| Through me you pass into the city of woe
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| Through me you pass into eternal pain
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| All hope abandon, ye who enter here
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| Accents of anger, voices hoarse
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| Made up a tumult that forever whirls
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| From his bounds heaven drove them forth
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| Hell receives them
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| No hope may entertain
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| The tribe of those ill spirits both
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| To god displeasing and to his foes
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| Mercy and justice scorn them both
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| God and their parents they blasphemed
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| Drawn to the cursed strand
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| That every man must pass
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| Who fears not god
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| Charon, demoniac form
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| With eyes of burning coal
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| Collects them all
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| Now let us to the blind world there beneath
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| And entering the first circle that surrounds the abyss
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| No plaint was heard, except of sighs
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| Not caused by tortures, but from grief
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| For these defects and for no other evil
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| We are lost, desiring without hope
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| And to a part I come where no light shines |