Samuel Taylor Coleridge ( 10 of 102 )
God's child in Christ adopted -- Christ my all -- What that earth boasts were not lost cheaply, rather Than read more
God's child in Christ adopted -- Christ my all -- What that earth boasts were not lost cheaply, rather Than forfeit that blest name, by which I call The Holy One, the Almighty God, my Father? -- Father! in Christ we live, and Christ in Thee -- Eternal Thou and everlasting we. The heir of heaven, henceforth I fear not death: In Christ I live! in Christ I draw the breath Of the true life! -- let then earth, sea, and sky Make war against me! On my front I show Their mighty Master's seal. In vain they try To end my life, that can but end its woe. Is that a death-bed where a Christian lies? Yes, but not his -- 'tis Death itself there dies.
Those holies of themselves a shape
As of an arbor took.
Those holies of themselves a shape
As of an arbor took.
Swans sing before they die - 'twere no bad thing should certain persons die before they sing.
Swans sing before they die - 'twere no bad thing should certain persons die before they sing.
I have often thought what a melancholy world this would be without children, and what an inhuman world without the read more
I have often thought what a melancholy world this would be without children, and what an inhuman world without the aged
The knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I read more
The knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I trust.
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.
All Nature seems at work, slugs leave their lair--
The bees are stirring--birds are on the wing--
read more
All Nature seems at work, slugs leave their lair--
The bees are stirring--birds are on the wing--
And Winter, slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Alas! they had been friends in youth;
But whispering tongues can poison truth,
And constancy lives in read more
Alas! they had been friends in youth;
But whispering tongues can poison truth,
And constancy lives in realms above;
And life is thorny, and youth is vain;
And to be wrothe with one we love
Doth work like madness in the brain.
Our myriad-minded Shakespeare.
Our myriad-minded Shakespeare.
Common-sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.
Common-sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.
