Across some far-off ghostly main,
They haunt the chambers of the brain,
And kiss their fingers to the watchman, Sleep!
CARDINAL NEWMAN.
“To the last I never recognized the hold I had over young men.”—Apologia pro Vita Sua.
NO more the sun may know the strength it hath
To stir the bark in spring with quickening blood:
No more a storm controlleth its great wrath,