CITO PEDE PRETERIT ÆTAS.
45
FYTTE VIII.
FINIS EXOPTATUS.
[A METAPHYSICAL SONG.]
There's something in this world amiss
Shall be unriddled by-and-bye.—Tennyson.
Boot and saddle, see the slanting
Rays begin to fall,
Flinging lights and colours flaunting
Through the shadows tall,
Onward onward! must we travel ?
When will come the goal?
Riddle I may not unravel,
Cease to vex my soul.
Rays begin to fall,
Flinging lights and colours flaunting
Through the shadows tall,
Onward onward! must we travel ?
When will come the goal?
Riddle I may not unravel,
Cease to vex my soul.
Harshly break those peals of laughter
From the jays aloft,
From the jays aloft,
