That narrow, that elongate, so small a lane Ioften see
A path I walk towards many many times in mydream
The ground is stern with sharp pebbles, aspiercing as can be
Which, under the westering sun, give off apallid gleam
On one side of the path is a jail--the wallstands upright
On the other a church, with a graveyard andbelltower
I walk in the narrow lane, in lonely and sorryplight
It seems the long passage you cannot finish,however
Suddenly, the toll is blended with theprisoners' cries
Striking what the dusk imposes on the heart, adespair
I stop, listen carefully, with suspension andsurprise
The angels and Satan swap swiftly, fighting inthe air
Oh, the small lane where I often went as achild to play
Is such a nightmare that I could not shake offanyway
