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I sometimes sat down a guest at the banquet of the Gods.....and sometimes rambled in the Elysian fields amidst the blessed Spirits of Immortality.

It may seem paradoxical........ but is nevertheless true.......that the charms of imagination excel all those which Nature has given to the senses.

Imagination is more brilliant than the lustre of meridian day........ It possesses more attraction than the incensebreathing morn......the fragrant bloom of Spring......or the full-ripened beau

ties of maturing Summer.......Its form is ever new....... its colours ever varied * - - - - - - - its changes rapid........fascination succeeds to fascination....... and all is perfect. In short......imagination creates its own worlds......its own objects.....and

teaches them its own peculiar art of pleasing.

I passed eight days in the performance of those duties and consecrations enjoined me by Theogiton.......and by continued efforts to release my soul from all worldly propensities......... I worked myself up to a belief that I should witness something superior to any thing I had even surmised. One night.......when the lateness of the hour approached to Morn.......and all was still and hushed around me..... I wandered to the grotto of the Nymphs ....and having repeated many emphatic strains and holy invocations....I threw myself down a bank of turf.......with my face upwards.......intent upon the moon, which at that time shone full upon the grotto. I lay pondering on the probability of what might happen to me, if the resplendent Orb should quit her heavenly sphere to bless me as her Endymion.

I indulged this fancy till I was lost in its contemplation.....and insensibly slumbered into a sweet repose, from which I was awakened by melodious tones......... floating above me........ and which I found proceeded from the lyre of the God.

I was affected by this celestial harmony, which transported my feelings,.......... and I felt captivated by sounds excelling all the perfection of human execution......It was such as Apollo......alone.......could breathe...... Apollo.....from whose instruments the spheres are harmonised......... the Gods delighted........and all Olympus wrapt in wonder.

My whole soul was absorbed in the individual sense of hearing....it seemed

to quit my body.....and soar above the clouds. Suddenly......the music ceased.

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for the remainder of the night....Sleep forsook my eyes completely. I communicated this circumstance next day to Theogiton, who heard me with perfect composure......... but after making me repeat the particulars, he agreed that it might possibly be Apollo,.....or one of the Muses. Shall I confess it.....without knowing why, I wished ardently that it might have been one of the divine Sisters, rather than the God....... I repaired every night to the same spot, hoping to hear the lovely Muse again,

but was disappointed....... It proved to be Apollo himself. In one of these regular visits.......

while I was endeavoring to content myself with the inanimate company of the Cypress Nymphs......... a ray of superior brightness darted full into the grotto.......... The natural gloom of the place.......thus irradiated......foreboded to my heated fancy.....the celestial anticipation of some extraordinary event.

the God of Day.....forsaking the entwining arms of his lovely Thetis...... appeared before me.....giving splendor to the gloom of night. His golden ringlets flowed gracefully adown his shoulders.....a godlike circle of exceeding brightness shone around his forehead........ his sky-blue mantle glittered with ten thousand diamonds.....and his left arm supported his melodious lyre. I shrank from the glorious vision.... I did not dare to tempt the lustre of those eyes.....whose brilliant beams illuminate the world;....but my imagination supplied each beauty of the God, which reverence prevented me from gazing upon attentively. The divine Apollo approached me

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