The Bride Hath Paced Into The Hall,

You Do Not Believe, You Only Believe That You Believe.

A Bitter And Perplexed "what Shall I Do?" Is Worse To Man Than Worse Necessity.

The Intelligible Forms Of Ancient Poets, The Fair Humanities Of Old Religion, The Power, The Beauty, And The Majesty That Had Their Haunts In Dale Or Piny Mountain, Or Forest By Slow Stream, Or Pebbly Spring, Or Chasms And Watery Depths, All These Have Vanished; They Live No Longer In The Faith Of Reason.

[coleridge] Selected An Instance Of What Was Called The Sublime, In Darwin, Who Imagined The Creation Of The Universe To Have Taken Place In A Moment, By The Explosion Of A Mass Of Matter In The Womb, Or Centre Of Space. In One And The Same Instant Of Time, Suns And Planets Shot Into Systems In Every Direction, And Filled And Spangled The Illimitable Void! He Asserted This To Be An Intolerable Degradation -referring, As It Were, All The Beauty And Harmony Of Nature To Something Like The Bursting Of A Barrel Of Gunpowder! That Spit Its Combustible Materials Into A Pock-freckled Creation!

...in Consequence Of The Film Of Familiarity And Selfish Solicitude, We Have Eyes Yet See Not, Ears That Hear Not, And Hearts That Neither Feel Nor Understand.