trophy of labour, of the application "of patient touches of unwearied
art". Whoever will turn, say to 'The Palace of Art,' to ''none,' to the
'Dream of Fair Women,' or even to 'The Sea-Fairies' and to 'The Lady of
Shalott,' will see what labour was expended on their composition.
Nothing indeed can be more interesting than to note the touches, the
substitution of which measured the whole distance between mediocrity and
excellence. Take, for example, the magical alteration in the couplet in
the 'Dream of Fair Women':--


One drew a sharp knife thro' my tender throat
Slowly,--and nothing more,


into


The bright death quiver'd at the victim's throat;
Touch'd; and I knew no more.


Or, in the same poem:--


What nights we had in Egypt!
I could hit His humours while I cross'd him.
O the life I led him, and the dalliance and the wit,


into