Conduct a mimic spectacle of war;
Spears waiting to be snatched, and the broad shield
To be slung, chargers harnessed for the field;—
Shadows to terrestrial men, who call
Earthly things real, when shadows most of all;—
Shadows these of the busy lives they led
On earth, which pursue them now they are dead;
Nought palpable, unless that through a grove
Eridanus rolls to the world above.
Here ignorantly happy dwell in joy