Sad soul—dear heart, no more repine—
The tale is beautiful and plain:
Surely as winter taketh all,
The spring shall bring again.
T. B. Read.
XXVIII.
Medley.
FRAGMENT FROM THE GREEK OF ARISTOTLE.
If there were beings who lived in the depths of the earth, in dwellings adorned with statues and paintings, and every thing which is possessed in rich abundance by those whom we esteem fortunate; and if these beings could receive tidings of the power and might of the gods, and could then emerge from their hidden dwellings through the open fissures of the earth, to the places which we inhabit; if they could suddenly behold the earth, and the sea, and the vault of heaven; could recognize the expanse of the cloudy firmament, and the might of the winds of heaven, and admire the sun in its majesty, beauty, and radiant effulgence; and, lastly, when night vailed the earth in darkness, they could behold the starry heavens, the changing moon, and the stars rising and setting in the unvarying course ordained from eternity, they would surely exclaim, “There are gods, and such great things must be the work of their hands.”
Translation from Humboldt’s “Cosmos.”