" The young genius of the master of all our poets finds
its consummation in the _Midsummer Night's Dream_. The blank verse is as
full, sweet, and strong as the best of Biron's or Romeo's; the rhymed
verse as clear, pure, and true as the simplest and truest melody of
_Venus and Adonis_ or the _Comedy of Errors_. But here each kind of
excellence is equal throughout; there are here no purple patches on a
gown of serge, but one seamless and imperial robe of a single dye. Of
the lyric or the prosaic part, the counterchange of loves and laughters,
of fancy fine as air and imagination high as heaven, what need can there
be for any one to shame himself by the helpless attempt to say some word
not utterly unworthy? Let it suffice us to accept this poem as the
landmark of our first stage, and pause to look back from it on what lies
behind us of partial or of perfect work.
The highest point attained in this first period lies in the domain of
comedy or romance, and belongs as much to lyric as to dramatic poetry;
its sovereign quality is that of sweetness and springtide of fairy fancy
crossed with light laughter and light trouble that end in perfect music.
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