Oh Sleep! It Is A Gentle Thing,

How Inimitably Graceful Children Are In General-before They Learn To Dance.

Nothing Can Permanently Please, Which Doesn't Contain In Itself The Reason Why It Is So, And Not Otherwise.

The Sense Of Beauty Is Intuitive, And Beauty Itself Is All That Inspires Pleasure Without, And Aloof From, And Even Contrarily To Interest.

The Secondary Imagination I Consider As An Echo Of The Former, Co-existing With The Conscious Will, Yet Still As Identical With The Primary In The Kind Of Its Agency, And Differing Only In Degree, And In The Mode Of Its Operation. It Dissolves, Diffuses, Dissipates, In Order To Recreate: Or Where This Process Is Rendered Impossible, Yet Still At All Events It Struggles To Idealize And To Unify. It Is Essentially Vital, Even As All Objects (as Objects) Are Essentially Fixed And Dead.

That Saints Will Aid If Men Will Call; For The Blue Sky Bends Over All!