And veils in dust his brow.
Beneath, the yawning earth--above, the lurid skies!
Mortal, behold the toil and boast of years
In one brief moment to oblivion hurled.
So shall it be, when this vain guilty world
Of woe, and sad necessity and tears,
Sinks at the awful mandate of its Lord,
As erst it rose to being at his word."
CHAPTER XV
Lunatic Asylum
"Alas! poor maniac;