The poetical and dramatic works of Samuel Taylor ColeridgeC. Daly, 1838 - 464 Seiten |
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Seite iv
... thro ' the Night ! " .... VIII . To the Author of The Robbers .. IX . Composed on a Journey homeward ; the Author having received intelligence of the birth of a Son X. To a Friend , who asked how I felt when the Nurse first presented my ...
... thro ' the Night ! " .... VIII . To the Author of The Robbers .. IX . Composed on a Journey homeward ; the Author having received intelligence of the birth of a Son X. To a Friend , who asked how I felt when the Nurse first presented my ...
Seite 6
... thro ' nether seas upthund'ring Soothes her fierce solitude ; yet , as she lies 1 By livid fount , or roar of blazing stream , If ever to her lidless dragon - eyes , O Albion ! thy predestin'd ruins rise , * The Poet from having ...
... thro ' nether seas upthund'ring Soothes her fierce solitude ; yet , as she lies 1 By livid fount , or roar of blazing stream , If ever to her lidless dragon - eyes , O Albion ! thy predestin'd ruins rise , * The Poet from having ...
Seite 8
... thro ' the tear , that glistens in mine eye ! Is this the land of song - ennobled line ? Is this the land , where Genius ne'er in vain Pour'd forth his lofty strain ? Ah me ! yet Spenser , gentlest bard divine , Beneath chill ...
... thro ' the tear , that glistens in mine eye ! Is this the land of song - ennobled line ? Is this the land , where Genius ne'er in vain Pour'd forth his lofty strain ? Ah me ! yet Spenser , gentlest bard divine , Beneath chill ...
Seite 10
... thro ' every freezing vein ! Ye woods ! that wave o'er Avon's rocky steep , To Fancy's ear sweet is your murm'ring deep ! For here she loves the cypress wreath to weave ; Watching , with wistful eye , the sad'ning tints of eve . Here ...
... thro ' every freezing vein ! Ye woods ! that wave o'er Avon's rocky steep , To Fancy's ear sweet is your murm'ring deep ! For here she loves the cypress wreath to weave ; Watching , with wistful eye , the sad'ning tints of eve . Here ...
Seite 14
... thro ' the mystic ringlets of the vale We flash our fairy feet in gamesome prank ; Or , silent - sandal'd , pay our defter court Circling the Spirit of the Western Gale , Where , wearied with his flower - caressing sport , Supine he ...
... thro ' the mystic ringlets of the vale We flash our fairy feet in gamesome prank ; Or , silent - sandal'd , pay our defter court Circling the Spirit of the Western Gale , Where , wearied with his flower - caressing sport , Supine he ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
anguish arms army beneath breast Butler Coleridge command Coun Countess Cuirassiers dear deed Derwent Coleridge destiny dost doth dream Duch Duchess Duke earth Egra Emperor enemy enter evil Exit faithful father fear feelings fortune Friedland give hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hither holy honour hope hour Illo Isolani leave light look Lord Macd Maradas meek mother ne'er Nether Stowey Neub never night noble o'er Octavio Piccolomini once pause peace Pilsen poems poet Prague Ques Questenberg Regensburg regiments round S. T. COLERIDGE Sara Coleridge SCENE silent SONNET soul spirit stand stars Swedes sweet sword tears tell thee Thek Thekla thine thing thou hast thought thro thyself trust Twas voice Wallenstein whole wild wish word Wran Мах
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 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.
Seite 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...
Seite 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.
Seite 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.
Seite 86 - With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled. "And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold: And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald.
Seite 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.
Seite 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...
Seite 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.
Seite 95 - My lips were wet. my throat was cold, My garments all were dank: Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank. " I moved and could not feel my limbs ; I was so light, almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost. "And soon I heard a roaring wind, It did not come anear ; But with its sound it shook the sails That were so thin and sere.
Seite 85 - The wedding-guest he beat his breast, Yet he cannot choose but hear ! And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner.