The poetical works of S.T. Coleridge, Band 1 |
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Seite 8
... Wings grow within him ; and he soars above Or Bard's or Minstrel's lay of war or love . Friend to the friendless , to the Sufferer health , He hears the widow's prayer , the good man's praise ; To scenes of bliss transmutes his fancied ...
... Wings grow within him ; and he soars above Or Bard's or Minstrel's lay of war or love . Friend to the friendless , to the Sufferer health , He hears the widow's prayer , the good man's praise ; To scenes of bliss transmutes his fancied ...
Seite 11
... wing , Have blackened the fair promise of my spring ; And the stern Fate transpierced with viewless dart The last pale Hope that shivered at my heart ! Hence , gloomy thoughts ! no more my soul shall dwell On joys that were ! No more ...
... wing , Have blackened the fair promise of my spring ; And the stern Fate transpierced with viewless dart The last pale Hope that shivered at my heart ! Hence , gloomy thoughts ! no more my soul shall dwell On joys that were ! No more ...
Seite 18
... wings : Many Summers , many Winters- I can't tell half his adventures . At length he came back , and with him a She , And the acorn was grown to a tall oak tree . They built them a nest in the topmost bough , And young ones they had ...
... wings : Many Summers , many Winters- I can't tell half his adventures . At length he came back , and with him a She , And the acorn was grown to a tall oak tree . They built them a nest in the topmost bough , And young ones they had ...
Seite 20
... wing their distant flight . Such power inspires thy holy son Sable clerk of Tiverton . And oft where Otter sports his stream , I hear thy banded offspring scream . Thou Goddess ! thou inspir'st each throat ; ' Tis thou who pour'st the ...
... wing their distant flight . Such power inspires thy holy son Sable clerk of Tiverton . And oft where Otter sports his stream , I hear thy banded offspring scream . Thou Goddess ! thou inspir'st each throat ; ' Tis thou who pour'st the ...
Seite 21
... wings ! 1790 . DEVONSHIRE ROADS . THE indignant Bard compos'd this furious ode , As tir'd he dragg'd his way thro ' Plimtree road ! Crusted with filth and stuck in mire Dull sounds the Bard's bemudded lyre ; Nathless Revenge and Ire the ...
... wings ! 1790 . DEVONSHIRE ROADS . THE indignant Bard compos'd this furious ode , As tir'd he dragg'd his way thro ' Plimtree road ! Crusted with filth and stuck in mire Dull sounds the Bard's bemudded lyre ; Nathless Revenge and Ire the ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
ALEXANDER DYCE amid anguish arms Atheism babe behold beneath blessed blest bower breast breath breeze bright calm charms cheek child clouds dance dark dart dear death deep dream Earl Henry earth Faery Queen fair fancy fear feel flowers gale gaze gentle gleam groans haply hath hear heard heart heave Heaven holy Hope hour hues infant Jeremy Taylor JOHN MITFORD KUBLA KHAN Lewti Life's light limbs Love lyre Maid meek melancholy Milton mind MONODY moon mossy mother murmur Muse Nature ne'er night o'er pain pale pang PATRICK SPENCE Peace Pixies pleasure POEMS prayer round S. T. COLERIDGE sigh silent sing Slau sleep smile soft song SONNET soothe sorrow soul sound spirit stars stept stream sweet swell tears thee thine thou thought throne toil trembling twas vale voice weep wild wind wing youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 268 - Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail: And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean: And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war!
Seite 184 - Arve and Arveiron at thy base 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...
Seite 184 - Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it, Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my Thought, Yea, with my Life and Life's own secret joy: Till the dilating Soul, enrapt, transfused, Into the mighty vision passing — there As in her natural form, swelled vast to Heaven!
Seite 240 - ... small thoughts have I of sleep ; Full seldom may my friend such vigils keep ! Visit her, gentle Sleep ! with wings of healing, And may this storm be but a mountain-birth, May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling, Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth ! With light heart may she rise, Gay fancy, cheerful eyes, Joy lift her spirit, joy attune her voice ; To her may all things live, from pole to pole, Their life the eddying of her living soul ! O simple spirit, guided from above,...
Seite 111 - And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held: 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?
Seite 238 - Joy, Lady! is the spirit and the power, Which wedding Nature to us gives in dower, A new Earth and new Heaven, Undreamt of by the sensual and the proud — Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud — We in ourselves rejoice! And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight, All melodies the echoes of that voice, All colours a suffusion from that light.
Seite 235 - WELL ! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence, This night, so tranquil now, will not go hence Unroused by winds, that ply a busier trade Than those which mould yon cloud in lazy flakes, Or the dull sobbing draft, that moans and rakes Upon the strings of this Eolian lute, Which better far were mute.
Seite 146 - She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew I could not choose But gaze upon her face.
Seite 147 - And saved from outrage worse than death The lady of the land ! And how she wept and...
Seite 145 - J3eside the ruin'd tower. The moonshine stealing o'er the scene Had blended with the lights of eve ; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear...