![]() And through Wall’s chink, poor souls, they are content To whisper. This man, with lime and roughcast, doth present Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers sunder. But wonder on, till truth make all things plain. ![]() Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show. Or if, in the night, they feel some fear, they see a bush and imagine it’s a bear! When people who have such strong imaginations feel some kind of joy, they imagine that it must be some entity or power that brings or creates that joy. And they take the unreal things that tumble out of their imagination and write about them as if they were actual places or things. Poets, who are always glancing around as if they are overcome by passion, make constant connections between things that are earthly and things that are heavenly. Lovers, who are just as wild, see a gypsy's face and think it is as beautiful as Helen of Troy's. Madmen, lovers, and poets all are all controlled by their imaginations: The ones who see devils and monsters all over the place-those are the madmen. Lovers and madmen have so much going on in their heads, such active imaginations, that they see and hear things that cool, calm, rational people can't understand. I don't believe any of these ancient stories or fairy tales. I think the story is more strange than it is true.
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