...there is no future life. It is the answer which the poet has put into the mouth of mere Nature : — " Thou makest thine appeal to me, I bring to life, I bring to death, The spirit doth but mean the breath ; I know no more." " This is all that there is in man, the material elements...

...light." Or is death indeed the end of all ? Shall man Man, her last work, who seemed so fair, buch splendid purpose in his eyes, Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, Who built him fanes of fruitless pmyer, Who loved, who suffer'd countless ills, Who battled for the True, the Just, Be blown about the...

...great poem, of which even the following splendid lines are hardly more than an average specimen : — And he, shall he, Man, her last work, who seem'd so...skies, Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, Who lov'd, who suffer' d countless ills, Who battled for the True, the Just, Be blown about the desert...

...and ghosts as fluttering about like birds or fairies, The poet of the nineteenth century says ; — " The spirit does but mean the breath, I know no more." And the same thought was expressed by Cicero two thousand years ago : '• Whether the soul is air or fire,...

...cliff and quarried stone She cries, " A thousand types are gone : I care for nothing, all shall go. " Thou makest thine appeal to me : \I bring to life, I bring to death : iThe spirit does but mean the breath : I know no more." And he, shall he, Man, her last work, who...

...cliff and quarried stone She cries ' a thousand types are gone : I care for nothing, all shall go. Thou makest thine appeal to me : I bring to life,...And he, shall he, Man, her last work, who seem'd so fan-, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, Who built him fanes...

...cliff and quarried stone, She cries, ' a thousand types are gone ; I care for nothing ; all shall go : Thou makest thine appeal to me ; I bring to life,...in his eyes, Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, And built him fanes of fruitless prayer, — Who trusted God was love indeed, And love creation's final...

...cliff and quarried stone, She ories, ' A thousand types are gone.' I oare for nothing ; all shall go : Thou makest thine appeal to me : I bring to life,...more.' And he, — shall he, Man, her last work, who seemed so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who rolled the psalm to wintry skies, And built...

...cliff and quarried stone, She eries, ' A thousand types are gone; I care for nothing; all shall go: Thou makest thine appeal to me ; I bring to life,...more.' And he, — shall he, Man, her last work, who seemed so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who rolled the psalm to wintry skies And built him...

...quarried stone, She cries/ A thousand types are gone; I care for nothing ; all shall go : Thoumakest thine appeal to me; I "bring to life, I bring to death...more/ And he, — shall he, Man, her last work, who seemed so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who rolled the psalm to wintry sides And built him...