Have heard her sigh and soften out the name.[512:2]

Gebir. Book ii.

I strove with none, for none was worth my strife;

Nature I loved; and next to Nature, Art.

I warm'd both hands against the fire of life;

It sinks, and I am ready to depart.

Dying Speech of an old Philosopher.

Footnotes

[511:1]

Nor sequent centuries could hit