+Stanza 39,+ 11. 1, 2. _Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not
sleep! He hath awakened from the dream of life._ Shelley now
proceeds boldly to declare that the state which we call death is to
be preferred to that which we call life. Keats is neither dead nor
sleeping. He used to be asleep, perturbed and tantalized by the
dream which is termed life. Having at last awakened from the
dream, he is no longer asleep: and, if life is no more than a dream,
neither does the cessation of life deserve to be named death.
The transition from one emotion to another in this passage, and
also in the preceding stanza, 'Nor let us weep,' &c., resembles
the transition towards the close of _Lycidas_--
'Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no more,
For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead,' &c.
The general view has considerable affinity to that which is
expounded in a portion of Plato's dialogue _Phaedo_, and which has
been thus summarised. 'Death is merely the separation of soul
and body. And this is the very consummation at which Philosophy
aims: the body hinders thought,--the mind attains to truth
by retiring into herself.
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