The poetical and dramatic works of S.T. Coleridge 3 vols, Volume 1

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Page 148 - All impulses of soul and sense had thrilled my guileless Genevieve; The music, and the doleful tale, the rich and balmy eve ; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, an undistinguishable throng, And gentle wishes long subdued, subdued and cherished long. She wept with pity and delight, she blushed with love and virgin shame ; And like the murmur of a dream, I heard her breathe my name.
Page 184 - Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above, Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity ! 0 dread and silent mount ! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer, I worshipped the Invisible alone.
Page 269 - I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware!
Page 240 - To her may all things live, from pole to pole, Their life the eddying of her living soul ! O simple spirit, guided from above, Dear Lady ! friend devoutest of my choice, Thus mayest thou ever, evermore rejoice.
Page 111 - 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 176 - Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove, The Linnet and Thrush say, " I love and I love !" In the winter they're silent — the wind is so strong ; What it says, I don't know, but it sings a loud song. But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather, And singing, and loving — all come back together. But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love, The green fields below him, the blue sky above, That he sings, and he sings ; and for ever sings he — " I love my Love, and my...
Page 216 - The frost performs its secret ministry, Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry Came loud — and hark, again ! loud as before. The inmates of my cottage, all at rest, Have left me to that solitude, which suits Abstruser musings: save that at my side My cradled infant slumbers peacefully. 'Tis calm indeed ' so calm, that it disturbs And vexes meditation with its strange And extreme silentness.
Page 238 - Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud We in ourselves rejoice! And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight, All melodies the echoes of that voice, All colours a suffusion from that light.
Page 145 - J3eside the ruin'd tower. The moonshine stealing o'er the scene Had blended with the lights of eve ; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear...
Page 215 - ... and once, when he awoke In most distressful mood (some inward pain Had made up that strange thing, an infant's dream) I hurried with him to our orchard-plot, And he beheld the moon, and, hushed at once, ^Suspends his sobs, and laughs most silently, While his fair eyes, that swam with...

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