Sibylline Leaves: A Collection of Poems |
Результаты поиска по книге
Результаты 1 – 5 из 5
Стр. 52
From every private bower , And each domestic hearth , Haste for one solemn
hour ; And with a loud and yet a louder voice , O ' er Nature struggling in
portentous birth , Weep and rejoice ! Still echoes the dread NAME , that o ' er the
earth Let ...
From every private bower , And each domestic hearth , Haste for one solemn
hour ; And with a loud and yet a louder voice , O ' er Nature struggling in
portentous birth , Weep and rejoice ! Still echoes the dread NAME , that o ' er the
earth Let ...
Стр. 65
Sweet influences trembled o ' er his frame ; ' , ! . And he , with many feelings ,
many thoughts , Made up a meditative joy , and found til Religious meanings in
the forms of nature ' ! : o And so , his senses gradually wrapt ! i 1 . In a half sleep ,
he ...
Sweet influences trembled o ' er his frame ; ' , ! . And he , with many feelings ,
many thoughts , Made up a meditative joy , and found til Religious meanings in
the forms of nature ' ! : o And so , his senses gradually wrapt ! i 1 . In a half sleep ,
he ...
Стр. 77
Oh ! hapless sage , his ears they stun , And curse him o ' er and o ' er“ You bloody
- minded dog ! cries one , “ To slit your windpipe were good fun ,“ ' Od blast you
for an * impious son “ Of a presbyterian w — re . ” VII . 6 You ' d have him gore ...
Oh ! hapless sage , his ears they stun , And curse him o ' er and o ' er“ You bloody
- minded dog ! cries one , “ To slit your windpipe were good fun ,“ ' Od blast you
for an * impious son “ Of a presbyterian w — re . ” VII . 6 You ' d have him gore ...
Стр. 256
To plunder ' d Want ' s half - shelter ' d hovel go , Go , and some hunger - bitten
Infant hear Moan haply in a dying Mother ' s ear : Or when the cold and dismal
fog - damps brood O ' er the rank church - yard with sear elm - leaves strew ' d ...
To plunder ' d Want ' s half - shelter ' d hovel go , Go , and some hunger - bitten
Infant hear Moan haply in a dying Mother ' s ear : Or when the cold and dismal
fog - damps brood O ' er the rank church - yard with sear elm - leaves strew ' d ...
Стр. 276
AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN . Written in America , in the year 1810 . * All hail !
thou noble Land , Our Fathers ' native soil ! O stretch thy mighty hand , Gigantic
grown by toil , O ' er the vast Atlantic wave to our shore : For thou with magic
might ...
AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN . Written in America , in the year 1810 . * All hail !
thou noble Land , Our Fathers ' native soil ! O stretch thy mighty hand , Gigantic
grown by toil , O ' er the vast Atlantic wave to our shore : For thou with magic
might ...
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 FAMINE Father fear feelings flowers Friend gazed gentle green groan half hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven hill hope hour leaves light limbs living look loud Maid Mariner 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 |