Chapter CXXII

He seems to recall some former occasion, when in wild enquiry he had dared to question the great secrets of life and death--now and hereafter.

This may not refer to any special time, but to the general uneasiness of his feelings before submission had been attained;[84] and he now says,

"If thou wert with me, and the grave
Divide us not, be with me now."

Let me again, "like an inconsiderate boy," "slip the thoughts of life and death," give free rein to a speculative imagination; for now, in a higher and better frame of mind, it will be that "every thought breaks out a rose"--a blossom of truth.