* Plato and Aristotle.

As palace mirror'd in the stream,
as vapour mingled with the skies,
So weaves the brain of mortal man
the tangled web of Truth and Lies.

What see we here? Forms, nothing more!
Forms fill the brightest, strongest eye,
We know not substance; 'mid the shades
shadows ourselves we live and die.

"Faith mountains move" I hear: I see
the practice of the world unheed
The foolish vaunt, the blatant boast
that serves our vanity to feed.

"Faith stands unmoved"; and why? Because
man's silly fancies still remain,
And will remain till wiser man
the day-dreams of his youth disdain.

"'Tis blessed to believe"; you say:
The saying may be true enow
And it can add to Life a light:--
only remains to show us how.

E'en if I could I nould believe
your tales and fables stale and trite,