Dreams in illness... may tend to either extreme, serenity or horror. It was in illness I dreamed that I held between my fingertips the strangest and most entrancing object I have ever seen. This was a hollow orb some four inches in diameter, interwoven of an exquisite translucent trellis-work resembling crystal, through every vein of which coursed an ethereal fluid continually changing in colour. This, as I watched it in awe and admiration, I recognised as the very citadel of life itself!

It was perhaps a phantasmal replica of some humble physical organ--although even the heart itself, to which we impute our sharpest joys and sorrows, is hardly a thing of obvious beauty to the naked eye. Dream would know better.

In this same illness, in a wild and solitary valley in winter, I kept an assignation, made I know not when or where, with a white horse--blue-eyed. But this memorable dream has also been related elsewhere.

EDITOR'S NOTES

So far I haven't found his "memorable dream" of a blue-eyed horse. Anyone know?

SOURCE: Walter de la Mare's Behold, This Dreamer! (1939)

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