II: ELIMINATION OF A PICTURE & ITS SUBJECT--CALLED THE FELLER'S MASTER STROKE

by Richard Dadd

Sees nothing clearly, as his has
Blackly impositive and soon
Makes it as clear as sunny noon
That he has not –
Waiting this heavenly gift
I thought on nought – a shift
As good perhaps as thinking hard.
Fancy was not to be evoked
From her etherial realms
Or if so, then her purpose cloaked
And nuzzling the cloth, on which
The cloudy shades not rich,
Indefinite almost unseen
Lay vacant entities of chance,
Lent forms unto my careless glance
Without intent, pure fancy ’tis I mean
Design and composition thus –
Now minus and just here perhaps – plus -
Grew in this way – and so – or thus,
That fairly wrought they stand in view.
A fairy band, much as I say, just so
’tis true.

Part from the shades designed
Part a vain fancy, all inclined
A common end to gain
Of nothing something still
To stand before, the sight to fill
Something we have, having, we
Yet have not
Be it so or nay, why care a jot?
But there they are – and now
They stand a theme – a field to plough
And silent reap what any choose
Judiciously or not to lose.
All, the significance may give
They surely think in this doth live.
As Nature’s Pages open spread
By erudite or fools are read,
To this one seems the world a den
While that a paradise in it doth ken
In the same place, ’tis lore
Preacquisite, the wise man’s store
Gives off a value rich & full
To that sprung from a sense so dull
It does not half appreciate
Upon that which it doth dilate

Continues with Part III