Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Friendship is a sheltering tree.

Friendship is a sheltering tree.

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

For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

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!

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.