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BALAUSTION'S ADVENTURE.
We grew to see in that severe regard,—Hear in that hard dry pressure to the point,Word slow pursuing word in monotone,—What Death meant when he called her consecrateHenceforth to Hades. I believe, the sword—Its office was to cut the soul at onceFrom life,—from something in this world which hidesTruth, and hides falsehood, and so lets us liveSomehow. Suppose a rider furls a cloakAbout a horse's head; unfrightened, so,Between the menace of a flame, betweenSolicitation of the pasturage,Untempted equally, he goes his gaitTo journey's end: then pluck the pharos off!Show what delusions steadied him i' the straightO' the path, made grass seem fire and fire seem grass,All through a little bandage o'er the eyes!For certainly with eyes unbandaged now
