The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor ColeridgeD. Appleton, 1857 - 388 sider |
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Side 4
... hill , over dale , did the black Raven go . Many Autumns , many Springs Travelled he with wandering wings : Many Summers , many Winters- I can't tell half his adventures . At length he came back , and with him a THE RAVEN . THE RAVEN A ...
... hill , over dale , did the black Raven go . Many Autumns , many Springs Travelled he with wandering wings : Many Summers , many Winters- I can't tell half his adventures . At length he came back , and with him a THE RAVEN . THE RAVEN A ...
Side 8
... hill , is an excavation called the Pixies ' Parlour . The roots of old trees form its ceiling ; and on its sides are innumerable cyphers , among which the Author discovered his own , and those of his brothers , cut by the hand of their ...
... hill , is an excavation called the Pixies ' Parlour . The roots of old trees form its ceiling ; and on its sides are innumerable cyphers , among which the Author discovered his own , and those of his brothers , cut by the hand of their ...
Side 20
... hill , dale , and sparkling brook between ! Yet sweet to Fancy's ear the warbled song , That soars on Morning's wing your vales among ! Scenes of my Hope ! the aching eye ye leave Like yon bright hues that paint the clouds of eve ...
... hill , dale , and sparkling brook between ! Yet sweet to Fancy's ear the warbled song , That soars on Morning's wing your vales among ! Scenes of my Hope ! the aching eye ye leave Like yon bright hues that paint the clouds of eve ...
Side 39
... hill , whose forest - frowning side Waves o'er the murmurs of his calmer tide , Will raise a solemn Cenotaph to thee , Sweet Harper of time - shrouded Minstrelsy ! And there , soothed sadly by the dirgeful wind , Muse on the sore ills I ...
... hill , whose forest - frowning side Waves o'er the murmurs of his calmer tide , Will raise a solemn Cenotaph to thee , Sweet Harper of time - shrouded Minstrelsy ! And there , soothed sadly by the dirgeful wind , Muse on the sore ills I ...
Side 53
... hill ; Nor there the Pine - grove to the midnight blast Makes solemn music ! But the unceasing rill To the soft Wren or Lark's descending trill Murmurs sweet under - song mid jasmine bowers . In this same pleasant meadow , at your will ...
... hill ; Nor there the Pine - grove to the midnight blast Makes solemn music ! But the unceasing rill To the soft Wren or Lark's descending trill Murmurs sweet under - song mid jasmine bowers . In this same pleasant meadow , at your will ...
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The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Edited with a Biographical ... Samuel Taylor Coleridge Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2017 |
Almindelige termer og sætninger
amaranth ancient Mariner arms babe Bard beloved beneath bird blest bower breast breath breeze bright bright eyes brow Cain calm cheek child Christabel clouds Coleridge dark dear death deep doth dream earth fair fancy father fear feel flowers gaze gentle Geraldine green groan haply hath hear heard heart heaved Heaven HENDECASYLLABLES HEXAMETER holy Hope hour Jeremy Taylor Kubla Khan lady light limbs look Lord loud Love maid meek mind Monody Moon mother murmur muse ne'er Nether Stowey night o'er pain Pixies poem poet rock Roland de Vaux rose round S. T. Coleridge shadow SHURTON sigh silent sing Sir Leoline sleep smile soft song SONNET soothe soul sound spake spirit stars stept stood stream sweet swell tale tears thee thine things thou thought tree twas voice ween wild William Wordsworth wind wing youth
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Side 108 - twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song 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.
Side 116 - 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.
Side 144 - In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.
Side 199 - Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve.
Side 254 - 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 alone. Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, — So sweet we know not we are listening to it...
Side 254 - O, struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink...
Side 112 - The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, That stands above the rock: The moonlight steeped in silentness The steady weathercock. And the bay was white with silent light, Till rising from the same, Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colours came.
Side 94 - He holds him with his glittering eye — The wedding-guest stood still, And listens like a three-years' child : The Mariner hath his will. The wedding-guest sat on a stone : He cannot choose but hear ; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner : ' The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the lighthouse top. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon ' — The wedding-guest here beat his breast, For he heard...
Side 115 - Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. "Ha! ha!" quoth he, "full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row." And now, all in my own countree, I stood on the firm land! The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, And scarcely he could stand. "O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!" The Hermit crossed his brow. "Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say— What manner of man art thou?
Side 284 - To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah ! from the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud, Enveloping the Earth — And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element...