Maxioms by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
My eyes make pictures, when they are shut.
My eyes make pictures, when they are shut.
I never think of the future--it comes soon enough.
I never think of the future--it comes soon enough.
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.
'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!
Friendship is a sheltering tree.
Friendship is a sheltering tree.
