'I' saw the dragon-fly
Come from the wells where he did lie,
An inner impulse rent the veil
Of his old husk: from head to tail
Came out clear plates of sapphire mail.
He dried his wings: like gauze they grew:
Through crofts and pastures wet with dew
A living flash of light he flew'. - Tennyson
'Deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempo or the dates of Aready?
What men or gods are these?
What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit?
What struggles to escape?
What pipes and timbrels?
What wild ecstasy?' - Keats