Whirl, if they have no response—they enforced
To fatten Earth when from her soul divorced.
THE SPIRIT OF SHAKESPEARE:
Continued.
How smiles he at a generation ranked
In gloomy noddings over life! They pass.
Not he to feed upon a breast unthanked,
Or eye a beauteous face in a cracked glass.
But he can spy that little twist of brain
Which moved some weighty leader of the blind,