And naught remain but what may seem 
Imagination’s fairy dream, 
Or the sweet strain, if such there were, 
Of Prospero’s spirit in the anr. 
Oh, for that strength of voice and wing 
To sing and soar, to soar and sing; 
With all his joyousness of heart 
From earth’s encumbrances apart; 
And with heaven’s denizens on high 
To revel mid the calm clear sky 1 
Fancy is a fairy, that can hear, 
Ever, the melody of nature’s voice, 
And see all lovely visions that she will. 
Mrs. Osgood. 
All impediments in fancy’s course 
Are motives of more fancy. 
> Shalcspeare. 
Ever let the fancy roam, 
Pleasure never is at home; 
Then let winged Fancy wander 
Through the thoughts still spread beyond her: 
Oh, sweet Fancy! let her loose, 
Every thing is spoilt by use. 
Kent. 
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