ABSTRACT
But, ah, ye gods, the sense! Are we so sure If sense be sense unto our common-sense, Low sense to higher, high to low, no sense, All sense to those, all sense no sense to these? That’s where your poet tells!—and you’ve no right (Insensate sense with sensuous thought being mixed) To ask analysis! The meaning ask you, O ingenuous soul? Why, were there such for you, what then were left To puzzle brain with, pump conjecture dry, And prove you little where the poet’s great? Great must he be, you therefore little:—go! The curtain falls, the candles are snuffed out: End, damned obliquity, lugubrious plot!
