I am not officially developing the new “Little River” sketch, but lines flooded my thoughts this morning—ones that will almost certainly appear in the final draft. This was simply the result of mulling over the initial sketch, but being a Romanticist—albeit a rational one—I shall attribute the inspiration to the Muse—it seems more poetic.

I see little value in art solely conceived to present an illusion, however ingenious. Illusion is the method by which Art reveals Reality—even Truth. Devoid of this objective, illusion alone makes a wanting work, a mere momentary amusement.

One of the sorest decisions in poetry is sacrificing the line one adores for the one best suited to the poem; paradoxically, the latter is almost invariably worse than the former—and precisely therefore better!