I HAD an idea that a Man might pass a very pleasant life in this manner—Let him on a certain day read a certain page of full Poesy or distilled Prose, and let him wander with it, and muse upon it, and reflect from it, and bring home to it, and prophesy upon it, and dream upon it: until it becomes stale-But when will it do so? Never-When Man has arrived at a certain ripeness in intellect any one grand and spiritual passage serves him as a starting-post towards all "the twoand-thirty Palaces." How happy is such a voyage of conception, what delicious diligent indolence! KEATS. V 3585 JUN -51920 435638 |