The poetical and dramatic works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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John Chidley, 1838 - 403 страници
 

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Страница 94 - 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. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.
Страница 106 - Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company \~ To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay...
Страница 88 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
Страница 97 - Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the sky-lark sing; sometimes all little birds that are, how they seemed to fill the sea and air with their sweet jargoning! And now 'twas like all instruments, now like a lonely flute; and now it is an angel's song, that makes the heavens be mute.
Страница 86 - 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. "And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold: And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald.
Страница li - tis Death itself there dies. EPITAPH. STOP, Christian Passer-by — Stop, child of God, And read with gentle breast. Beneath this sod A poet lies, or that which once seem'd he — O lift one thought in prayer for STC ; That he who many a year with toil of breath Found death in life, may here find life in death ! Mercy for praise — to be forgiven for fame He ask'd, and hoped, through Christ. Do thou the same ! AN ODE TO THE RAIN.
Страница 78 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Страница 101 - It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring — It mingled strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming. Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze — On me alone it blew.
Страница 95 - My lips were wet. my throat was cold, My garments all were dank: Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank. " I moved and could not feel my limbs ; I was so light, almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost. "And soon I heard a roaring wind, It did not come anear ; But with its sound it shook the sails That were so thin and sere.
Страница 85 - The wedding-guest he beat his breast, Yet he cannot choose but hear ! And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner.

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