Poems, Volume 1 |
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Page
... First Birth - Day Sonnets From Country to Town Sonnet To Shakspeare Sonnet
From Petrarca Sonnet To a lofty Beauty , from her poor Kinsman A Task ad
Libitum Song Stanzas A Brother's Love to his Sister “ Of such is the Kingdom of
God ” .
... First Birth - Day Sonnets From Country to Town Sonnet To Shakspeare Sonnet
From Petrarca Sonnet To a lofty Beauty , from her poor Kinsman A Task ad
Libitum Song Stanzas A Brother's Love to his Sister “ Of such is the Kingdom of
God ” .
Page 1
But now I find , how dear thou wert to me ; That man is more than half of nature's
treasure , Of that fair Beauty which no eye can see , Of that sweet music which no
ear can measure ; And now the streams may sing for others ' pleasure , The hills
...
But now I find , how dear thou wert to me ; That man is more than half of nature's
treasure , Of that fair Beauty which no eye can see , Of that sweet music which no
ear can measure ; And now the streams may sing for others ' pleasure , The hills
...
Page 4
She is not fond , nor coySelf - seeking love , and self - appraising scorn , She
knows not . She hath utterly forsworn , Her worldly dower of wealth , and pride ,
and joyHer very beauty none but they discover , Who for herself , not for her
beauty ...
She is not fond , nor coySelf - seeking love , and self - appraising scorn , She
knows not . She hath utterly forsworn , Her worldly dower of wealth , and pride ,
and joyHer very beauty none but they discover , Who for herself , not for her
beauty ...
Page 7
A darkling fire , faint hovering o'er a tomb , That but itself and darkness nought
doth shew , Is my love's being , -yet it cannot die , Nor will it change , though all
be chang'd beside ; Tho ' fairest beauty be no longer fair , Tho'vows be false , and
...
A darkling fire , faint hovering o'er a tomb , That but itself and darkness nought
doth shew , Is my love's being , -yet it cannot die , Nor will it change , though all
be chang'd beside ; Tho ' fairest beauty be no longer fair , Tho'vows be false , and
...
Page 16
The mellow year is hasting to its close ; The little birds have almost sung their last
, Their small notes twitter in the dreary blastThat shrill - piped harbinger of early
snows : The patient beauty of the scentless rose , Oft with the Morn's hoar ...
The mellow year is hasting to its close ; The little birds have almost sung their last
, Their small notes twitter in the dreary blastThat shrill - piped harbinger of early
snows : The patient beauty of the scentless rose , Oft with the Morn's hoar ...
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Common terms and phrases
ancient beauty beneath birds blessing bliss born breath bright child close cold dark dear despair dream earth eyes face fair faith fancies fate father's fear feel flow flower give green grow hand happy hath hear heard heart Heaven hills holy hope hour human kind knew leaves Leonard light live look memory mind mirth morn mortal mother nature never night notes o'er once pain pass passion past peace Poet poor pride proud pure seen sense sigh silent sing sire sleep smile soft song SONNET soon sorrow soul sound spirit strange sure Susan sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought truth virgin voice waste waters wave wild wind wish young youth
Popular passages
Page 149 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water ; the poop was beaten gold, Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
Page 155 - The fig-tree, not that kind for fruit renown'd, But such as, at this day, to Indians known; In Malabar or Decan spreads her arms, Branching so broad and long, that in the ground The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow About the mother tree, a pillar'd shade, High overarch'd, and echoing walks between...
Page 149 - So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings ; at the helm A seeming mermaid steers ; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her, and Antony, Enthron'd i...
Page 145 - mid cloisters dim, And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars. But thou, my babe ! shalt wander like a breeze By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores And mountain crags: so shalt thou see and hear The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible Of that eternal language, which thy God Utters, who from eternity doth teach Himself in all, and all things in Himself.
Page 147 - On Lough Neagh's bank as the fisherman strays, When the clear, cold eve's declining, He sees the round towers of other days In the waves beneath him shining...
Page 3 - Brightened the tresses that old Poets praise; Where Petrarch's patient love, and artful lays, And Ariosto's song of many themes, Moved the soft air. But I, a lazy brook, As close pent up within my native dell, Have crept along from nook to shady nook, Where flowrets blow, and whispering Naiads dwell Yet now we meet, that parted were so wide, O'er rough and smooth to travel side by side.
Page 146 - Love had he found in huts where poor Men lie : His daily Teachers had been Woods and Rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
Page 16 - The mellow year is hasting to its close; The little birds have almost sung their last, Their small notes twitter in the dreary blast— That shrill-piped harbinger of early snows: The patient beauty of the scentless rose, Oft with the morn's hoar crystal quaintly...
Page 1 - That, wisely doating, ask'd not why it doated, And ours the unknown joy, which knowing kills. But now I find, how dear thou wert to me; That man is more than half of nature's treasure. Of that fair Beauty which no eye can see, Of that sweet music which no ear can measure; And now the streams may sing for others' pleasure, The hills sleep on in their eternity.
Page 147 - ... mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder — everlastingly. Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here, If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, Thy nature is not therefore less divine: Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year; And worshipp'st at the Temple's inner shrine, God being with thee when we know it not.
Bibliographic information
| Title | Poems, Volume 1 Poems, Hartley Coleridge Volume 1 of Poems: Vol. I, Hartley Coleridge |
| Author | Hartley Coleridge |
| Publisher | F. E. Bingley, 1833 |
| Original from | Harvard University |
| Digitized | 3 Mar 2006 |
| Length | 157 pages |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |