Samuel Coleridge

The Exchange

We pledged our hearts, my love and I, I in my arms the maiden clasping; I could not tell the reason why, But, O, I trembled like an aspen! Her father’s love she bade

Phantom

All look and likeness caught from earth All accident of kin and birth, Had pass’d away. There was no trace Of aught on that illumined face, Uprais’d beneath the rifted stone But of one

To William Wordsworth

Friend of the Wise! and Teacher of the Good! Into my heart have I received that Lay More than historic, that prophetic Lay Wherein (high theme by thee first sung aright) Of the foundations

Dejection: An Ode

Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon, With the old Moon in her arms ; And I fear, I fear, My Master dear! We shall have a deadly storm. Ballad of Sir Patrick

Youth And Age

Verse, a Breeze ‘mid blossoms straying, Where HOPE clung feeding, like a bee Both were mine! Life went a-maying With NATURE, HOPE, and POESY, [Image][Image]When I was young! When I was young? Ah, woful

Duty Surviving Self-Love

Unchanged within, to see all changed without, Is a blank lot and hard to bear, no doubt. Yet why at others’ Wanings should’st thou fret? Then only might’st thou feel a just regret, Hadst

Whom should I choose for my Judge? (fragment)

Whom should I choose for my Judge? the earnest, impersonal reader, Who, in the work, forgets me and the world and himself! Ye who have eyes to detect, and Gall to Chastise the imperfect,

Kubla Khan

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls

The Three Sorts of Friends (fragment)

Though friendships differ endless in degree, The sorts, methinks, may be reduced to three. Ac quaintance many, and Con quaintance few; But for In quaintance I know only two The friend I’ve mourned with,

The Faded Flower

Ungrateful he, who pluck’d thee from thy stalk, Poor faded flow’ret! on his careless way; Inhal’d awhile thy odours on his walk, Then onward pass’d and left thee to decay. Ah! melancholy emblem! had

Human Life

If dead, we cease to be ; if total gloom Swallow up life’s brief flash for aye, we fare As summer-gusts, of sudden birth and doom, Whose sound and motion not alone declare, But

As some vast Tropic tree, itself a wood (fragment)

As some vast Tropic tree, itself a wood, That crests its Head with clouds, beneath the flood Feeds its deep roots, and with the bulging flank Of its wide base controls the fronting bank,

France: An Ode

EXCERPT] … O Liberty! with profitless endeavour Have I pursued thee, many a weary hour ; But thou nor swell’st the victor’s strain, nor ever Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human power.

The Eolian Harp

(Composed at Clevedon, Somersetshire) My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclined Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o’ergrown With white-flower’d Jasmin, and the broad-leav’d

The Blossing Of The Solitary Date-Tree

Beneath the blaze of a tropical sun the mountain peaks are the Thrones of Frost, through the absence of objects to reflect the rays. ‘What no one With us shares, seems scarce our own.’
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