Samuel Taylor Coleridge — The Wills of the Wisp

Lunatic Witch-fires! Ghosts of Light and Motion! Fearless I see you weave your wanton dances Near me, far off me; you, that tempt the traveller        &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbspOnward and onward. Wooing, retreating, till the swamp beneath him Groans—and 'tis dark!—This woman's wile—I know it! Learnt it from thee, from thy perfidious glances!        &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbspBlack-ey'd Rebecca!