SEA SPRAY &> SMOKE DRIFT 



Like corpses embalm'd and unburied 



They lie, and in spite of our will, 

 Our souls on the wings of thought carried, 



Revisit their sepulchres still ; 

 Down the channels of mystery gliding 



They conjure strange tales, rarely read, 

 Of the priests of dead Pharaohs presiding 



At mystical feasts of the dead. 



Weird pictures arise, quaint devices. 



Rude emblems, baked funeral meats. 

 Strong incense, rare wines, and rich spices, 



The ashes, the shrouds, and the sheets ; 

 Does our thraldom fall short of completeness 



For the magic of a charnel-house charm, 

 And the flavour of a poisonous sweetness, 



And the odour of a poisonous balm ? 



And the links of the past — but, no matter. 

 For I'm getting beyond you, I guess. 



And you'll call me "as mad as a hatter" 

 If my thoughts I too freely express ; 



I subjoin a quotation, pray learn it, 



And with the aid of your lexicon tell us 



The meaning thereof, *^ jRes discernit 



Sapiens, quas confimdit asellus'' 



148 



