The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: The poetical and dramatic works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Juvenile poems. Sibylline leaves. The The rime of the ancient mariner : in seven parts. Christabel. Miscellaneous poems. Remorse : a tragedy, in five acts. Zapolya : a Christmas tale, in two parts. The Piccolomini, or, The first part of Wallenstein : a dramaHarper & Brothers, Franklin Square, 1853 |
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Стр. 19
... twas some faery place ) Their pinions , ostrich - like , for saile qutspread , Two lovely children run'an'crdless race , A sister and a brother ! That far outstripp'd the other ; Yet ever runs she with reverted face , And looks and ...
... twas some faery place ) Their pinions , ostrich - like , for saile qutspread , Two lovely children run'an'crdless race , A sister and a brother ! That far outstripp'd the other ; Yet ever runs she with reverted face , And looks and ...
Стр. 52
... Twas Brookes's all till two , - ' twas Hackett's all the rest ! PROGRESS OF VICE DEEP in the gulf of Vice and Woe Leaps man at once with headlong throw ? Him inborn Truth and Virtue guide , Whose guards are shame and conscious pride ...
... Twas Brookes's all till two , - ' twas Hackett's all the rest ! PROGRESS OF VICE DEEP in the gulf of Vice and Woe Leaps man at once with headlong throw ? Him inborn Truth and Virtue guide , Whose guards are shame and conscious pride ...
Стр. 56
... Twas thine to feel the sympathetic glow In Merit's joy , and Poverty's meek woe ; Thine all , that cheer the moment as it flies , The zoneless Cares , and smiling Courtesies . Nursed in thy heart the firmer Virtues grew , And in thy ...
... Twas thine to feel the sympathetic glow In Merit's joy , and Poverty's meek woe ; Thine all , that cheer the moment as it flies , The zoneless Cares , and smiling Courtesies . Nursed in thy heart the firmer Virtues grew , And in thy ...
Стр. 63
... twas fair ; And soothed with many a dream the hour of rest : Thou shouldst have loved it most , when most opprest , And nursed it with an agony of care , Even as a Mother her sweet infant heir That wan and sickly droops upon her breast ...
... twas fair ; And soothed with many a dream the hour of rest : Thou shouldst have loved it most , when most opprest , And nursed it with an agony of care , Even as a Mother her sweet infant heir That wan and sickly droops upon her breast ...
Стр. 88
... Twas the cold season when the rustic's eye From the drear desolate whiteness of his fields Rolls for relief to watch the skyey tints And clouds slow varying their huge imagery ; When now , as she was wont , the healthful Maid Had left ...
... Twas the cold season when the rustic's eye From the drear desolate whiteness of his fields Rolls for relief to watch the skyey tints And clouds slow varying their huge imagery ; When now , as she was wont , the healthful Maid Had left ...
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Alvar arms art thou babe Bathory beneath Bethlen blessed breast bright Butler Casimir child clouds Coun Countess Cuirassiers curse dare dark dear death doth dream Duch Duke earth Egra Emerick Emperor fair faith fancy father fear feel gaze gentle Glycine groan hand hath hear heard heart Heaven holy honor hope hour Illo Illyria Isid Isolani Jeremy Taylor Kiuprili lady Laska light live look Lord maid Maradas moon mother ne'er Nether Stowey never night o'er Octavio once Ordonio pause Piccolomini Pilsen Prague Questenberg round SCENE sigh silent sleep smile song soul spirit stand stars stept strange Swedes sweet sword tale tears tell Tertsky thee Thek Thekla thine things thou art thought Twas Valdez voice Wallenstein wild words Wran youth
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Стр. 155 - Ye Ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! 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!
Стр. 235 - Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Night-mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; "The game is done! I've won! I've won!
Стр. 261 - Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above, And life is thorny, and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain.
Стр. 234 - See! See! (I cried) she tacks no more! Hither to work us weal; Without a breeze, without a tide, She steadies with upright keel!
Стр. 232 - The Sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. "And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners
Стр. 238 - They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. "Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.
Стр. 126 - All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve!
Стр. 230 - The Sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon — The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon.
Стр. 246 - Upon the whirl, where sank the ship, The boat spun round and round; And all was still, save that the hill Was telling of the sound. I...
Стр. 153 - BLANC! The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful Form! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity!