Page:The cream of the jest; a comedy of evasions (IA creamofjestcomed00caberich).pdf/267

 Book Sixth

"Alas! the sprite that haunts us Deceives our rash desire; It whispers of the glorious gods, And leaves us in the mire: We cannot learn the cipher Inscribed upon our cell; Stars taunt us with a mystery Which we lack lore to spell."