Specimens of the Table Talk of the Late Samuel Taylor Coleridge ...

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Harper & Brothers, 1835

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94 psl. - And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live ? And I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest.
37 psl. - The Sensual and the Dark rebel in vain, Slaves by their own compulsion ! In mad game They burst their manacles and wear the name Of Freedom, graven on a heavier chain...
73 psl. - In Shakespeare's poems the creative power and the intellectual energy wrestle as in a war embrace. Each in its excess of strength seems to threaten the extinction of the other. At length in the DRAMA they were reconciled, and fought each with its shield before the breast of the other.
38 psl. - Have I pursued thee, many a weary hour; But thou nor swell'st the victor's strain, nor ever Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human power. Alike from all, howe'er they praise thee, (Nor prayer, nor boastful name delays thee) Alike from Priestcraft's harpy minions, And factious Blasphemy's obscener slaves, Thou speedest on thy subtle pinions, The guide of homeless winds, and play-mate of the waves!
42 psl. - The tawny lion, pawing to get free His hinder parts ; then springs, as broke from bonds, And rampant shakes his brinded mane...
148 psl. - The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers. Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry " Hold, hold !
9 psl. - If men could learn from history, what lessons it might teach us ! But passion and party blind our eyes, and the light which experience gives is a lantern on the stern, which shines only on the waves behind us ! DECEMBER 27, 1831.
165 psl. - By four cherubic Shapes. Four faces each Had wondrous ; as with stars, their bodies all And wings were set with eyes; with eyes the wheels Of beryl, and careering fires between ; Over their heads a crystal firmament.
115 psl. - HEAR, O heavens, and give ear, O earth: For the Lord hath spoken, I have nourished and brought up children, And they have rebelled against me. The ox knoweth his owner, And the ass his master's crib: But Israel doth not know, My people doth not consider.
37 psl. - I think Wordsworth possessed more of the genius of a great philosophic poet than any man I ever knew, or, as I believe, has existed in England since Milton; but it seems to me that he ought never to have abandoned the contemplative position, which is peculiarly, perhaps I might say exclusively, fitted for him His proper title is, Spectator ab extra.

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