Explore "Barlasch of the Guard" by Henry Seton Merriman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Nothing can cover his high fame but Heaven, / No pyramids set off his memories, / But the eternal substance of his greatness / To which I leave him.
"Why I will not let you go out into the streets? " said Barlasch one February morning, stamping the snow from his boots. "Why I will not let you go out into the streets?"