introduce, without reference to more than the general complexion of his
story, whatever sentiments or images his fancy, in its excursions, could
collect; and how little fettered he was by any regard to connection in
these additions, appears from a note which accompanied his own copy of
the paragraph commencing "Fair clime, where every season smiles,"--in
which he says, "I have not yet fixed the place of insertion for the
following lines, but will, when I see you--as I have no copy."

Even into this new passage, rich as it was at first, his fancy
afterwards poured a fresh infusion,--the whole of its most picturesque
portion, from the line "For there, the Rose o'er crag or vale," down to
"And turn to groans his roundelay," having been suggested to him during
revision. In order to show, however, that though so rapid in the first
heat of composition, he formed no exception to that law which imposes
labour as the price of perfection, I shall here extract a few verses
from his original draft of this paragraph, by comparing which with the
form they wear at present[63] we may learn to appreciate the value of
these after-touches of the master.

"Fair clime! where _ceaseless summer_ smiles
Benignant o'er those blessed isles,
Which, seen from far Colonna's height,
Make glad the heart that hails the sight,
And _give_ to loneliness delight.
There _shine the bright abodes ye seek,
Like dimples upon Ocean's cheek,--
So smiling round the waters lave_
These Edens of the eastern wave.
Or if, at times, the transient breeze
Break the _smooth_ crystal of the seas,