The Poetical and Dramatic Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: With a Life of the Author |
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Page xxix
... voice rose like a steam of rich distilled perfumes , ' and when he came to the two last words , which he pronounced loud , deep , and distinct , it seemed to me , who was then young , as if the sounds had echoed from the bottom of the ...
... voice rose like a steam of rich distilled perfumes , ' and when he came to the two last words , which he pronounced loud , deep , and distinct , it seemed to me , who was then young , as if the sounds had echoed from the bottom of the ...
Page xxxiv
... voice , the ballad of Betty Foy . I was not critically or scepti- cally inclined , I saw touches of truth and nature , and took the rest for granted . But in the Thorn , the Mad Mother , and the Complaint of a Poor Indian Woman , I felt ...
... voice , the ballad of Betty Foy . I was not critically or scepti- cally inclined , I saw touches of truth and nature , and took the rest for granted . But in the Thorn , the Mad Mother , and the Complaint of a Poor Indian Woman , I felt ...
Page xxxv
... voice , a deep guttural intonation , and a strong tincture of the northern burr , like the crust on wine . We went over to All - Foxden again the day following , and Wordsworth read us the story of Peter Bell in the open air ; and the ...
... voice , a deep guttural intonation , and a strong tincture of the northern burr , like the crust on wine . We went over to All - Foxden again the day following , and Wordsworth read us the story of Peter Bell in the open air ; and the ...
Page lxv
... voice , announcing my own name , first awoke him : he started , and for a moment seemed at a loss to understand my purpose , or his own situation ; for he repeated rapidly a number of words which had no relation to either of us . There ...
... voice , announcing my own name , first awoke him : he started , and for a moment seemed at a loss to understand my purpose , or his own situation ; for he repeated rapidly a number of words which had no relation to either of us . There ...
Page lxx
... voice , Which from my childhood to maturer years Spake to me of predestinated wreaths , Bright with no fading colours ! Yet at times My soul is sad , that I have roam'd through life Still most a stranger , most with naked heart At mine ...
... voice , Which from my childhood to maturer years Spake to me of predestinated wreaths , Bright with no fading colours ! Yet at times My soul is sad , that I have roam'd through life Still most a stranger , most with naked heart At mine ...
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The Poetical and Dramatic Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: With a Life of ... Samuel Taylor Coleridge No preview available - 2016 |
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anguish arms army beneath breast Butler Coleridge Coun Countess dear Derwent Coleridge dost doth dream Duch Duke Egra Emperor enemy evil Exit faith father fear feelings fortune Friedland Gillman give hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry Green hither holy honour hope hour Illo Isolani Jesus College Lady light look Lord Macd Maradas meek mind morning mother ne'er Nether Stowey Neub never night o'er Octavio pause peace Piccolomini Pixies poems poet poison'd Prague Ques Questenberg regiment round S. T. COLERIDGE SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE Sara Coleridge SCENE silent song Sonnet soul spirit stand stars Stowey Swedes sweet tear Tertsky thee Thek Thekla thine thing thou hast thought thro thyself tion trust Twas voice Wallenstein whole wild word Wordsworth Wran youth Мах
Popular passages
Page 185 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain. Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and wat'ry depths; all these have vanished ; They live no longer in the faith of reason!
Page 94 - Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.
Page 106 - Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company \~ To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay...
Page 88 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
Page 97 - Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the sky-lark sing; sometimes all little birds that are, how they seemed to fill the sea and air with their sweet jargoning! And now 'twas like all instruments, now like a lonely flute; and now it is an angel's song, that makes the heavens be mute.
Page 81 - ALL thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined 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 Genevieve...
Page 98 - gan stir, With a short uneasy motion Backwards and forwards half her length With a short uneasy motion. Then, like a pawing horse let go, She made a sudden bound: It flung the blood into my head, And I fell down in a swound.
Page li - tis Death itself there dies. EPITAPH. STOP, Christian Passer-by — Stop, child of God, And read with gentle breast. Beneath this sod A poet lies, or that which once seem'd he — O lift one thought in prayer for STC ; That he who many a year with toil of breath Found death in life, may here find life in death ! Mercy for praise — to be forgiven for fame He ask'd, and hoped, through Christ. Do thou the same ! AN ODE TO THE RAIN.
Page 78 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Page 101 - It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring — It mingled strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming. Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze — On me alone it blew.