Trochee trips from long to short; From long to long in solemn sort Slow Spondee stalks. - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

On awakening he appeared to himself to have a distinct recollection of the whole, and taking his pen, ink, and paper, instantly and eagerly wrote down the lines that are here preserved. At this moment he was unfortunately called out by a person on business from Porlock, and detained by him above an hour, and on his return to his room, found, to his no small surprise and mortification, that though he still retained some vague and dim recollection of the general purport of the vision, yet, with the exception of some eight or ten scattered lines and images, all the rest had passed away like the images on the surface of a stream into which a stone has been cast, but, alas! without the after restoration of the latter!

A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the earth.

How seldom, Friend! a good great man inherits Honour or wealth, with all his worth and pains! It sounds like stories from the land of spirits, If any man obtain that which he merits, Or any merit that which he obtains. . For shame, dear Friend! renounce this canting strain! … Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends!
Hath he not always treasures, always friends,
The good great man? Three treasures, and ,
And , regular as infants' breath;
And three firm friends, more sure than day and night,
, his , and the Angel .