Maxioms by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
So lonely 'twas that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
So lonely 'twas that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing,
And may this storm be but a mountain-birth,
May read more
Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing,
And may this storm be but a mountain-birth,
May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling,
Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth!
O sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise read more
O sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise be given!
She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven
That slid into my soul.
Prose--words in their best order;--poetry--the best words in
their best order.
Prose--words in their best order;--poetry--the best words in
their best order.
And the spring comes slowly up this way.
And the spring comes slowly up this way.
