Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Aplolgia Pro Vita Sua

The poet in his lone yet genial hour
Gives to his eyes a magnifying power:
Or rather he emancipates his eyes
From the black shapeless accidents of size—
In unctuous cones of kindling coal,
Or smoke upwreathing from the pipe’s trim bole,
    His gifted ken can see
    Phantoms of sublimity.

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