nor hearing the thunder as it booms over the waves--murmur ye:
THE DEAD!

* * * * *

When women in rich attire move around you, and you feel that the faint
fluttering of the silken robe is far more spiritual than the life-breath
of their souls--murmur ye: THE DEAD!

* * * * *

Float on, then, like the sacred whispers from the unhewn forests! The
world will not know you, because you are of the race sprung from
coffins; born and cradled in coffins; but as you rise from the grave,
strew upon the ground beneath your feet the mouldering rags of your
shrouds--and _he_, seated on the verge of the abyss, on the steep and
slippery declivity; _he_, robed in the royal purple of power, will not
survive your Resurrection--but must himself descend into the coffin!

I saw imaged before me, as in a wondrous vision, the varied scenes and
changes as it were of a long life--rising, progressing, and vanishing,
as if bound in a single day, beginning with the morning and fleeting
away with the evening shadows.

It seemed to me in my vision that the morning was strangely transparent.
No clouds dulled the ether above. Far over the wide green space rose the
sun, and in front of the House on the Hill stood a horse already
saddled, impatiently wounding the velvety grass with his iron hoofs, and
snuffing with wide nostrils the fresh breeze from the valley. Near him
stood his young master. The light in his blue eye was bright as the
young beam of the day. He had one foot in the stirrup, and the other on
the soft home-turf; with one hand caressing the long waving mane of the
steed, and the other clasped in the grasp of the man from whom he was
taking leave--they knew not for how long, but yet felt it was not
forever. Words were pouring from the heart of the one into the heart of
the other. The elder, he who stood on the ground and was to move on on
foot, kept his gaze steadily fixed on the rocks and forests lying beyond
the smooth green turf. The younger, with raised eyes, gazed into the
sky, as if absorbing its light in the blue lustrous pupils; and when he
spoke, his voice was like the fresh breath of spring. The elder spoke
more slowly, almost sternly, as though advising, warning, beseeching--as
if he loved deeply, yet doubted, feared; but the younger had no fear, no
doubts--he pledged himself and vowed--threw himself first into the arms
of his friend, then leaped into his sadd