In his loneliness and fixedness he yearneth towards the journeying Moon, and the stars that still sojourn, yet still move onward; and everywhere the blue sky belongs to them, and is their appointed rest, and their native country, and their own natural homes which they enter unannounced, as lords that are certainly expected, and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival.
(One of the marginal glosses appended by Coleridge to The Ancient Mariner.)
Oh that's beautiful!
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