"My spirit like a charmed bark doth swim
Upon the liquid waves of thy sweet singing
Far away into regions dim
Of rapture, as a boat with swift sails winging
Its way adown some many-winding river."
He who finds himself afloat upon the "many-winding river" throws aside
the laboring oar. It is enough to float on,--he cares not whither.
What greater pleasure is there than in the "Idylls of the King" provided
we do not study them, but dream them. We must enter into the poet's own
mood:--
"I seemed
To sail with Arthur under looming shores,
Point after point, till on to dawn, when dreams
Begin to feel the truth and stir of day."