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FERISHTAH'S FANCIES.
Snow, feather-thick, is falling while I feast?
What if the cruel winter force his way
Here also?' Son, the wise reply were this:
When cold from over-mounts spikes through and through
Blood, bone and marrow of Ferishtah,―then,
Time to look out for shelter—time, at least,
To wring the hands and cry 'no shelter serves!'
Shelter, of some sort, no experienced chill
Warrants that I despair to find."
What if the cruel winter force his way
Here also?' Son, the wise reply were this:
When cold from over-mounts spikes through and through
Blood, bone and marrow of Ferishtah,―then,
Time to look out for shelter—time, at least,
To wring the hands and cry 'no shelter serves!'
Shelter, of some sort, no experienced chill
Warrants that I despair to find."
"No less,
Doctors have differed here; thou say'st thy say;
Another man's experience masters thine,
Flat controverted by the sourly-Sage,
Doctors have differed here; thou say'st thy say;
Another man's experience masters thine,
Flat controverted by the sourly-Sage,
