Maxioms by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
"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.
Language is the armory of the human mind, and at once contains the trophies of its past and the weapons read more
Language is the armory of the human mind, and at once contains the trophies of its past and the weapons of its future conquests.
And the spring comes slowly up this way.
And the spring comes slowly up this way.
Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned read more
Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round, walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
My eyes make pictures, when they are shut.
My eyes make pictures, when they are shut.
