“Oh! if thou wast willing! if thou wast willing!…
I have a pavilion on a promontory in the middle of an isthmus dividing two oceans.
It is all wain-scoted with sheets of glass, and floored with tortoise shell, and open to the four winds of heaven.
From its height I watch my fleets come in, and my nations toiling up the mountain slopes with burthens
upon their shoulders. There would we sleep upon downs softer than clouds;
we would drink cool draughts from fruit-shells, and we would
gaze at the sun through emeralds! Come!” …