“To true felicity,” said she, “which even now thy spirit sees in dreams, but cannot behold in very truth, while thine eyes are engrossed with semblances.”

Then said I: “I beseech thee, do thou show to me her true shape without a moment’s loss.”

“Gladly will I, for thy sake,” said she. “But first I will try to sketch in words, and describe a cause which is more familiar to thee, that, when thou hast viewed this carefully, thou mayst turn thy eyes the other way, and recognise the beauty of true happiness.”

The Thorns of Error

Who fain would sow the fallow field, And see the growing corn, Must first remove the useless weeds, The bramble and the thorn.

After ill savour, honey’s taste Is to the mouth more sweet; After the storm, the twinkling stars The eyes more cheerly greet.