The World’s Tragedy

I6 THE WORLD’S TRAGEDY. Let us lie on the moss by the spring, let us share In their silence serene, the languor rare ! For oh ! my lover, I never did see So goodly a company. HERACLITUS Wait but a moment — stand apart, Revolving the light in thine innermost heart ! Content not the soul with the skin of the grape ! — But the truer sense than the eye and the ear Make to appear ! CHRYSIPPUS Verily, master, I obey. I travel the exalted way. I pierce the sense ; I gain the goal, Distill the essence of the soul — HERACLEITUS I shroud thee in the web of wool. I lift the burden of the bull. Lion and eagle ! dart ye forth Into the cold clime of the North,