Sibylline Leaves: A Collection of Poems |
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Стр. 66
Like a cloud that travels on , Steam ' d up from Cairo ' s swamps of pestilence , Ev
' n so , my countrymen ! have we gone forth And borne to distant tribes slavery
and pangs , And , deadlier far , our vices , whose deep taint With slow perdition ...
Like a cloud that travels on , Steam ' d up from Cairo ' s swamps of pestilence , Ev
' n so , my countrymen ! have we gone forth And borne to distant tribes slavery
and pangs , And , deadlier far , our vices , whose deep taint With slow perdition ...
Стр. 125
And so with many a hope I seek : And with such joy I find my Lewti ; And even so
my pale wan cheek Drinks in as deep a flush of beauty ! Nay , treacherous image
! leave my mind , If Lewti never will be kind . do not The little cloud - it floats ...
And so with many a hope I seek : And with such joy I find my Lewti ; And even so
my pale wan cheek Drinks in as deep a flush of beauty ! Nay , treacherous image
! leave my mind , If Lewti never will be kind . do not The little cloud - it floats ...
Стр. 133
They meet , they join ; In deep embrace , and open to the Sun Lie calm and
smooth . Such the delicious hour Of deep enjoyment , following love ' s brief
feuds ! And hark , the noise of a near waterfall ! I came out into light - I find myself
Beneath ...
They meet , they join ; In deep embrace , and open to the Sun Lie calm and
smooth . Such the delicious hour Of deep enjoyment , following love ' s brief
feuds ! And hark , the noise of a near waterfall ! I came out into light - I find myself
Beneath ...
Стр. 144
Hark ! the deep buzz of Vanity and Hate ! Scornful , yet envious , with self -
torturing sneer My lady eyes some maid of humbler state , While the pert Captain
, or the primmer Priest , Prattles accordant scandal in her ear . O give me , from
this ...
Hark ! the deep buzz of Vanity and Hate ! Scornful , yet envious , with self -
torturing sneer My lady eyes some maid of humbler state , While the pert Captain
, or the primmer Priest , Prattles accordant scandal in her ear . O give me , from
this ...
Стр. 276
The Genius of our clime , From his pine - embattled steep , Shall hail the guest
sublime ; While the Tritons of the deep * This Poem , written by an American
gentleman , a valued and dear friend , I communicate to the reader for its moral ,
no ...
The Genius of our clime , From his pine - embattled steep , Shall hail the guest
sublime ; While the Tritons of the deep * This Poem , written by an American
gentleman , a valued and dear friend , I communicate to the reader for its moral ,
no ...
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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
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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 |