CIII
O Rabbi, curse us not if we have been
Nursed in the shadow of the Gate of Sin
Built by thy hand—yea, ev'n thine angels blink
When we are coming out and going in.
CIV
And like the dead of Ind I do not fear
To go to thee in flames; the most austere
Angel of fire a softer tooth and tongue
Hath he than dreadful Munker and Nakir.
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