VIII.--CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

And as I walk on my way, I behold them consorting and coupling;

Faithful it seemeth, and fond, very fond, very probably faithful;

And I proceed on my way with a pleasure sincere and unmingled.

Life is beautiful, Eustace, entrancing, enchanting to look at;

As are the streets of a city we pace while the carriage is changing,

As is a chamber filled-in with harmonious, exquisite pictures,

Even so beautiful Earth; and could we eliminate only

This vile hungering impulse, this demon within us of craving,

Life were beatitude, living a perfect divine satisfaction.

The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 06, April, 1858 A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics · 第 20 / 90 题