Page:Christabel, Kubla Khan, The Pains of Sleep - Coleridge (1816).djvu/74

 With reverential resignation, No wish conceived, no thought expressed! Only a sense of supplication, A sense o'er all my soul imprest That I am weak, yet not unblest, Since in me, round me, every where Eternal Strength and Wisdom are.

But yester-night I pray'd aloud In anguish and in agony, Up-starting from the fiendish crowd Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me: A lurid light, a trampling throng, Sense of intolerable wrong, And whom I scorn'd, those only strong! Thirst of revenge, the powerless will Still baffled, and yet burning still! Desire with loathing strangely mixed On wild or hateful objects fixed.