Was andere dazu sagen - Rezension schreiben
Es wurden keine Rezensionen gefunden.
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Works, with a Sketch of His Life and Final Memorials, Band 1
Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2012
affect beauty believe better brought character child comes common dear death delight dreams express eyes face fair fancy fear feel Frampton give gone grace half hand hath head hear heard heart honour hope hour John keep kind knew Lady late least leave less light live look manner Margaret Mary matter mean mind Miss moral morning nature never night once pass passion perhaps person play pleasure poor present Quaker reason remember rich scene seemed seen Selby sense side sight smile sometimes sort speak spirit stand strange sure sweet tell thee things thou thought told true truth turn walk whole wife wonder young youth
Seite 217 - So every spirit, as it is most pure, And hath in it the more of heavenly light, So it the fairer body doth procure To habit in, and it more fairly dight, With cheerful grace and amiable sight. For, of the soul, the body form doth take, For soul is form, and doth the body make.
Seite 37 - I behold like a Spanish great galleon, and an English man-of-war; Master Coleridge, like the former, was built far higher in learning, solid, but slow in his performances. CVL, with the English man-of-war, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention.
Seite 173 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What, may it be that even in heavenly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case, I read it in thy looks; thy languished grace, To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
Seite 173 - I read it in thy looks ; thy languisht grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries. Then, even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me, Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit ? Are beauties there as proud as here they be ? Do they above love to be loved, and yet Those lovers scorn, whom that love doth possess ? Do they call virtue there — ungratefulness ? The last line of this poem is a little obscured by transposition.
Seite 102 - twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there : Two paradises 'twere in one, To live in paradise alone. How well the skilful gardener drew Of flowers and herbs this dial new; Where, from above, the milder sun Does through a fragrant zodiac run, And, as it works, the industrious bee Computes its time as well as we ! How could such sweet and wholesome hours Be reckoned but with herbs and flowers...
Seite 383 - twas not pride, It was a joy to that allied, She did inherit. Her parents held the Quaker rule, Which doth the human feeling cool, But she was train'd in Nature's school, Nature had blest her. A waking eye, a prying mind, A heart that stirs, is hard to bind, A hawk's keen sight ye cannot blind, Ye could not Hester. My sprightly neighbour, gone before To that unknown and silent shore, Shall we not meet, as heretofore, Some summer morning...
Seite 106 - ... and was nearly pulled down, and all its old ornaments stripped and carried away to the owner's other house, where they were set up, and looked as awkward as if some one were to carry away the old tombs they had seen lately at the Abbey, and stick them up in Lady C.'s tawdry gilt drawing-room. Here John smiled, as much as to say, " that would be foolish indeed.
Seite 36 - Come back into memory, like as thou wert in the dayspring 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...
Seite 95 - June," and I could say with the poet, " But thou, that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation !" Bridget's was more a waking bliss than mine, for she easily remembered her old acquaintance again — some altered features, of course, a little grudged at. At first, indeed, she was ready to disbelieve for joy ; but the scene soon reconfirmed itself in her affections — and she traversed every...