That are seen so near,--that are seen so far;
--Those dropping waters that come from the rocks
And many a hole, like the haunt of a fox.
That silvery stream that runs babbling along,
Making a murmuring, dancing song.
Those trees that stand waving upon the rock's side,
And men, that, like specters, among them glide.
And waterfalls that are heard from far,
And come in sight when very near.
And the water-wheel that turns slowly round,
Grinding the corn that--requires to be ground,--

(Political Economy of the future!)

----And mountains at a distance seen,
And rivers winding through the plain,
And quarries with their craggy stones,
And the wind among them moans."

So foretelling Stones of Venice, and this essay on Athena.

Enough now concerning myself.

113. Of Turner's life, and of its good and evil, both great, but the
good immeasurably the greater, his work is in all things a perfect and
transparent evidence. His biography is simply, "He did this, nor will
ever another do its like again." Yet read what I have said of him, as
compared with the great Italians, in the passages taken from the "Cestus
of Aglaia," farther on, §158, pp. 164, 165.