Midway, this way of life we’re bound upon
I woke to find myself in a dark wood, where the right road, was wholly lost and gone.
Aye me, how hard to speak of it, that rude and rough - and stubborn forest, the mere breath of
memory stirs the old fear in the blood.
But when at last, I stood beneath a steep hillside, which closed that valley’s wandering maze, whose
dread had pierced me to the heart root deep.
Then I looked up, and saw the morning rays mantle its shoulder from that planet bright, which
guides men’s feet aright, on all their ways.
All their ways
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