The Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Prose and Verse: Complete in One Volume

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Thomas, Cowperthwait & Company, 1840 - 546 psl.
 

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72 psl. - The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.
70 psl. - And now the storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong : He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. 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.
331 psl. - Love had he found in huts where poor men lie; His daily teachers had been woods and rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
75 psl. - I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were "Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, That eats the she-wolf's young.
76 psl. - O sweeter than the marriage-feast, 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!
65 psl. - Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air...
46 psl. - 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...
74 psl. - Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high; The dead men stood together. All stood together on the deck, For a charnel-dungeon fitter: All fix'd on me their stony eyes, That in the Moon did glitter.
75 psl. - This seraph-band, each waved his hand: It was a heavenly sight! They stood as signals to the land, Each one a lovely light; This seraph-band, each waved his hand, No voice did they impart No voice; but oh! the silence sank Like music on my heart.
72 psl. - See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more! Hither to work us weal; Without a breeze, without a tide, She steadies with upright keel!

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