The imagination may be compared to Adam's dream-he awoke and found it truth.
She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.
O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet the Evening listens.
Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.
I have good reason to be content, for thank God I can read and perhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths.
The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children.