So he passed over, and the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.

So I awoke, and behold it was a dream.

Some said, “John, print it”; others said, “Not so.” Some said, “It might do good”; others said, “No.”

The name of the slough was Despond.

Then I saw that there was a way to Hell, even from the gates of heaven.

Who would true valor see, Let him come hither; One here will constant be, Come wind, come weather. There’s no discouragement Shall make him once relent His first avow’d intent

Who would true valour see,