Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned read more

Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round, walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.

The moving moon went up to the sky,
And nowhere did abide;
Softly she was going up,
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The moving moon went up to the sky,
And nowhere did abide;
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside.

Ah! replied my gentle fair,
Beloved, what are names but air?
Choose thou, whatever suits the line:
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Ah! replied my gentle fair,
Beloved, what are names but air?
Choose thou, whatever suits the line:
Call me Sappho, call me Chloris,
Call me Lalage, or Doris,
Only, only, call me thine.

He holds him with his glittering eye--
. . . .
And listens like a three years' read more

He holds him with his glittering eye--
. . . .
And listens like a three years' child.

Ancestral voices prophesying war.

Ancestral voices prophesying war.