With hesitating step, he now draws near-- His impious hand would fain remove the veil-- Sudden a burning chill assails his bones And then an unseen arm repulses him. "Unhappy one, what wouldst thou do?" Thus cries A faithful voice within his trembling breast. "Wouldst thou profanely violate the All-Holy?" "'Tis true the oracle declared, 'Let none Venture to raise the veil till raised by me.' But did the oracle itself not add, That he who did so would behold the truth? Whate'er is hid behind, I'll raise the veil." And then he shouted: "Yes! I will behold it!" "Behold it!" Repeats in mocking tone the distant echo. He speaks, and, with the word, lifts up the veil. Would you inquire what form there met his eye? I know not,--but, when day appeared, the priests Found him extended senseless, pale as death, Before the pedestal of Isis' statue. What had been seen and heard by him when there He never would disclose, but from that hour His happiness in life had fled forever, And his deep sorrow soon conducted him To an untimely grave. "Woe to that man," He warning said to every questioner, "Woe to that man who wins the truth by guilt, For truth so gained will ne'er reward its owner." THE DIVISION OF THE EARTH. "Take the world!" Zeus exclaimed from his throne in the skies To the children of man--"take the world I now give; It shall ever remain as your heirloom and prize, So divide it as brothers, and happily live." Then all who had hands sought their share to obtain, The young and the aged made haste to appear; The husbandman seized on the fruits of the plain, The youth through the forest pursued the fleet deer. The merchant took all that his warehouse could hold, The abbot selected the last year's best wine, The king barred the bridges,--the highways controlled, And said, "Now remember, the tithes shall be mine!" But when the division long-settled had been, The poet drew nigh from a far distant land; But alas! not a remnant was now to be seen, Each thing on the earth owned a master's command. "Alas! shall then I, of thy sons the most true,-- Shall I, 'mongst them all, be forgotten alone?" Thus loudly he cried in his anguish, and threw Himself in despair before Jupiter's throne. "If thou in the region of dreams didst delay, Complain not of me," the Immortal replied; "When the world was apportioned, where then wert thou, pray?" "I was," said the poet, "I was--by thy side!" "Mine eye was then fixed on thy features so bright, Mine ear was entranced by thy harmony's power; Oh, pardon the spirit that, awed by thy light, All things of the earth could forget in that hour!"