"they have a strain of the divinity," replied the poet. "you can hear in them the far-off echo of a heavenly song. but my life, dear ernest, has not corresponded with my thought. i have had grand dreams, but they have been only dreams, because i have lived and that, too, by my own choice among poor and mean realities. sometimes even shall i dare to say it? i lack faith in the grandeur, the beauty, and the goodness, which my own words are said to have made more evident in nature and in human life. why, then, pure seeker of the good and true, shouldst thou hope to find me, in yonder image of the divine?"