'A dreamer—who held every man for a brother;
A coward—who, emit on one cheek, gave the other:
A fool—whose blind truth aye believed all knaves' lying;
Too simple to live, so most fitted for dying.
Ha! such are best swept out of Vanity Fair.'
Silence! though the flame-drifts wave and flutter;
Silence! though the crowd their curses mutter;
Silence! through this fiery purgatory
God is leading up a soul to glory.
See, the white lips with no moans are trembling,