Do you feel the holy pain scratching at your heart? With a hard, rasping finger -- He beckons you. It needles -- till we beg for more -- it sounds the lovers' wail, who crucify their hearts for a taste of Resurrection. So pass round the cup! full and bittersweet, regaling us with tales till we lose our trepidation. For each is a wanderer on this trail of night; and painful to the eye are its first rays of Light.