Whether nature or a god is to blame,
Our mortal fire is stoked with fantasy
To jeer at reason, will and memory
And raise within the soul a mocking flame:
Its flashing visions - pleasure, wealth, and fame
- Lick lewdly round the cold reality.
Imagination's higher liberty
Shows fantasy not life has true joy's claim.

And art is ours to sooth real life's disease
To lead imagination on to gain
The pinnacle of ectasy, the crest.
And if the greatest art gives most release
Intensest thrill, most diff'rent from mundane,
Then unchain Eros and enjoy the best.