ABSTRACT
They who had fed their childhood upon dreams, The play-fellows of fancy, who had made All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength Their ministers . . . Did . . . find helpers to their hearts’ desire, And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish,— Were called upon to exercise their skill, Not in Utopia,—subterranean fields,— Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where! But in the very world, which is the world Of all of us,—the place where, in the end, We find our happiness, or not at all!
