Life and death .. . cape tempests and squalls, they must finish their voyagein the Dead Sea. When Death officiates as butler, as we here see him,and draws the cork, it is from the waters of that horridlake he pours out the nauseous beverage that all arecompelled to drain from his hand. At his bidding thewine-bibber must visit other shades than those whitherhe has often so willingly repaired to partake of the in-spiring glass, heedless of .the ominous name. The shades !what a memento niori in that awfully sounding word,which is, nevertheless, daily uttered by so many with somuch gaycty! Hardly
Life and death .. . cape tempests and squalls, they must finish their voyagein the Dead Sea. When Death officiates as butler, as we here see him,and draws the cork, it is from the waters of that horridlake he pours out the nauseous beverage that all arecompelled to drain from his hand. At his bidding thewine-bibber must visit other shades than those whitherhe has often so willingly repaired to partake of the in-spiring glass, heedless of .the ominous name. The shades !what a memento niori in that awfully sounding word,which is, nevertheless, daily uttered by so many with somuch gaycty! Hardly do they seem to reflect that thegristly spectre will ere long summon them from the wine-vault to that narrow vault where, instead of finding abanquet for their thirsty palates, they must, themselves,afford a banquet to the worm; to those shades wherethey themselves will be as shadows, where their glasswill be broken, their bottle emptied, no more to be re-plenished, and their revelry silenced for ever. 358 DELIRIUM Of all the ills foredoomed by Fate,That haunt and vex this mortal state,None holds such firm and dismal sway,Augmenting night, and darkening day,—>As the foul pest—accursd, unholy,Sad-eyed, soul-sinking delirium! The fears that come without a call,The shade that, like a thrice-heaped pall,Drops oer the shuddering unstrung sense,In wide and drear omnipotence!The aimless blank, the sightless stare,The nerve, with all its fibres bare;The shapes grotesque that start to view,And, as their victim shrinks, pursue;The sickening languor, last not least,That spreads oer all the damp chill breast,Unnerves the will, and racks the head,And brings the tears into their bed;These are amongst the horrors, thou,Dread Demon, heapest on my brow. DELIRIUM. 359 Reader ! these are no fancied woes,For could I to thy view discloseThe visions that torment my sight;Each grinning elf, each grizzly sprite,—However strong thy nerves may be,Thou wouldst not mock, but pity me. *
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, booksubjecthygiene, booksubjectm
