There Is In Hell A Place Stone-built

Like The Lark That Soars In The Air, First Singing, Then Silent, Content With The Last Sweetness That Satiates It, Such Seemed To Me That Image, The Imprint Of The Eternal Pleasure.

He Who Sees A Need And Waits To Be Asked For Help Is As Unkind As If He Had Refused It.

The Heavens Call To You, And Circle About You, Displaying To You Their Eternal Splendors, And Your Eye Gazes Only To Earth.

You Shall Find Out How Salt Is The Taste Of Another Man's Bread, And How Hard Is The Way Up And Down Another Man's Stairs.

Go Right On And Listen As Thou Goest.