Many's the night I dream of sandstone -
The Manse, A Chapter on Dreams -
but linksland, mostly, and sand,
and rain on a golf-shack roof.
Fortune, sequestered overseas,
or buried in the female line,
refreshed, may reassemble,
form a familiar self;
 |
but the Age of Books is over - will there always be vertiginous Idealists to light a panoramic dreamlife, and the company of Stevensonians? |
