The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor ColeridgeD. Appleton, 1857 - 388 páginas |
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Página 7
... Hours on rapid Pinions flown Shall yet return , by Absence crowned , And scatter livelier roses round . The Sun who ne'er remits his fires On heedless eyes may pour the day : The Moon , that oft from Heaven retires , Endears her ...
... Hours on rapid Pinions flown Shall yet return , by Absence crowned , And scatter livelier roses round . The Sun who ne'er remits his fires On heedless eyes may pour the day : The Moon , that oft from Heaven retires , Endears her ...
Página 10
... hour , Along our wildly - bowered sequestered walk , We listen to the enamoured rustic's talk ; Heave with the heavings of the maiden's breast , Where young - eyed Loves have hid their turtle nest ; Or guide of soul - subduing power The ...
... hour , Along our wildly - bowered sequestered walk , We listen to the enamoured rustic's talk ; Heave with the heavings of the maiden's breast , Where young - eyed Loves have hid their turtle nest ; Or guide of soul - subduing power The ...
Página 11
... hours , that round thee stand With down - cast eyes ( a duteous band ) ! Their dark robes dripping with the heavy dew . Sorceress of the ebon throne ! Thy power the Pixies own , When round thy raven brow Heaven's lucent roses glow , And ...
... hours , that round thee stand With down - cast eyes ( a duteous band ) ! Their dark robes dripping with the heavy dew . Sorceress of the ebon throne ! Thy power the Pixies own , When round thy raven brow Heaven's lucent roses glow , And ...
Página 15
... hour beguiled , And all the lovely Prospect smiled ; Then Mary ! ' mid my lightsome glee I heaved the painless Sigh for thee . And when , along the waves of woe , My harassed Heart was doomed to know The frantic burst of Outrage keen ...
... hour beguiled , And all the lovely Prospect smiled ; Then Mary ! ' mid my lightsome glee I heaved the painless Sigh for thee . And when , along the waves of woe , My harassed Heart was doomed to know The frantic burst of Outrage keen ...
Página 16
... hours , With one fresh garland of Pierian flowers , ( Ere from thy zephyr - haunted brink I turn , ) My languid hand shall wreathe thy mossy urn . For not through pathless grove with murmur rude Thou soothest the sad wood - nymph ...
... hours , With one fresh garland of Pierian flowers , ( Ere from thy zephyr - haunted brink I turn , ) My languid hand shall wreathe thy mossy urn . For not through pathless grove with murmur rude Thou soothest the sad wood - nymph ...
Outras edições - Ver tudo
The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. With Life of the Author Samuel Taylor Coleridge Visualização de excertos - 1837 |
The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Edited with a Biographical ... Samuel Taylor Coleridge Pré-visualização indisponível - 2017 |
The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Samuel Taylor Coleridge Pré-visualização indisponível - 2015 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
amaranth ancient Mariner arms babe Bard beloved beneath bird blest bower breast breath breeze bright bright eyes brow Cain calm cheek child Christabel clouds Coleridge dark dear death deep doth dream earth fair fancy father fear feel flowers gaze gentle Geraldine green groan haply hath hear heard heart heaved Heaven HENDECASYLLABLES HEXAMETER holy Hope hour Jeremy Taylor Kubla Khan lady light limbs look Lord loud Love maid meek mind Monody Moon mother murmur muse ne'er Nether Stowey night o'er pain Pixies poem poet rock Roland de Vaux rose round S. T. Coleridge shadow SHURTON sigh silent sing Sir Leoline sleep smile soft song SONNET soothe soul sound spake spirit stars stept stood stream sweet swell tale tears thee thine things thou thought tree twas voice ween wild William Wordsworth wind wing youth
Passagens conhecidas
Página 108 - twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song That makes the heavens be mute. " It ceased"; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Página 116 - I pass, like night, from land to land ; I have strange power of speech ; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me : • To him my tale I teach.
Página 144 - In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.
Página 199 - Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve.
Página 254 - 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 1 worshipped the invisible alone. Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, — So sweet we know not we are listening to it...
Página 254 - O, struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink...
Página 112 - The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, That stands above the rock: The moonlight steeped in silentness The steady weathercock. And the bay was white with silent light, Till rising from the same, Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colours came.
Página 94 - He holds him with his glittering eye — The wedding-guest stood still, And listens like a three-years' child : The Mariner hath his will. The wedding-guest sat on a stone : He cannot choose but hear ; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner : ' The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the lighthouse top. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon ' — The wedding-guest here beat his breast, For he heard...
Página 115 - Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. "Ha! ha!" quoth he, "full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row." And now, all in my own countree, I stood on the firm land! The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, And scarcely he could stand. "O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!" The Hermit crossed his brow. "Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say— What manner of man art thou?
Página 284 - To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah ! from the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud, Enveloping the Earth — And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element...