Page:The children of the night.djvu/27

 But then, what though the mystic Three Around me ply their merry trade?— And Charon soon may carry me Across the gloomy Stygian glade?— Be up, my soul! nor be afraid Of what some unborn year may show; But mind your human debts are paid, As one by one the phantoms go.

Life is the game that must be played: This truth at least, good friend, we know; So live and laugh, nor be dismayed As one by one the phantoms go.