Samuel Taylor Coleridge ( 10 of 102 )
A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.
A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.
The happiness of life is made up of minute fractions - the little, soon-forgotten charities of a kiss or smile, read more
The happiness of life is made up of minute fractions - the little, soon-forgotten charities of a kiss or smile, a kind look, a heart-felt compliment, and the countless infinitesimals of pleasurable and genial feeling
Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, read more
Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sunthaw; whether the eve-drops fall,
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Of if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet moon.
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.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree;
Where Alph, the sacred river ran,
read more
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree;
Where Alph, the sacred river ran,
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
O, it is pleasant, with a heart at ease,
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To read more
O, it is pleasant, with a heart at ease,
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To make the shifting clouds be what you please,
Or let the easily persuaded eyes
Own each quaint likeness issuing from the mould
Of a friend's fancy.
Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God.
Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God.
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."
Or soar aloft to be the spangled skies
And gaze upon her with a thousand eyes.
Or soar aloft to be the spangled skies
And gaze upon her with a thousand eyes.
And the spring comes slowly up this way.
And the spring comes slowly up this way.
