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Keats was ridding himself of the puerilities of Cockaigne when he wrote that fragment of an epic a fragment which is unsurpassed by any modern attempt at heroic composition. In reading it, the very earth seems shaking with the footsteps of fallen divinities.
No! the boat, which appeared to have the buoyancy of a feather, skipped over the threatening horror, and the next moment was out of danger, the boatman a true boatman of Cockaigne that elevating one of his sculls in sign of triumph, the man hallooing, and the woman, a true Englishwoman that of a certain class waving her shawl.
I The Pastime-ground of old Cockaigne II The Broken Gittern III The Trader and the Gentle; or, the Changing Generation IV Ill fares the Country Mouse in the Traps of Town V Weal to the Idler, Woe to the Workman VI Master Marmaduke Nevile fears for the Spiritual Weal of his Host and Hostess VII There is a Rod for the Back of every Fool who would be Wiser than his Generation
"And what part of the country did he come from: do you happen to know?" inquired Morley, evidently much interested, though he attempted to conceal his emotion. "He may be a veritable subject of the kingdom of Cockaigne, for aught I know," replied his friend.
The chintz covered sofa and chairs, even though the chintz was ugly, had the pleasant country-house look, which suggests afternoon tea, and chatting friends; a bright fire, flowers and a lavish strewing of books completed the hospitable impression. Yet Madeleine Tonbridge had by no means come to Maumsey Abbey, at Winnington's bidding, as to a Land of Cockaigne.
No! the boat, which appeared to have the buoyancy of a feather, skipped over the threatening horror, and the next moment was out of danger, the boatman a true boatman of Cockaigne, that elevating one of his skulls in sign of triumph, the man hallooing, and the woman, a true Englishwoman that of a certain class waving her shawl.
What can ever happen henceforth, save infinite railroads and crystal palaces, peace and plenty, cockaigne and dilettantism, to the end of time? Is it not full sixty whole years since the first French revolution, and six whole years since the revolution of all Europe?
Each of these wonder-dealers found his separate group of admirers, and great was the delight and loud the laughter in the pastime-ground of old Cockaigne.
Venting these and many similar specimens of the humour of Cockaigne, the apprentices, however, followed their quondam colleague, and elbowed their way into the crowd gathered around the competitors at the butt; and it was at this spot, commanding a view of the whole space, that the spectator might well have formed some notion of the vast following of the House of Nevile.
And this, in the nineteenth century, when men are telling us that the poetic and enthusiastic have become impossible, and that the only possible state of the world henceforward will be a universal good-humoured hive, of the Franklin-Benthamite religion . . . a vast prosaic Cockaigne of steam mills for grinding sausages for those who can get at them.
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