Wildernefs of this world. I lighted on a certain place where there was a den, and I laid me down in that place to sleep and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. He dreamed his dream; he told it in the mofi childlike way; and now the world will as soon forget Shakfpeare as it will forget him. He is the prince of dreamers, as Homer is the prince of poets. The scenery of his vifion has become.