The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor ColeridgeD. Appleton, 1857 - 388 psl. |
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9 psl.
... wild - bees hum their drowsy song , By Indolence and Fancy brought , A youthful Bard , " unknown to Fame , " Wooes the Queen of Solemn Thought , And heaves the gentle misery of a sigh Gazing with tearful eye , As round our sandy grot ...
... wild - bees hum their drowsy song , By Indolence and Fancy brought , A youthful Bard , " unknown to Fame , " Wooes the Queen of Solemn Thought , And heaves the gentle misery of a sigh Gazing with tearful eye , As round our sandy grot ...
17 psl.
... Wild Fancy , check thy wing ! No more Those thin white flakes , those purple clouds explore ! Nor there with happy spirits speed thy flight Bathed in rich amber - glowing floods of light ; Nor in yon gleam , where slow descends the day ...
... Wild Fancy , check thy wing ! No more Those thin white flakes , those purple clouds explore ! Nor there with happy spirits speed thy flight Bathed in rich amber - glowing floods of light ; Nor in yon gleam , where slow descends the day ...
21 psl.
... small - pox , and is buried in Rotherhithe church - yard . See Keate's Account . + Southey's Retrospect Then Exultation waked the patriot fire And swept with wild TO A YOUNG LADY, WITH A POEM ON THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.
... small - pox , and is buried in Rotherhithe church - yard . See Keate's Account . + Southey's Retrospect Then Exultation waked the patriot fire And swept with wild TO A YOUNG LADY, WITH A POEM ON THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.
22 psl.
... wild hand the Tyrtaan lyre : Red from the Tyrant's wound I shook the lance , And strode in joy the reeking plains of France ! Fallen is the oppressor , friendless , ghastly , low , And my heart aches , though Mercy struck the blow ...
... wild hand the Tyrtaan lyre : Red from the Tyrant's wound I shook the lance , And strode in joy the reeking plains of France ! Fallen is the oppressor , friendless , ghastly , low , And my heart aches , though Mercy struck the blow ...
36 psl.
... wild gleams that lightened o'er thy face ? Youth of tumultuous soul , and haggard eye ! Thy wasted form , thy hurried steps I view , On thy wan forehead starts the lethal dew , And oh ! the anguish of that shuddering sigh ! Such were ...
... wild gleams that lightened o'er thy face ? Youth of tumultuous soul , and haggard eye ! Thy wasted form , thy hurried steps I view , On thy wan forehead starts the lethal dew , And oh ! the anguish of that shuddering sigh ! Such were ...
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The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. With Life of the Author Samuel Taylor Coleridge Trumpų ištraukų rodinys - 1837 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
amaranth ancient Mariner arms babe Bard beloved beneath 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 Heaven HENDECASYLLABLES HEXAMETER holy hope hour Jeremy Taylor John Anderson Kubla Khan lady light limbs look Lord loud Love Love's maid mind Monody moon mother murmur Muse ne'er Nether Stowey night o'er pain Pixies poem poet rock Roland de Vaux rose round Rudesheimer S. T. Coleridge shadow SHURTON sigh silent sing Sir Leoline sleep smile soft song SONNET soothe soul sound spirit stars stood strange stream sweet swell tale tears thee thine things thou thought tree twas voice ween wild William Wordsworth wind wing youth
Populiarios ištraukos
96 psl. - The sun now rose upon the right : Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the...
107 psl. - Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the Sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one. 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.
108 psl. - 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.
144 psl. - 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.
112 psl. - The harbour-bay was clear as glass So smoothly it was strewn ! And on the bay the moonlight lay And the shadow of the Moon. 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 colors came.
254 psl. - 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...
94 psl. - Yet he cannot choose but hear ! And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner.
104 psl. - 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.
96 psl. - And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariners' hollo! "In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, It perched for vespers nine; Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, Glimmered the white moon-shine.
284 psl. - There was a time when, though my path was rough, This joy within me dallied with distress, And all misfortunes were but as the stuff Whence Fancy made me dreams of happiness : For Hope grew round me, like the twining vine, And fruits, and foliage, not my own, seemed mine.