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The Poetical Works of S.T. Coleridge: With a Memoir
Samuel Taylor Coleridge,Charles Eliot Norton
No preview available - 2015
amid arms babe beneath blessed blest boughs bower breast breath breeze bright calm cheek child clouds curse dance dark dart dear deep dream Earl Henry earth Edward ELBINGERODE Ellen EOLIAN fair fancy fear feel flowers gale gazed gentle glad groans haply hath hear heard heart heave heaven hills holy hope hour I'd rather dance immortal song Jeremy Taylor joy ray lady Lewti life's light limbs maid Mary's neck meek melancholy mind moon mossy mother murmur muse Nature ne'er night o'er pain pang Peace Pixies playmate pleasure poem prayer round sigh silent sing Slau sleep smile soft song SONNET soothed sorrow soul sound spirit stars stept stream sweet sweet sensations swelling tale tears thee thine thou thought thought Industrious throne toil trembling twas Twill vale voice wild wind wing youth
Page 266 - By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced...
Page 216 - Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee, Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall. Heard only in the trances of the blast, Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, Quietly shining to the quiet Moon, DEJECTION.
Page 109 - And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held: And they cried with a loud voice, saying, How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?
Page 183 - Who gave you your invulnerable life, Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, Unceasing thunder and eternal foam? And who commanded (and the silence came), Here let the billows stiffen, and have rest?
Page 184 - God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer ! and let the ice-plains echo, God...
Page 233 - Well! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence, This night, so tranquil now, will not go hence Unroused by winds, that ply a busier trade Than those which mould yon cloud in lazy flakes, Or the dull sobbing draft, that moans and rakes Upon the strings of this ^olian lute, Which better far were mute.
Page 215 - Fill up the interspersed vacancies And momentary pauses of the thought ! My babe so beautiful ! it thrills my heart With tender gladness, thus to look at thee...
Page 264 - The author continued for about three hours in a profound sleep, at least of the external senses, during which time he has the most vivid confidence, that he could not have composed less than from two to three hundred lines ; if, that indeed can be called composition in which all the images rose up before him as things, with a parallel production of the correspondent expressions, without any sensation or consciousness of effort.