Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/161

Rh Yet love its very unreality, Catching a fancy'd coolness from its blue, A feign'd refreshment from its waving palms, Content, so that it veil the burning sand That rings us round about, inevitably.

(To ):

And since you say that unattainable Your Truth, that is the only Beauty dwells Thron'd on a high crag, out of reach, afar, Past waters ferryless, unfordable, Unnavigable lakes and bridgeless streams, How know you but that some delusive mist Colour the sheer peak to a lovely hue, A black rock masquing in a painted veil, Unlovely, barren?

Fairer, better far Than sterile Truth, a fertile Fantasy! A lovely dream than dun reality!