THE VISIONS OF THE SLEEPING BARD
I.--VISION OF THE WORLD.
On {1a} the fine evening of a warm and mellow summer I betook me up one
of the mountains of Wales, {1b} spy-glass in hand, to enable my feeble
sight to see the distant near, and to make the little to loom large.
Through the clear, tenuous air and the calm, shimmering heat, I beheld
far, far away over the Irish Sea many a fair scene. At last, when mine
eyes had taken their fill of all the beauty around me, and the sun well
nigh had reached his western ramparts, I lay down on the sward, musing
how fair and lovely compared with mine own land were the distant lands of
whose delightful plains I had just obtained a glimpse; how fine it would
be to have full view thereof, and how happy withal are they, besides me
and my sort, who have seen the world's course. So, from the long
journeying of mine eye, and afterwards of my mind, came weariness, and
beneath the cloak of weariness came my good Master Sleep {1c} stealthily
to bind me, and with his leaden keys safe and sound he locked the windows
of mine eyes and all mine other senses. But it was in vain he tried to
lock up the soul which can exist and travel without the body; for upon
the wings of fancy my spirit soared free from out the straitened corpse,
and the first thing I perceived close by was a dancing-knoll and such a
fantastic rout {4a} in blue petticoats and red caps, briskly footing a
sprightly dance.
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