Chapter 1646 of 1964 · 64 words · ~1 min read

XVII.

Sometimes, indeed, like soldiers off parade, They break their ranks and gladly leave the drill; But then the roll-call draws them back afraid, And they must be or seem what they _were_: still Doubtless it is a brilliant masquerade: But when of the first sight you have had your fill, It palls--at least it did so upon me, This paradise of Pleasure and _Ennui_.