I do love the Bard....and Poe. This part got to me. Whose horrid...

I do love the Bard....and Poe. This part got to me.

Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair​

And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,​

Against the use of nature?​

Present fears are less than horrible imaginings. ​

Reminded me of Poe's

There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart --an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime. What was it --I paused to think --what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher? It was a mystery all insoluble; nor could I grapple with the shadowy fancies that crowded upon me as I pondered. I was forced to fall back upon the unsatisfactory conclusion, that while, beyond doubt, there are combinations of very simple natural objects which have the power of thus affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among considerations beyond our depth.