Samuel Taylor Coleridge ( 10 of 102 )
If the prophecies of the Old Testament are not rightly interpreted of Jesus our Christ, then there is no prediction read more
If the prophecies of the Old Testament are not rightly interpreted of Jesus our Christ, then there is no prediction whatever contained in it of that stupendous event, the rise and establishment of Christianity, in comparison with which all the preceding Jewish history is as nothing. With the exception of the book of Daniel, which the Jews themselves never classed among the prophecies, and an obscure text of Jeremiah, there is not a passage in all the Old Testament which favours the notion of a temporal Messiah. What moral object was there, for which such a Messiah should come? What could he have been but a sort of virtuous Napoleon?
For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut read more
For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.
So lonely 'twas that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
So lonely 'twas that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
Ignorance seldom vaults into knowledge, but passes into it
through an intermediate state of obscurity, even as night into read more
Ignorance seldom vaults into knowledge, but passes into it
through an intermediate state of obscurity, even as night into
day through twilight.
In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.
In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.
He that begins by loving Christianity better than truth will proceed by loving his own sect or church better than read more
He that begins by loving Christianity better than truth will proceed by loving his own sect or church better than Christianity, and end in loving himself better than all.
All Nature seems at work, slugs leave their lair--
The bees are stirring--birds are on the wing--
read more
All Nature seems at work, slugs leave their lair--
The bees are stirring--birds are on the wing--
And Winter, slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Hast thou a charm to stay the morning-star
In his steep course?
Hast thou a charm to stay the morning-star
In his steep course?
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.
O what a loud and fearful shriek was there!
. . .
Ah me! they view'd beneath read more
O what a loud and fearful shriek was there!
. . .
Ah me! they view'd beneath an hireling's sword
Fallen Kosciusco.
