Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Her gentle limbs did she undress,
And lay down in her loveliness.

Her gentle limbs did she undress,
And lay down in her loveliness.

A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.

A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.

I have often thought what a melancholy world this would be without children, and what an inhuman world without the read more

I have often thought what a melancholy world this would be without children, and what an inhuman world without the aged

'Tis the merry nightingale
That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates
With fast thick warble his delicious notes,
read more

'Tis the merry nightingale
That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates
With fast thick warble his delicious notes,
As he were fearful that an April night
Would be too short for him to utter forth
His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul
Of all its music!

Alas! they had been friends in youth;
But whispering tongues can poison truth,
And constancy lives in read more

Alas! they had been friends in youth;
But whispering tongues can poison truth,
And constancy lives in realms above;
And life is thorny, and youth is vain;
And to be wrothe with one we love
Doth work like madness in the brain.