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Though I should gaze for ever

On that green light that lingers in the west

I may not hope from outward forms to win

The passion and the life, whose fountains are within

From the soul itself must issue forth

A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud

Enveloping the earth

And from the soul itself must there be sent

A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth,

Of all sweet sounds the life and element

Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind,

Reality’s dark dream

I turn from you, and listen to the wind,

Which long has raved unnoticed

What a scream

Of agony by torture lengthened out

― Samuel Taylor Coleridge