Sibylline Leaves: A Collection of Poems |
Результаты поиска по книге
Результаты 1 – 5 из 6
Стр. 93
What language Shakespear considered characteristic of malignant disposition ,
we see in the speech of the good - natural Gratiano , who spoke “ an infinite deal
of nothing more than any man in all Venice ; " “ Too wild , too rude and bold of ...
What language Shakespear considered characteristic of malignant disposition ,
we see in the speech of the good - natural Gratiano , who spoke “ an infinite deal
of nothing more than any man in all Venice ; " “ Too wild , too rude and bold of ...
Стр. 155
Tho ' Nature forc ' d ; tho ' like some captive guest , Some royal prisoner at his
conqueror ' s feast , An alien ' s restless mood but half concealing , The sternness
on his gentle brow confest Sickness within and miserable feeling : Tho ' obscure
...
Tho ' Nature forc ' d ; tho ' like some captive guest , Some royal prisoner at his
conqueror ' s feast , An alien ' s restless mood but half concealing , The sternness
on his gentle brow confest Sickness within and miserable feeling : Tho ' obscure
...
Стр. 192
Henceforth I shall know That Nature ne ' er deserts the wise and pure , No Plot so
narrow , be but Nature there , No waste so vacant , but may well employ . Each
faculty of sense , and keep the heart Awake to Love and Beauty ! and sometimes
...
Henceforth I shall know That Nature ne ' er deserts the wise and pure , No Plot so
narrow , be but Nature there , No waste so vacant , but may well employ . Each
faculty of sense , and keep the heart Awake to Love and Beauty ! and sometimes
...
Стр. 205
In nature there is nothing melancholy . But some night - wandering man , whose
heart was pierced With the remembrance of a grievous wrong , Or slow distemper
, or neglected love , ( And so poor Wretch ! fill ' d all things with himself And ...
In nature there is nothing melancholy . But some night - wandering man , whose
heart was pierced With the remembrance of a grievous wrong , Or slow distemper
, or neglected love , ( And so poor Wretch ! fill ' d all things with himself And ...
Стр. 241
... rob me of my mirth , But oh ! each visitation Suspends what nature gave me at
my birth , My shaping spirit of Imagination . ... But to be still and patient , all I can ;
And haply by abstruse research to steal From my own nature all the natural Man
...
... rob me of my mirth , But oh ! each visitation Suspends what nature gave me at
my birth , My shaping spirit of Imagination . ... But to be still and patient , all I can ;
And haply by abstruse research to steal From my own nature all the natural Man
...
Отзывы - Написать отзыв
Не удалось найти ни одного отзыва.
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
Sibylline Leaves: A Collection of Poems (Classic Reprint) Samuel Taylor Coleridge Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
ancient arms Author beautiful beneath bird blessed blue breath breeze bright calm child close cloud dark dead dear Death deep dream Earth face fair Father fear feelings Friend gazed gentle green groan half hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven hill hope hour leaves light limbs living look loud Maid Mariner Milton mind Moon morn Mother moved Nature never night o'er once pain Peace pleasure Poem poor present Price Rain rest rise rock rose round scarcely ship silent sing sleep soft song soon soul sound spirit stars stood strain strange stream sweet tale tears tell thee things thou thought truth twas voice wild wind wings wood youth
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 38 - I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach.
Стр. 37 - Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. "Ha! ha!" quoth he, "full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row." And now, all in my own countree, I stood on the firm land! The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, And scarcely he could stand. "O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!" The Hermit crossed his brow. "Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say What manner of man art thou?
Стр. 27 - 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.
Стр. 10 - 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.
Стр. 22 - 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.
Стр. 35 - Strange, by my faith!" the Hermit said — "And they answered not our cheer! The planks looked warped! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere! 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-wolfs young." "Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look — (The Pilot made reply) I am a-feared
Стр. 23 - The Moon was at its edge. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The Moon was at its side: Like waters shot" from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a jag, A river steep and wide.
Стр. 21 - Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole ! To Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, That slid into my soul.
Стр. 164 - Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet?— God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!
Стр. 30 - Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head ; Because he knows, a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread.
Библиографические данные
| Название | Sibylline Leaves: A Collection of Poems Sibylline Leaves:: A Collection of Poems, Samuel Taylor Coleridge |
| Автор | Samuel Taylor Coleridge |
| Издатель | Rest Fenner, 1817 |
| Владелец оригинала: | Оксфордский университет |
| Оцифровано | 2 авг 2007 |
| Количество страниц | Всего страниц: 303 |
| Экспорт цитаты | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |