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THE VEIL.

There is a veil no mortal hand can draw,
Which hides what eye of mortal never saw;
Through that (each moment by the dying riven)
Could but a glance be to the living given,
How into nothing, less than nothing, all
Life's vanities, life's verities, would fall,
And that alone of priceless worth be deem'd
Which is most lightly by the world esteem'd!
Enough is known; there is a heaven, a hell;
Who 'scapes the last, and wins the first, doth well:
Whither away, my soul!—in which wouldst thou
Emerge from life, were death to smite me now?
1834.