Samuel Taylor Coleridge

An instinctive taste teaches men to build their churches in flat
countries with spire steeples, which, as they cannot read more

An instinctive taste teaches men to build their churches in flat
countries with spire steeples, which, as they cannot be referred
to any other object, point as with silent finger to the sky and
stars.

The knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I read more

The knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I trust.

The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she.

The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she.

Never, believe me,
Appear the Immortals,
Never alone.

Never, believe me,
Appear the Immortals,
Never alone.

. . . So often do the spirits
Of great events stride on before the events,
And read more

. . . So often do the spirits
Of great events stride on before the events,
And in to-day already walks to-morrow.