CHAPTER XVI 
POPP Y —CONSOLATION. 
From a Poppy I have taken 
Mortal’s balm and mortal’s bane, 
J uice that, creeping through the heart, 
Deadens every sense of smart; 
■ 'oomed to heal, or doomed to kill, 
Fraught with good, or fraught with ill. 
Mrs. Robinson 
