Page:The Aeneid of Virgil JOHN CONINGTON 1917 V2.pdf/383

 "Soul of mine, pretty one, flitting one, Guest and partner of my clay,  Whither wilt thou hie away,— Pallid one, rigid one, naked one—  Never to play again, never to play?"

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"Yes, thou goest, Spirit—yes, In thy paleness, nakedness— Mirth is banished,  Jest hath vanished Into gloom and dreariness."

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"Wee wan'erin' winsome elf, my saul, Thou's made this clay long hoose an' hall, But whar, oh whar art now to dwall, Thy bield now bare? Gaun' flickterin' feckless, shiverin' caul,  Nae cantrips mair."