The Poems of S.T. Coleridge
William Pickering, 1848 - 372 pages
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arms beautiful beneath breast breath bright cheek child close cloud dark dear death deep dream earth face fair fancy father fear feel flowers gaze gentle give green groan hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven hill holy hope hour lady leave light LINES listen living look Lord loud maid meet mind moon morn mother moved Nature never night o'er once pain passed Peace pleasure poem poor rest rise rock rose round seemed Shape ship sigh sight silent sing sleep smile soft song soon soothe soul sound spirit stars stood strange stream sweet swell tale tears tell thee thine things thou thought tree turned voice wild wind wing wood young youth
Page 111 - 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.
Page 235 - 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!
Page 234 - The loud wind never reached the ship, Yet now the ship moved on! Beneath the lightning and the Moon The dead men gave a groan. They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise. The helmsman...
Page 190 - But now afflictions bow me down to earth : Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth, But oh ! each visitation Suspends what nature gave me at my birth, My shaping spirit of Imagination.
Page 144 - Awake, Voice of sweet song ! Awake, my Heart, awake! Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my Hymn. Thou first and chief, sole sovran of the Vale ! () struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars...
Page 159 - Friends, whom I never more may meet again, On springy heath, along the hill-top edge, Wander in gladness, and wind down, perchance, To that still roaring dell, of which I told; The roaring dell, o'erwooded, narrow, deep, And only speckled by the mid-day sun...
Page 227 - There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. A weary time! a weary time! How glazed each weary eye, When looking westward, I beheld A something in the sky. "At first it seemed a little speck, And then it seemed a mist; It moved and moved, and took at last A certain shape, I wist.
Page 225 - 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 232 - O happy living things! no tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gushed from my heart, And I blessed them unaware: Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I blessed them unaware. "The selfsame moment I could pray; And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea.
Page 231 - The cold sweat melted from their limbs. Nor rot nor reek did they: The look with which they looked on me Had never passed away. An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high; But oh! more horrible than that Is a curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse. And yet I could not die.