With our hands on the steering-paddle, which was thrust deep into
the river, or bending to the oar, which indeed we rarely
relinquished, we felt each palpitation in the veins of our steed,
and each impulse of the wings which drew us above. The current
of our thoughts made as sudden bends as the river, which was
continually opening new prospects to the east or south, but we
are aware that rivers flow most rapidly and shallowest at these
points. The steadfast shores never once turned aside for us, but
still trended as they were made; why then should we always turn
aside for them?
A man cannot wheedle nor overawe his Genius. It requires to be
conciliated by nobler conduct than the world demands or can
appreciate. These winged thoughts are like birds, and will not
be handled; even hens will not let you touch them like
quadrupeds. Nothing was ever so unfamiliar and startling to a
man as his own thoughts.
To the rarest genius it is the most expensive to succumb and
conform to the ways of the world. Genius is the worst of lumber,
if the poet would float upon the breeze of popularity.
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