The Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Prose and VerseCrissy & Markley, 1853 - 546 oldal |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 100 találatból.
viii. oldal
... fears self - will'd that shunn'd the eye of hope , And hope that scarce could know itself from fear ; Sense of past youth , and manhood come in vain , And genius given and knowledge won in vain , And all which I had cull'd in wood ...
... fears self - will'd that shunn'd the eye of hope , And hope that scarce could know itself from fear ; Sense of past youth , and manhood come in vain , And genius given and knowledge won in vain , And all which I had cull'd in wood ...
xix. oldal
... fears self - will'd that shunn'd the eye of hope , And hope that scarce could know itself from fear ; Sense of past youth , and manhood come in vain , And genius given and knowledge won in vain , And all which I had cull'd in wood ...
... fears self - will'd that shunn'd the eye of hope , And hope that scarce could know itself from fear ; Sense of past youth , and manhood come in vain , And genius given and knowledge won in vain , And all which I had cull'd in wood ...
2. oldal
... fear of snapping the flower . A third and heavier accusation has been brought against me , that of ob- scurity ; but not , I think , with equal justice . An Author is obscure , when his conceptions are dim and imperfect , and his ...
... fear of snapping the flower . A third and heavier accusation has been brought against me , that of ob- scurity ; but not , I think , with equal justice . An Author is obscure , when his conceptions are dim and imperfect , and his ...
7. oldal
... fears anticipate , Meek Child of Misery ! thy future fate ? The starving meal , and all the thousand aches " Which ... fear me that he lives like thee , Half famish'd in a land of luxury ! How askingly its footsteps hither bend ? It ...
... fears anticipate , Meek Child of Misery ! thy future fate ? The starving meal , and all the thousand aches " Which ... fear me that he lives like thee , Half famish'd in a land of luxury ! How askingly its footsteps hither bend ? It ...
8. oldal
... fear ! But if our fond hearts call to Pleasure's bower Some pigmy Folly in a careless hour , The faithless guest shall stamp the enchanted ground And mingled forms of Misery rise around : Heart - fretting Fear , with pallid look aghast ...
... fear ! But if our fond hearts call to Pleasure's bower Some pigmy Folly in a careless hour , The faithless guest shall stamp the enchanted ground And mingled forms of Misery rise around : Heart - fretting Fear , with pallid look aghast ...
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ALHADRA ALVAR arms beneath BETHLEN BILLAUD VARENNES blessed breast BUTLER CASIMIR clouds Coleridge COUNTESS dare dark dear doth dream DUCHESS Duke earth Egra Elbe EMERICK Emperor evil faith fancy father fear feelings gaze genius GLYCINE GORDON hand hast hath hear heard heart Heaven honor hope hour human ILLO Illyria ISIDORE ISOLANI Jacobins lady language LASKA light living look Lord Lyrical Ballads means metre mind moral mother nature Nether Stowey never night o'er object OCTAVIO OLD BATHORY once ORDONIO passion philosophical Piccolomini poem poet poetic poetry present principles QUESTENBERG RAAB KIUPRILI Ratzeburg reader reason ROBESPIERRE round SAROLTA SCENE seem'd sense song SONNET soul speak spirit sweet tale tears TERESA TERTSKY thee THEKLA thine things thou thought tion truth VALDEZ voice WALLENSTEIN whole wild words WRANGEL youth ZAPOLYA
Népszerű szakaszok
37. oldal - The moving Moon went up the sky, And no where did abide: Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside — Her beams bemocked the sultry main, Like April hoar-frost spread ; But where the ship's huge shadow lay, The charmed water burnt alway A still and awful red. Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes.
186. oldal - 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. 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 Genevieve!
22. oldal - All this long eve, so balmy and serene, Have I been gazing on the western sky, And its peculiar tint of yellow green: And still I gaze— and with how blank an eye!
38. oldal - Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross. • The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.
29. oldal - 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...
187. oldal - All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair — The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
12. oldal - And what if all of animated nature Be but organic harps diversely framed That tremble into thought, as o'er them sweeps, Plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze, At once the Soul of each, and God of all...
38. oldal - gan stir, With a short uneasy motion — Backwards and forwards half her length With a short uneasy motion. Then like a pawing horse let go, She made a sudden bound : It flung the blood into my head, And I fell down in a swound.
38. oldal - 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.
17. oldal - In the great city, pent mid cloisters dim, And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars. But thou, my babe, shalt wander like a breeze By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores And mountain crags : so shalt thou see and hear The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible Of that eternal language, which thy God Utters, who from eternity doth teach Himself in all, and all things in Himself.