Page:Through a Glass Lightly (1897, Greg).djvu/67

 good monk’s soul ! And thou, “animula, blandula, vagula,” sweet spirit of the present, born to pass here and now, in this narrow space of sun between the grisly past and the yet grislier future, rise up and still up from the source of things, even to this pleasant patch of surface! Actors love thee, and women; but for all that, rise, rise, rise ever; for once the beaded bubbles of ephemeral evanescence have winked their last, there is no deep so plummetless as that encircled by yon vacuous and reproachful glass.