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The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2012
Alvar ALWAR arms art thou Bathory Beatrice beneath blood bosom breath bright Butler calm Cenci child clouds cold countess curse Cyclops dare dark dead dear death deep Demogorgon dost doth dream Duke earth Egra Emerick Endymion eyes fair father fear feel flowers gaze gentle Glycine hast hath hear heard heart Heaven hope hour human Illo Isolani KIUPRILI lady Laon LASKA light lips living look Lord Mephistopheles mighty moon mother mountains never night o'er octavio ordonio pale PANTHEA poison'd PROMEThe Prometheus QUESTENBERG Robespierre round SAROLTA SCENE seem'd SEMichorus shadow silent silenus slaves sleep smile song soul sound spirit stars strange stream sweet tears tempest TERtsky thee Thekla thine things thou art thought throne trembling truth Twas tyrant voice WALLENSTEIN waves weep wild wind wings words youth
Seite 208 - Over earth and ocean with gentle motion This pilot is guiding me, Lured by the love of the genii that move In the depths of the purple sea ; Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, Over the lakes and the plains, Wherever he dream...
Seite 74 - Is it he?' quoth one, 'Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross. The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.
Seite 76 - O sweeter than the marriage-feast, 'Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company! — To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay!
Seite 74 - twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute. 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.
Seite 70 - The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she : Nodding their heads before her goes The merry minstrelsy. The Wedding-guest he beat his breast, Yet he cannot choose but hear ; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner. And now the storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong : He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends...
Seite 209 - I hang like a roof, The mountains its columns be. The triumphal arch through which I march With hurricane, fire and snow, When the powers of the air are chained to my chair, Is the million-coloured bow ; The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove, While the moist earth was laughing below.
Seite 72 - I fear thee and thy glittering eye. And thy skinny hand so brown." — " Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest! This body dropt not down Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide, wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony. The many men so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I. I...
Seite 46 - Thy habitation from eternity! 0 dread and silent Mount! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought: entranced in prayer 1 worshipped the Invisible alone. Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it, Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my thought, Yea, with my life and life's own secret joy...
Seite 74 - gan stir, With a short uneasy motion— Backwards and forwards half her length With a short uneasy motion. Then like a pawing horse let go, She made a sudden bound: It flung the blood into my head, And I fell down in a swound.
Seite 76 - I bid thee say What manner of man art thou?" Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched With a woful agony, Which forced me to begin my tale; And then it left me free. Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns: And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns. 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.