Maxioms by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Our myriad-minded Shakespeare.
Our myriad-minded Shakespeare.
The frost performs its secret ministry,
Unhelped by any wind.
The frost performs its secret ministry,
Unhelped by any wind.
Lovely was the death
Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with power,
He on the thought-benighted read more
Lovely was the death
Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with power,
He on the thought-benighted Skeptic beamed
Manifest Godhead.
A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.
A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.
Yes, while I stood and gazed, my temples bare,
And shot my being through earth, sea, and air,
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Yes, while I stood and gazed, my temples bare,
And shot my being through earth, sea, and air,
Possessing all things with intensest love,
O liberty! my spirit felt thee there.
