summer
holidays, and the greenness of fields, and the delicious juices of
meats, and fishes, and society; and the cheerful glass; and
candle-light; and fireside conversations ; and innocent vanities, and
jests ; and even irony itself ! Do these things go out with life ? " "
Can a ghost laugh, or shake his gaunt sides when you are pleasant with
him ? " " And you, my midnight darlings, my Folios ! Must I part with
the intense delight of having you (huge armfuls) in my embrace ? Must
knowledge come to me, if it come at all, by some awkward experiment of
intuition, and no longer by the familiar processes of reading ? " "
Shall I enjoy friendships there, wanting the smiling indications which
point me to them here ; the recognisable face ; the ' sweet
assurance of a look ' ? "---------" But, there ! Avaunt,
thou
grim phantom of sadness ! Out on thee, we say ! Away with your puling
fears just now expressed! Another cup, say we, of the generous juice of
the grape ! —So have they passed like a cloud ! clear washed-away by a
spell of true Helicon ; the only Spa for all such moping hypochondries
! "
Thus
recites, as akin to our purpose, the gentle Elia, (straight from the
table of the Gods), lending us the lustre of his peerless prose, which
" Shakespeare himself might have written, and a Hamlet might have
quoted,"
(as Leigh Hunt so aptly pronounces)___Forthwith, in
opportune verse, Herrick, our erstwhile Poet-Preceptor, takes up his cue melodious :—
" MAY GOD BLESS THE BOOK ! "
"
For every sentence, clause, and word, That's not inlaid with Thee, O
Lord, Forgive me, God ; and blot each line Out of this Book that is not
Thine !
