Samuel Taylor Coleridge ( 10 of 102 )
And a good south wind sprung up behind,
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food read more
And a good south wind sprung up behind,
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariner's hollo!
"God save thee, ancient Mariner!
From the fiends that plague thus thee!--
Why look'st thou so?"--"With my cross-bow
I shot the Albatross."
How inimitably graceful children are before they learn to dance.
How inimitably graceful children are before they learn to dance.
That passage is what I call the sublime dashed to pieces by
cutting too close with the fiery four-in-hand read more
That passage is what I call the sublime dashed to pieces by
cutting too close with the fiery four-in-hand round the corner of
nonsense.
He saw a cottage with a double coach-house,
A cottage of gentility!
And the Devil did grin, read more
He saw a cottage with a double coach-house,
A cottage of gentility!
And the Devil did grin, for his darling sin
Is pride that apes humility.
A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.
A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.
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!
Dew-drops are the gems of morning,
But the tears of mournful eve!
Dew-drops are the gems of morning,
But the tears of mournful eve!
The Past lives o'er again,
In its effects, and to the guilty spirit
The ever-frowning Present is read more
The Past lives o'er again,
In its effects, and to the guilty spirit
The ever-frowning Present is its image.
"Most musical, most melancholy" bird!
A melancholy bird! Oh! idle thought!
In nature there is nothing melancholy.
"Most musical, most melancholy" bird!
A melancholy bird! Oh! idle thought!
In nature there is nothing melancholy.
An instinctive taste teaches men to build their churches in flat
countries with spire steeples, which, as they cannot read more
An instinctive taste teaches men to build their churches in flat
countries with spire steeples, which, as they cannot be referred
to any other object, point as with silent finger to the sky and
stars.
