The description might stand alone, but better than it is the image it gives of the joy, fancifulness and creativeness of a young poet, making his web of thoughts and imaginations, swinging in their centre like the spider; all of them subtle as the spider's threads, obeying every passing wind of impulse, and gemmed with the dew and sunlight of youth.
Again, in _A Bean-stripe: also Apple-Eating_, Ferishtah is asked--Is life a good or bad thing, white or black?
"Good," says Ferishtah, "if one keeps moving.

I only move.

When I stop, I may stop in a black place or a white.

But everything around me is motionless as regards me, and is nothing more than stuff which tests my power of throwing light and colour on them as I move.

It is I who make life good or bad, black or white.