Coleridge, Том 10Harper & brothers, 1884 - Всего страниц: 199 |
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Стр. 13
... hope to form an adequate conception of Coleridge's essential instability of character without bestowing somewhat closer attention upon this passage in his intellectual development than it usually receives . It is not uncommon to see the ...
... hope to form an adequate conception of Coleridge's essential instability of character without bestowing somewhat closer attention upon this passage in his intellectual development than it usually receives . It is not uncommon to see the ...
Стр. 85
... hope and gaiety , full of confidence in himself and of interest in life during his few months ' residence in Ger- many . The annus mirabilis of his poetic life was but two years behind him , and his achievements of 1797-98 seemed to him ...
... hope and gaiety , full of confidence in himself and of interest in life during his few months ' residence in Ger- many . The annus mirabilis of his poetic life was but two years behind him , and his achievements of 1797-98 seemed to him ...
Стр. 90
... Hope ; but I am myself of opinion , after a careful study of both pieces , that it is more probably the Pains of Sleep , which moreover is known to have been written in 1803. But whichever it be , its date is fixed in that year by the ...
... Hope ; but I am myself of opinion , after a careful study of both pieces , that it is more probably the Pains of Sleep , which moreover is known to have been written in 1803. But whichever it be , its date is fixed in that year by the ...
Стр. 93
... hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life , whose fountains are within . " O Lady ! we receive but what we give , 66 And in our life alone does nature live : Ours is her wedding garment , ours her shroud ! And would we ...
... hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life , whose fountains are within . " O Lady ! we receive but what we give , 66 And in our life alone does nature live : Ours is her wedding garment , ours her shroud ! And would we ...
Стр. 94
... hope grew round me , like the twining vine , And fruits , and foliage , not my own , seemed mine . But now afflictions bow me own to earth : Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth , But O ! each visitation Suspends what nature gave me ...
... hope grew round me , like the twining vine , And fruits , and foliage , not my own , seemed mine . But now afflictions bow me own to earth : Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth , But O ! each visitation Suspends what nature gave me ...
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acquaintance admiration afterwards Alfoxden Ancient Mariner appear beautiful biographer Biographia Literaria Bristol Calne Carlyle character Charles Lamb Christ's Hospital Christabel Cole Coleridge Coleridge's Coleridge's poetic Coleridgian complete consciousness contributions Cottle course criticism destined doubt early England English Eolian fact feeling genius Gillman Grasmere Green habit human ical imagination intellectual Keswick Lake country laudanum least lectures less letter literary literature London Lyrical Ballads Malta ment merits metaphysics mind months moral Morning Post Musings nature Nether Stowey never opium original pain passage passion perhaps period persons philosophy poem poet poet's poetry political prose Quantock Hills Quincey Quincey's reader reading reason record remarkable ridge ridge's Samuel Taylor Coleridge seems sense soul Southey spirit Stowey style thing thought tion truth verse volume Watchman Wedgwood whole words Wordsworth writes written young youthful
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Стр. 172 - Kent. Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass! He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
Стр. 58 - The author continued for about three hours in a profound sleep, at least of the external senses, during which time he has the most vivid confidence, that he could not have composed less than from two to three hundred lines...
Стр. 94 - For not to think of what I needs must feel, But to be still and patient, all I can; And haply by abstruse research to steal From my own nature all the natural man — This was my sole resource, my only plan: Till that which suits a part infects the whole, And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.
Стр. 92 - A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear, A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief, Which finds no natural outlet, no relief, In word, or sigh, or tear...
Стр. 58 - At this moment he was unfortunately called out by a person on business from Porlock, and detained by him above an hour...
Стр. 53 - 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. 43 - In the one the incidents and agents were to be, in part at least, supernatural ; and the excellence aimed at was to consist in the interesting of the affections by the dramatic truth of such emotions as would naturally accompany such situations, supposing them real.
Стр. 6 - Come back into memory, like as thou wert in the day-spring of thy fancies, with hope like a fiery column before thee — the dark pillar not yet turned — Samuel Taylor Coleridge — Logician, Metaphysician, Bard ! — How have I seen the casual passer through the Cloisters stand still, entranced with admiration (while he weighed the disproportion between the speech and the garb of the young Mirandula), to hear thee unfold, in thy deep and sweet intonations, the mysteries of Jamblichus, or Plotinus...
Стр. 94 - There was a time when, though my path was rough, This joy within me dallied with distress, And all misfortunes were but as the stuff Whence Fancy made me dreams of happiness: For hope grew round me, like the twining vine, And fruits and foliage, not my own, seemed mine.
Стр. 40 - Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee, Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall, Heard only in the trances of the blast, Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.