Within the soul a faculty abides,
That with interpositions, which would hide
And darken, so can deal that they become
Contingencies of pomp; and serve to exalt
Her native brightness. As the ample moon,
In the deep stillness of a summer even
Rising behind a thick and lofty grove,
Burns, like an unconsuming fire of light,
In the green trees; and, kindling on all sides
Their leafy umbrage, turns the dusky veil
Into a substance glorious as her own.
_The Excursion, Bk. IV_. W. WORDSWORTH.
O for a muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention!
_King Henry V., Chorus_. SHAKESPEARE.
Hark, his hands the lyre explore!
Bright eyed Fancy, hovering o'er,
Scatters from her pictured urn
Thoughts that breathe and words that burn.
_Progress of Poesy_. T. GRAY.
One of those passing rainbow dreams
Half light, half shade, which Fancy's beams
Paint on the fleeting mists that roll,
In trance or slumber, round the soul.
_Lalla Rookh_. T. MOORE.
Of its own beauty is the mind diseased,
And fevers into false creation:--where,
Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized?
In him alone. Can Nature show so fair?
Where are the charms and virtues which we dare
Conceive in boyhood and pursue as men,
The unreached Paradise of our despair,
Which o'er-informs the pencil and the pen,
And overpowers the page where it would bloom again?
_Childe Harold, Canto IV_. LORD BYRON.
We figure to ourselves
The thing we like, and then we build it up
As chance will have it, on the rock or sand;
For thought is tired of wandering o'er the world,
And home-bound Fancy runs her bark ashore.
_Philip Van Artevelde, Pt. I, Act i. Sc. 5_. SIR H. TAYLOR.
HAMLET. My father,--methinks I see my father.
HORATIO. Oh! where, my lord?
HAMLET. In my mind's eye, Horatio.
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawn
Indicative that suns go down;
The notice to the startled grass
That darkness is about to pass.
_Poems_. E. DICKINSON.