The Genius Of Coleridge Is Like A

Hamlet 's Character Is The Prevalence Of The Abstracting And Generalizing Habit Over The Practical. He Does Not Want Courage, Skill, Will, Or Opportunity; But Every Incident Sets Him Thinking; And It Is Curious, And At The Same Time Strictly Natural, That Hamlet, Who All The Play Seems Reason Itself, Should He Impelled, At Last, By Mere Accident To Effect His Object. I Have A Smack Of Hamlet Myself, If I May Say So.

O It Is Pleasant, With A Heart At Ease, Just After Sunset, Or By Moonlight Skies, To Make The Shifting Clouds Be What You Please.

...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.

Carved With Figures Strange And Sweet, All Made Out Of The Carver's Brain.

The Moving Moon Went Up The Sky, And Nowhere Did Abide: Softly She Was Going Up, And A Star Or Two Beside.