.

O Faithful Conscience, Delicately Pure, How Doth A Little Failing Wound Thee Sore!

For She Doth Make My Veins And Pulses Tremble.

Through Me You Go Into A City Of Weeping; Through Me You Go Into Eternal Pain; Through Me You Go Amongst The Lost People