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ancient appeared arms beautiful beneath bird breast breath bright child Christabel Church close cloud Coleridge dark dead dear death deep Devil dream earth epigram eyes face fair fancy fear feel flowers gazed gentle green half hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven hope hour lady leave less light lines live look Lord loud maid mind moon Morning Post mother Nature never night Note o'er once pain poem poet poor present Printed rest rose round ship sight silent sing sleep smile song soon soul sound spirit stanza stars stood strong sweet tale tears tell thee thine thing thou thought tree true truth voice whole wild wind wish written youth
Сторінка 81 - Alas ! they had been friends in youth ; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny; and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain.
Сторінка 47 - 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. Till noon we quietly sailed on, Yet never a breeze did breathe: Slowly and smoothly went the ship, Moved onward from beneath.
Сторінка 277 - 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.
Сторінка 43 - The self-same moment I could pray; And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea. PART V Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole ! To Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, That slid into my soul.
Сторінка 28 - The Sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon — " The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon.
Сторінка 66 - There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Сторінка 29 - And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. 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...
Сторінка 219 - Life and life's effluence, cloud at once and shower, 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.
Сторінка 218 - On that green light that lingers in the west: I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
Сторінка 219 - My shaping spirit of Imagination. For not to think of what I needs must feel, But to be still and patient, all I can; And haply by abstruse research to steal From my own nature all the natural man — This was my sole resource, my only plan: Till that which suits a part infects the whole, And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.