Samuel Taylor Coleridge

He holds him with his glittering eye--
. . . .
And listens like a three years' read more

He holds him with his glittering eye--
. . . .
And listens like a three years' child.

The knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I read more

The knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I trust.

Language is the armory of the human mind, and at once contains the trophies of its past and the weapons read more

Language is the armory of the human mind, and at once contains the trophies of its past and the weapons of its future conquests.

O! lady, we receive but what we give,
And in our life alone doth nature live;
Ours read more

O! lady, we receive but what we give,
And in our life alone doth nature live;
Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud!

Advice is like snow -- the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into read more

Advice is like snow -- the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into the mind.