This page needs to be proofread.
Write it in wine upon a rose-leaved scroll:
All wisdom I found hidden in the bowl,
All answers to all questions saving one,—
Which is the body, and which is the soul?
Poised for an instant in The Master's hand,
Body and soul like to a compass stand,
The body turning round the central soul,
He makes a little circle in the sand.
This sounding world is but a dream that cries
In fancy's ears and lives in fancy's eyes,
Death lays his finger on the darkening soul,
And all the glowing shadow fades and flies.
Shall death, that shuts the ear and locks the brain,
Teach us what eager life hath sought in vain?
Yet have I heard, so wild is human guess!
This dullard death shall make life's meaning plain.
66
