And solitary places; where we taste
The pleasure of believing what we see
Is boundless, as we wish our souls to be.
[213] Cf. for example, the passage of Rousseau in the seventh Promenade (“Je sens des extases, des ravissements inexprimables à me fondre pour ainsi dire dans le système des êtres,” etc.) with the revery described by Wordsworth in The Excursion, I, 200-218.
[214] O belles, craignez le fond des bois, et leur vaste silence.
[215] Faust (Miss Swanwick’s translation).
[216] Artist and Public, 134 ff.
Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
What if my leaves are falling like its own!