Throughout the restless night I hear the footsteps
over my head.
Who walks? I do not know. It is the phantom
of the jail, the sleepless brain, a man, the
man, the Walker.
One -- two -- three -- four; four paces and the
wall." ¹

Or take this:

" Jerusalem a handful of ashes blown by the wind,
extinct,
The Crusaders' streams of shadowy midnight
troops sped with the sunrise,
Amadis, Tancred, utterly gone, Charlemagne,
Roland, Oliver gone,
Palmerin, ogre, departed, vanish'd the turrets that
Usk from its waters reflected,
Arthur vanish'd with all his knights, Merlin and
Lancelot and Galahad, all gone, dissolv'd
utterly like an exhalation;
Pass'd! Pass'd! for us, forever pass'd, that once so
mighty world, now void, inanimate, phan-
tom world,
Embroider'd, dazzling, foreign world, with all its
gorgeous legends, myths,
Its kings and castles proud, its priests and warlike
lords and courtly dames,
Pass'd to its charnel vault, coffin'd with crown and
armor on,
Blazon'd with Shakspere's purple page,
And dirged by Tennyson's sweet sad rhyme." ²

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