The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1906-01-05

WORK DONE OR IMAGINED WHILE
WRAPPED IN SLUMBER.

Stories Of Sublime Verse That Vas
Born During Sleep OaIy 10 Die In
the Waking of the Auihor-TIic Gem
That COIeridgc Lost.
In Sir MOuntstuart Duff's "Notes
From Il Diary" it is related that the
late Lord Lytton. when viceroy Of
India, had repeated TO his guests on
one occasion poem which he profess
nd to have composed when asleep:
There are boating and sailing
And fishing for Erayling
Where the blue waves roll nightly on
deep Galilcc.
But swceter the places
Where aldermenS braces
Are sold fer boot laces in bonnie Dun
dee.
The diarist ventured to doubt wheth-
or the viceroy was not trying to impose
on the credulity Of his friends, & sus-
picon which will be shared by most
readers.
But, whether these lines were dream
ed or not, there can be 70 doubt that
one of the most curious sections of the
which relates to tie comparative value
of work done or imagined in sleep. No
experience is more general than the
waking from a particularly vivid dream
only to find Ihat i'll the very process of
waking the whole vision, apparently SO
real and strong for Il brief moment,
vanishcs beyond recall. This dissolv-
ing touch Of psychical or dream life is
like the contact Of the air with long
entomhed, we'll preserved human body
suddenly exposed to the light of day
While the tomb openers gaze upon the
features so strangely preserved from
Il long past day the touch of the air
does It's work AND the relic of hui
manity crumblcs . dust.
A strange point about the difficulty
in keeping i'll mental grip OF Il dream
is that, although 10 detail can he re-
mcmbercd, an impression remains
which i'll cases that have been tested
has often turned OFT 10 be quite incOr-
rect. 1t is related by Miclllc, the Scot
fish poet, best known rs the translator
of the Portuguese epic, the "LuSiad'
of Camocns, thlt he always regretted
he could not Remember the poetry
which he composed il III; sleep. 1t
was, he said. 50 infinitely superior to
anything he could produce III his wax
ing hours. CEc morning OIL waking he
was lamcntinS, as he had so 0ften done
before, that he should be conscious Of
having composed such sublime poetry
L., IL H. Of
it. "Whatr' said his wife, who happen
ed to be awake. Were YOU writing
poetry" Yes" lie replied, ami such
poetry that | would give tic world to
remember it." We'll, then" said She,
Il did luckily hear the last lines, and
am sure l remembered them exactly.
They were:
"By heaven, I'll wrca-z my woes
Upon the coTslip and the pale primrose"
Mr.. Mickle was probably cured Of his
habit of lamcntution.
The late Lewis Carroll noted in his
F'Diary" that he once heard TcnnySon
relate that he had often dreamed long
passages of poetry and believed them
to be good at the time, but could never
remember any of them on waking eX-
cept four lines which he dreamed at
ten years old, and these were the NOV
ing verses:
May a cock sparrow
Write to Il barrow?
l hope you'll excuse
My infantie muse.
This, as the diarist remarks, as an
oh fro of LOT
reate, may be thought interesting, but
not affording much promise of his aft
er powers" On the same occasion Ten
nyson told his hearers that he once
dreamed an enormously long poem
about fairies, which began with very
long lines that gradually got shorter
and ended with fifty Or sixty lines Of
two syllablcs each.
On the other hand, poets have occa-
sionally found their dreams of service.
Southey in q letter to his brother says:
Fl forgot my dreams and have no Dan
iel to help out my recollection, and il
by chance l do remember them unless
they are instantly written down the inl-
preston passes away almost as lightly
say that one or two of his dreams We're
noted at the time and were afterWard
incorporated in scenes of his now little
read poem, The Curse of Kehama."
And then, of course, there is the IA
Imiliar story of Coleridge falling asleep
one summer afternoon in a quiet farm
house after reading about the Khan
IKublai in PUrchas' "Pilgrimes," COM
posing several hume I'd lines in the
course of three hours sleep, waking,
and at once beginning to write them
down. only to De interrupted ut the
fifty fourth lire by a visitor-that per
son from porlock" whose memory is
ieXecrated by all lovers Of poetry-with
the result that on returning to his desk
an hour later the poet found that the
rest Of his dream verse had faded from
his memory. "Kublai Khan" remains
a melodious fragment but if the per
son from Porlcck" had only lost his
way or had come to grief sufficient to
cause a delay OF an hour or two we
might have had Il completely beautiful
poem.-London Globe.