Midway upon the journey of our life

Love, that all gentle hearts so quickly know.

Conscience, that boon companion who sets a man free under the strong breastplate of innocence, that bids him on and fear not.

No man may be so cursed by priest or pope but what the Eternal Love may still return while any thread of green lives on in hope.

In the middle of the journey of our life I came to myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost.

The experience of this sweet life.

A man's renown is like the hue of grass, Which comes and goes.