272 OPINIONS ON THE POETS 



has heard in some wild and lovely spot among the hills or 

 lakes of this world at twilight time : I felt my soul full of music 

 while listening to it, and held my breath in very excess of delight. 

 Suddenly I heard the sound of approaching feet, and a confused 

 mingling of voices ; the Spirit touched me into invisibility, and 

 then softly faded into sunny air herself. 



In a little time I saw a motley crowd advancing confusedly to 

 the stream : I soon perceived that they were each provided with 

 vessels to bear away some portion of the immortal waters. They 

 all paused at a little distance from the spot on which I was 

 reclining; and then each walked singly and slowly from the 

 throng and dipped his vessel in the blue wild wave of Castaly. 

 As well as I can recollect, I will endeavour to describe the 

 manner and words of the most interesting of our living poets on 

 this most interesting occasion. The air about the spot seemed 

 brighter with their presence, and the waves danced along with a 

 livelier delight : Pegasus might be seen coursing the winds in 

 wild rapture on one of the neighbouring mountains, and sounds 

 of glad and viewless wings were heard at intervals in the air, as 

 if " troops of spirits were revelling over head and rejoicing at the 

 scene." 



And first, methought, a lonely and melancholy figure slowly 

 moved forth and silently filled a Grecian urn : — I knew by the 

 look of nobility, and the hurried and turbulent plunge with which 

 the vessel was dashed into the stream, that the owner was Lord 

 jByron. He shed some tears while gazing on the water, and ■ 

 they seemed to make it purer and fairer : he declared that he 

 would keep the urn by him, untouched "for some years;" but 

 he had scarcely spoken, ere he had sprinkled forth some careless 

 drops on the earth. lie suddenly retreated. 



There then advanced a polite personage very oddly clad; he 

 had a breast plate on, and over that a scotch plaid — and, strange 

 to say, with these, silk stockings and dress shoes; this gentleman 

 brought an old helmet for his vessel ; — I guessed him to be 

 Walter Scott. His helmet did not hold enough for a very 

 deep draught, but the water it contained took a pleasant sparkle 

 from the warlike metal which shone through its shallowness. He 

 said he had disposed of his portion on advantageous terras. 



Next came Thomas Moore. You might have known him 

 by the wild lustre of his eye, and the fine freedom of his air ; he 

 gaily dipped a goblet in the tide, and vowed, in his high spirited 

 manner, that he would turn his share to nectar : he departed with 



