3

Methinks I see these things with parted eye,
When everything seems double



Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends.

There are three conditions which often look alike
Yet differ completely, flourish in the same hedgerow:

The lunaitc, the lover, and the poet
are of imagination all compact.

Attachment to self and to things and to persons

The lover, all as frantic,
Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt.

detachment from self and from things and from persons;

One sees more devils than vast hell can hold:
That is the madman.

And, growing between them, indifference,
Which resembles the others as death resembles life,

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to
heaven,

unflowering, between
The live and the dead nettle.

And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
a local habiation and a name.

History may be servitude, History may be freedom.
See, now they vanish,
The faces and places, with the self which, as it could, loved them,
To become renewed, transfigured, in another pattern.

Such tricks hath strong imagination
That, if it would but apprehend some joy,
It comprehends some bringer of that joy;
Or in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear!


    Sin is behovely, but
All shall be well, and

All manner of thing shall be well.
If I think, again, of this place,
And of people, not wholly commendable,
Of no immediate kin or kindness,
But some of peculiar genius
United in the strife which divided them;
If I think of a king at nightfall,
Of three men, and more, on the scaffold
And a few who died fogotten
In other places, here and abroad,
And of one who died blind and quiet,
Why shoud we celebrate
These dead men more than the dying?
It is not to ring the bell backward
Nor is it an incantation
To summon the spectre of a Rose.

 But all the story of the night told over,
And all their minds transfigured so together,
More witnesseth than fancy's images
And grows to something of great constancy;
But howsoever, strange and admirable.

And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
By the purification of the motive
In the ground of our beseeching.