Bailey’s Festus, that extraordinary poem the perusal of which makes the reader feel as if he had “eaten of the insane root that takes the reason prisoner,” abounds with examples:—
Night brings out stars as sorrow shows us truths:
Though many, yet they help not; bright, they light not.
They are too late to serve us; and sad things
Are aye too true. We never see the stars
Till we can see naught but them. So with truth.
And yet if one would look down a deep well,
Even at noon, we might see those same stars——
Life’s more than breath, and the quick round of blood—
We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths—