then, I think, we shall be disposed to say that in Shakespeare's "I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine--"[291] it is mainly a Greek note which is struck. Then, again in his " ... look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold!"[292] we are at the very point of transition from the Greek note to the Celtic; there is the Greek clearness and brightness, with the Celtic aërialness and magic coming in. Then we have the sheer, inimitable Celtic note in passages like this:-- "Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead, By paved fountain or by rushy brook, Or in the beached margent of the sea--"[293] or this, the last I will quote:-- "The moon shines bright. In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise, in such a night Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls-- ... in such a night Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew-- ... in such a night _Stood Dido, with a willow in her hand, Upon the wild sea-banks, and waved her love To come again to Carthage._"[294] And those last lines of all are so drenched and intoxicated with the fairy-dew of that natural magic which is our theme, that I cannot do better than end with them. And now, with the pieces of evidence in our hand, let us go to those who say it is vain to look for Celtic elements in any Englishman, and let us ask them, first, if they seize what we mean by the power of natural magic in Celtic poetry: secondly, if English poetry does not eminently exhibit this power; and, thirdly, where they suppose English poetry got it from? GEORGE SAND[295] The months go round, and anniversaries return; on the ninth of June George Sand will have been dead just one year. She was born in 1804; she was almost seventy-two years old when she died. She came to Paris after the revolution of 1830, with her _Indiana_[296] written, and began her life of independence, her life of authorship, her life as _George Sand_. She continued at work till she died. For forty-five years she was writing and publishing, and filled Europe with her name.