<h3><SPAN name="The_Lid" id="The_Lid"></SPAN>The Lid</h3>
<p class="margin-b">
Where'er he may rove, upon sea or on land,<br/>
'Neath a fiery sky or a pallid sun,<br/>
Be he Christian or one of Cythera's band,<br/>
Opulent Croesus or beggar—'tis one,<br/>
<br/>
Whether citizen, peasant or vagabond he,<br/>
Be his little brain active or dull. Everywhere,<br/>
Man feels the terror of mystery,<br/>
And looks upon high with a glance full of fear.<br/>
<br/>
The Heaven above, that oppressive wall;<br/>
A ceiling lit up in some lewd music hall,<br/>
Where the actors step forth on a blood-red soil;<br/>
<br/>
The eremite's hope, and the dread of the sot,<br/>
The Sky; that black lid of a mighty pot,<br/>
Where, vast and minute, human Races boil.<br/></p>
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