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The Other—like a stately Sycamore,
That spreads, in gentler pomp, its honied shade.
A general greeting was exchanged; and soon
The Pastor learned that his approach had given
A welcome interruption to discourse
Grave, and in truth full often sad.—"Is Man
A Child of hope? Do generations press
On generations, without progress made?
Halts the Individual, ere his hairs be grey,
Perforce? Are we a Creature in whom good
Preponderates, or evil? Doth the Will
Acknowledge Reason's law? A living Power
Is Virtue, or no better than a name?
Fleeting as health or beauty, and unsound!
So that the only substance which remains,
(For thus the tenor of complaint hath run)
Among so many shadows, are the pains
And penalties of miserable life,
Doomed to decay, and then expire in dust!
—Our cogitations this way have been drawn,
These are the points," the Wanderer said, "on which
