In nature’s beauty: rather every day
We are idle letting beauteous things go by
Unheld, or scarce perceived. We cannot dream
Too deeply, nor o’erprize the mood of love,
When it comes on us strongly, and the hour
Is ripe for thought.
Deid.I have a thought, a dream;
If thou canst keep it secret.
Ach.I am thy slave.290
Deid. Suppose—’tis more than that, yet I’ll but say