Recollections Of Love (Samuel Coleridge Poem)
I How warm this woodland wild Recess ! Love surely hath been breathing here ; And this sweet bed of ...
I How warm this woodland wild Recess ! Love surely hath been breathing here ; And this sweet bed of ...
In K?hln, a town of monks and bones, And pavements fang'd with murderous stones And rags, and hags, and hideous ...
Unchanged within, to see all changed without, Is a blank lot and hard to bear, no doubt. Yet why at ...
Like a lone Arab, old and blind, Some caravan had left behind, Who sits beside a ruin'd well, Where the ...
Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philomel! How many Bards in city garret pent, While at their window they with downward eye ...
Song (Act V, scene i) And this place our forefathers made for man ...
Notus in fratres animi paterni. Hor. Carm. lib.II.2. A bless?d lot hath he, who having passed His youth and early ...
Well, they are gone, and here must I remain, This lime-tree bower my prison! I have lost Beauties and feelings, ...
The butterfly the ancient Grecians made The soul's fair emblem, and its only name-- But of the soul, escaped the ...
Now as Heaven is my Lot, they're the Pests of the Nation! Wherever they can come With clankum and blankum ...
... Finally, what is Reason ? You have often asked me ; and this is my answer :-- Whene'er the ...
Friend of the Wise ! and Teacher of the Good ! Into my heart have I received that Lay More ...
On the wide level of a mountain's head, (I knew not where, but 'twas some faery place) Their pinions, ostrich-like, ...
All look and likeness caught from earth All accident of kin and birth, Had pass'd away. There was no trace ...
No cloud, no relique of the sunken day Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip Of sullen light, no obscure ...
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn? Where may the grave of that good man be?-- By the side ...
Water and windmills, greenness, Islets green;-- Willows whose Trunks beside the shadows stood Of their own higher half, and willowy ...
The body, Eternal Shadow of the finite Soul, The Soul's self-symbol, its image of itself. Its own yet not itself-- ...
If dead, we cease to be ; if total gloom Swallow up life's brief flash for aye, we fare As ...
If I had but two little wings And were a little feathery bird, To you I'd fly, my dear! But ...
Stop, Christian passer-by : Stop, child of God, And read, with gentle breast. Beneath this sod A poet lies, or ...
Dear native brook! wild streamlet of the West! How many various-fated years have passed, What happy and what mournful hours, ...
Ungrateful he, who pluck'd thee from thy stalk, Poor faded flow'ret! on his careless way; Inhal'd awhile thy odours on ...
The sole true Something--This ! In Limbo Den It frightens Ghosts as Ghosts here frighten men-- For skimming in the ...
My pensive SARA ! thy soft cheek reclined Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is To sit beside ...
Verse, a Breeze 'mid blossoms straying, Where HOPE clung feeding, like a bee-- Both were mine ! Life went a-maying ...
And in Life's noisiest hour, There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee, The heart's Self-solace and soliloquy. ______________________ You ...
From a letter from STC to Wordsworth after writing The Nightingale: In stale blank verse a subject stale I send ...
Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon, With the old Moon in her arms ; And I fear, I ...
All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his ...
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