MIDSUMMER MOONLIGHT 117 



as these on a cloth of white silver, I stepped out 

 of the wood on to the shore of the unruffled 

 pond. Here a man might well pause and take 

 no further step lest he fall into the blue depths 

 of space. The moon hangs like a great shield in 

 a sky of soft sapphire, piled with luminous fig- 

 ures. Within the wood are fairy and elf, goblin 

 and gnome, half seen in the filmy light. Here 

 giant genie stand revealed, passing in the dim 

 perspective of mighty distances or leaning por- 

 tentously from the radiant sky. In the mirror- 

 like pond I see all these things repeated in an un- 

 derworld that is as distinct and clear, yet 

 strangely distorted. The miles of soft blue dis- 

 tance that stretch invitingly upward to the with- 

 drawn stars of the zenith, stretch as soft and 

 blue, but fearsomely deep beneath my feet to the 

 nadir. Standing at the water's rim I am on the 

 verge of a vast, deep gulf that no plummet might 

 fathom, into which at another step I shall begin 

 to fall, and once falling fall forever, for there is 

 no bottom. It is all very well to say to one's self 

 that an inch below the mirroring surface lies the 

 good gray sand which was there by daylight. 

 The midsummer moon is past the full and things 

 are as they seem. 



