Poems: Vol. I.F. E. Bingley, 1833 - 157 pages |
From inside the book
Page 16
... Morn's hoar chrystal quaintly glass'd , Hangs , a pale mourner for the summer past , And makes a little summer where it grows : In the chill sunbeam of the faint brief day The dusky waters shudder as they shine , The russet leaves ...
... Morn's hoar chrystal quaintly glass'd , Hangs , a pale mourner for the summer past , And makes a little summer where it grows : In the chill sunbeam of the faint brief day The dusky waters shudder as they shine , The russet leaves ...
Page 25
... morn , Black hurrying smoke in opake mass up - borne , O'er dinning engines hangs , a stifling shade— Yet nature lives e'en here , and will not part From her best home , the lowly - loving heart . E SONNET XXVI . CONTINUED . ' Tis ...
... morn , Black hurrying smoke in opake mass up - borne , O'er dinning engines hangs , a stifling shade— Yet nature lives e'en here , and will not part From her best home , the lowly - loving heart . E SONNET XXVI . CONTINUED . ' Tis ...
Page 31
... morn , nor evening calm : For morn nor eve can change that fiery gloom That glares within the spirit's living tomb . SONNET XXXII . FROM PETRARCA . " Solo e pensoso 31.
... morn , nor evening calm : For morn nor eve can change that fiery gloom That glares within the spirit's living tomb . SONNET XXXII . FROM PETRARCA . " Solo e pensoso 31.
Page 54
... morn , for each to sing his song . The year departs , a blessing on its head , We mourn not for it , for it is not dead : Dead ? What is that ? A word to joy unknown , Which love abhors , and faith will never own . A word , whose ...
... morn , for each to sing his song . The year departs , a blessing on its head , We mourn not for it , for it is not dead : Dead ? What is that ? A word to joy unknown , Which love abhors , and faith will never own . A word , whose ...
Page 63
... morning told to her , With comments manifold ; and when seven years Made him a student of learn'd Lilly's page , With simple , earnest , kindly vanity , He fill'd her wondering ear with all his lore Of tense , and conjugation , noun ...
... morning told to her , With comments manifold ; and when seven years Made him a student of learn'd Lilly's page , With simple , earnest , kindly vanity , He fill'd her wondering ear with all his lore Of tense , and conjugation , noun ...
Common terms and phrases
babe beauty beneath birds blessing bliss bower breeze bright calm child dark day-dawn dear despair doom'd dream e'en e'er earth eyes fain fair Fairy faith fancies fate father fear feel flower gleams grave grey grief happy HARTLEY COLERIDGE HARVARD COLLEGE hath heard heart heaven holy hope hope and fear human Leonard live lonely maid merry mirth mortal mother Mother's smile mourn murmur nature Nature's Nautilus ne'er never New-Year's day nought o'er passion peace Poet poor pride pure quit-rent rill S. T. COLERIDGE scorn Shakspeare shew shining sigh silent sing sire sleep smooth soft song SONNET Sonnet 19 Sonnet 20 sorrow soul spirit Susan sweet thee thine thou art thought Trophonius truth twas Vale of Tempe verse virgin voice wave ween weep Whate'er wild wind worldly young Passion 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.