Illusive from the abyss, seems fain to rise. This hour alone Hope's broken pledges mar, And Joy now gleams before, now in our rear, Like mirage mocking in some waste afar, Dissolving into air as we draw near. Beyond our steps the path is sunny-clear, The shadow lying only where we are. [61] THE ASCENT OF MAN. PART II. [62] [62] CONTENTS "Love is for ever poor, and so far from being delicate and beautiful, as mankind imagined, he is squalid and withered ... homeless and unsandalled; he sleeps without covering before the doors, and in the unsheltered streets."—Plato. Plato. [63] [63] Through the winding mazes of windy streets Blindly I hurried I knew not whither, Through the dim-lit ways of the brain thus fleets A fluttering dream driven hither and thither.—
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