Thursday, October 31, 2013
On poetry and geometric truth . . .
On poetry and geometric truth
And their high privilege of lasting life,
From all internal injury exempt,
I mused; upon these chiefly: and at length,
My senses yielding to the sultry air,
Sleep seized me, and I passed into a dream.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
from The Prelude, Book 5