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The Poetical Works of Coleridge and Keats, with a Memoir of Each
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Полный просмотр - 1879
beasts beautiful beneath blood brain breath bright calm child clouds cold dark dead dear death deep delight dream earth eternal eyes faint fair fear feel fire flame flowers follow gentle grave gray green grew hair hand hear heard heart heaven hope human Italy knew lady land leaves light lips living looked lost memory mind moon mountains move nature never night o'er ocean once pain pale pass past Peter pigs poem PURGANAX rain round seemed shadow shapes silent sleep smile soft soon soul sound spirit spring stand stars strange stream sweet SWELLFOOT tears thee thine things thou thou art thought Till tower truth turned veil voice wandering waters waves weep wide wild wind wings woods
Стр. 278 - WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With...
Стр. 320 - When rocked to rest on their Mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail. And whiten the green plains under; And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder. I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the Blast.
Стр. 328 - We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Стр. 46 - By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks...
Стр. 280 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is; What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!
Стр. 92 - He wakes or sleeps with the enduring dead ; Thou canst not soar where he is sitting now. Dust to the dust ! but the pure spirit shall flow Back to the burning fountain whence it came, A portion of the Eternal, which must glow Through time and change, unquenchably the same, Whilst thy cold embers choke the sordid hearth of shame.
Стр. 95 - Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed : And on the pedestal these words appear : 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair !
Стр. 319 - Love's Philosophy The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle.
Стр. 323 - I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky ; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores ; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain, The pavilion of heaven is bare...
Стр. 77 - Oh, weep for Adonais ! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head ! And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers, And teach them thine own sorrow, say : " With me Died Adonais ; till the Future dares Forget the Past, his fate and fame shall be An echo and a light unto eternity...