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Midway on our life's journey, I woke to find myself
In dark woods, the right road lost. To tell
About those woods is hard - so tangled and rough



And savage that thinking of it now, I feel
The old fear stirring: death is hardly more bitter.
And yet, to treat the good I found there as well




In that great wasteland: "Living man or shade,
Have pity and help me, whichever you may be!"
"No living man, though once I was", he replied




"My parents both were Mantuans from Lombardy,
And I was born sub Julio, the latter end.
I lived in good Augustus's Rome, in the day,"




I: "Then are you Virgil? Are you the font that pours
So overwhelming a river of human speech?"
I answered, shamefaced. "The glory and light are yours."

He: "Then you shall see those souls who are content
To dwell in fire because they hope some day
To join the blessed: toward whom, if your ascent

Continues, your guide will be one worthier than I-
When I must leave you, you will be with her.
For the Emperor who governs from on high



Wills I not enter His city, where none may appear
Who lived like me in rebellion to His law.
His empire is everything and everywhere."