Severe the proof the Grecian youth was doomed
to undergo,
Before he might what lurks beneath the Eleusinia
know-
Art thou prepared and ripe, the shrine-the
inner shrine-to win,
Where Pallas guards from vulgar eyes the mystic
prize within?
Knowest thou what bars thy way? how dear the
bargain thou dost make,
When but to buy uncertain good, sure good thou
dost forsake?
Feelst thou sufficient strength to brave
the deadliest human fray,
When heart from reason-sense from
thought, shall rend themselves away?
Sufficient valor, war with doubt, the hydra-shape,
to wage;
And that worst foe within thyself with manly
soul engage?
With eyes that keep their heavenly health-the
innocence of youth
To guard from every falsehood, fair beneath
the mask of truth?
Fly, if thou canst not trust thy heart to guide
thee on the way-
Oh, fly the charmed margin ere th abyss
engulf its prey.
Round many a step that seeks the light, the
shades of midnight close;
But in the glimmering twilight, see-how
safely childhood goes!
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