The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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Gall & Inglis, 1881 - Всего страниц: 554

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Стр. 6 - The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.
Стр. 9 - Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the Sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one. Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the sky-lark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are, How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning!
Стр. 10 - It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune. Till noon we quietly sailed on, Yet never a breeze did breathe: Slowly and smoothly went the ship, Moved onward from beneath.
Стр. 66 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale or piny mountain, Or forest, by slow stream or pebbly spring, Or chasms, and watery depths ; all these have vanished ; They live no longer in the faith of reason...
Стр. 16 - 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 "What loud uproar bursts from that door!
Стр. 446 - Then suddenly, with timorous eye She fled to me and wept. She half enclosed me with her arms, She pressed me with a meek embrace; And bending back her head, looked up, And gazed upon my face. 'Twas partly love, and partly fear, And partly 'twas a bashful art, That I might rather feel, than see, The swelling of her heart.
Стр. 469 - Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! 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 ! God!
Стр. 445 - Nor rested day nor night ; That sometimes from the savage den, And sometimes from the darksome shade, And sometimes starting up at once In green and sunny glade, There came and looked him in the face An angel beautiful and bright, And that he knew it was a fiend...
Стр. 469 - Pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds ! And they too have a voice, yon piles of Snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, GOD...
Стр. 446 - Had thrilled my guileless Genevieve; The music and the doleful tale, The rich and balmy eve; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, An undistinguishable throng, And gentle wishes long subdued, Subdued and cherished long. She wept with pity and delight, She blushed with love, and virgin shame; And like the murmur of a dream, I heard her breathe my name. Her bosom heaved, — • she stepped aside, As conscious of my look she stept, — Then suddenly, with timorous eye She fled to me and wept.

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