The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor ColeridgeMacmillan, 1898 - 667 pagina's |
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Pagina xxix
... dear , And dearer was the mother for the child . The father having at this period a great dislike for all sacramental rites , 3 the son was not baptized , but he was named ' David Hartley , ' in honour of the wisest of mortal kind ...
... dear , And dearer was the mother for the child . The father having at this period a great dislike for all sacramental rites , 3 the son was not baptized , but he was named ' David Hartley , ' in honour of the wisest of mortal kind ...
Pagina lxv
... dear brother Jim , ' so unceremoniously dis- missed from ' We are seven , ' I know not ; but , I be- lieve , the former . See Wordsworth's Mem . i . 109 . 1 See p . 521 . 2 Preface to Memorials of Coleorton , i . xii . See also ...
... dear brother Jim , ' so unceremoniously dis- missed from ' We are seven , ' I know not ; but , I be- lieve , the former . See Wordsworth's Mem . i . 109 . 1 See p . 521 . 2 Preface to Memorials of Coleorton , i . xii . See also ...
Pagina cv
... dear sir , is a mistake to which affectionate natures are too liable , —the mistaking those who are desirous and well pleased to be loved by you , for those who love you . ' He doubts if the open abuse of himself in the Edinburgh is ...
... dear sir , is a mistake to which affectionate natures are too liable , —the mistaking those who are desirous and well pleased to be loved by you , for those who love you . ' He doubts if the open abuse of himself in the Edinburgh is ...
Pagina cvi
... dear Mahomet , we will come to you on 3rd January 1819. Shall we be able to catch a skirt 1 of the old out - goer ? ' If all the lectures promised in the prospectus were given , the delivery must have been carried into the beginning of ...
... dear Mahomet , we will come to you on 3rd January 1819. Shall we be able to catch a skirt 1 of the old out - goer ? ' If all the lectures promised in the prospectus were given , the delivery must have been carried into the beginning of ...
Pagina cxviii
... dear fine silly old angel , ' Fuller , returned a month later , with a promise to spend the first fine day at the Grove , trusting to the Gate - House for beds . Four or five months later Lamb reports of Coleridge that he has had some ...
... dear fine silly old angel , ' Fuller , returned a month later , with a promise to spend the first fine day at the Grove , trusting to the Gate - House for beds . Four or five months later Lamb reports of Coleridge that he has had some ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Albert Alfoxden Alhadra Alvar arms Bathory beneath Bethlen Biog breast Bristol brother Butler Casimir child Christ's Hospital Christabel Coleorton Coleridge's Cottle Countess dark dear death doth Dove Cottage dream Duke edition Emerick Estlin fancy father fear feel Glycine Grasmere Greta Hall hand hast hath hear heard heart Heaven honour hope Illo Isidore Isolani Josiah Wedgwood lady Lake Poets Lamb Laska lectures letter lines live look Lord Lyrical Ballads mind Monody Morning Post mother never night Note o'er Octavio Ordonio Osorio Pantisocracy Piccolomini poem poet Poole printed Questenberg Raab Kiuprili Robespierre round S. T. Coleridge Sarolta SCENE sleep song Sonnet soul Southey spirit stanza Stowey Stuart sweet tears tell Teresa Tertsky thee Thekla thine things thou thought tion Twas Valdez Velez verses voice Wallenstein Wedgwood words Wordsworth write written wrote Zapolya
Populaire passages
Pagina 583 - And they cried with a loud voice, saying, How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth...
Pagina 96 - 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.
Pagina 133 - 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.
Pagina 518 - O sweeter than the marriage-feast, '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!
Pagina 164 - Rave ceaselessly ; but thou, most awful Form ! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, 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...
Pagina 101 - 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 steered, the ship moved on ; Yet never a breeze...
Pagina 95 - The Sun now rose upon the right Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day, for food or play, Came to the mariners...
Pagina 107 - 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.
Pagina 99 - A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet.
Pagina 92 - Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair, Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.