Since every mortal power of Coleridge Was frozen at its marvellous source, The rapt one, of the godlike forehead, The heaven-eyed creature sleeps in earth: And Lamb, the frolic and the gentle, Has vanished from his lonely hearth.

Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality.

A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard... Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.

Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged.

In modern business it is not the crook who is to be feared most, it is the honest man who doesn't know what he is doing.

Yet tears to human suffering are due; And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone.

He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own.