Note 7 — Chapter III
Reading edition
There is a fine picture of the passing of a hurricane in Paracelsus (p. 67, vol i.) which illustrates this inability to stop when he has done all he needs. Paracelsus speaks:
The hurricane is spent, And the good boat speeds through the brightening weather; But is it earth or sea that heaves below? The gulf rolls like a meadow-swell, o'erstrewn With ravaged boughs and remnants of the shore; And now, some islet, loosened from the land, Swims past with all its trees, sailing to ocean: And now the air is full of uptorn canes. Light strippings from the fan-trees, tamarisks Unrooted, with their birds still clinging to them, All high in the wind. Even so my varied life Drifts by me.
I think that the lines I have italicised should have been left out. They weaken what he has well done.