Thanks,in turn, jd, for the detailed and extensively documented material in your replies; all that must have taken a while to compile.
A couple of side notes. It's always interested me how Lovecraft could be so interested in dreams, and yet so--it would seem--uninterested in the English Romantic poets and others of that time for whom dreams were such an important subject. If anyone has evidence to the contrary, then I'd be interested to see it. Of course, Lovecraft paid the usual lip service to Keats, Shelley,
et al., but I've never had the sense that he deeply engaged with them in any way.
My theory to explain this is that Lovecraft did not appreciate dream-like and imaginative literature deeply unless there was a strong component of fantasy involved--hence, his love of Dunsany. Keats was imaginative and very concerned with dreams, but he was no fantasist. (I realize that comparison is not ideal, but it serves its purpose).
Finally, here's an excerpt from Strachey's essay on Sir Thomas Browne, which contains a sentence occasionally paraphrased by CAS. It is a nice thumbnail illustration of the difference between the Attic and the Asiatic, as it relates to the English language.
Quote:Not only is the Saxon form of speech devoid of splendour and suggestiveness; its simplicity is still further emphasised by a spondaic rhythm which seems to produce (by some mysterious rhythmic law) an atmosphere of ordinary life, where, though the pathetic may be present, there is no place for the complex or the remote. To understand how unsuitable such conditions would be for the highly subtle and rarefied art of Sir Thomas Browne, it is only necessary to compare one of his periods with a typical passage of Saxon prose.
'Then they brought a faggot, kindled with fire, and laid the same down at Doctor Ridley's feet. To whom Master Latimer spake in this manner: 'Be of good comfort, Master Ridley, and play the man. We shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.'
Nothing could be better adapted to the meaning and sentiment of this passage than the limpid, even flow of its rhythm. But who could conceive of such a rhythm being ever applicable to the meaning and sentiment of these sentences from the Hydriotaphia?
To extend our memories by monuments, whose death we daily pray for, and whose duration we cannot hope without injury to our expectations in the advent of the last day, were a contradiction to our beliefs. We, whose generations are ordained in this setting part of time, are providentially taken off from such imaginations; and, being necessitated to eye the remaining particle of futurity, are naturally constituted unto thoughts of the next world, and cannot excusably decline the consideration of that duration, which maketh pyramids pillars of snow, and all that's past a moment.