Samuel Taylor Coleridge ( 10 of 102 )
Ah! replied my gentle fair,
Beloved, what are names but air?
Choose thou, whatever suits the line:
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Ah! replied my gentle fair,
Beloved, what are names but air?
Choose thou, whatever suits the line:
Call me Sappho, call me Chloris,
Call me Lalage, or Doris,
Only, only, call me thine.
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.
Ignorance seldom vaults into knowledge, but passes into it
through an intermediate state of obscurity, even as night into read more
Ignorance seldom vaults into knowledge, but passes into it
through an intermediate state of obscurity, even as night into
day through twilight.
Remorse is as the heart in which it grows;
If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews
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Remorse is as the heart in which it grows;
If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews
Of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy,
It is the poison tree, that pierced to the inmost,
Weeps only tears of poison.
So lonely 'twas that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
So lonely 'twas that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
He that begins by loving Christianity better than truth will proceed by loving his own sect or church better than read more
He that begins by loving Christianity better than truth will proceed by loving his own sect or church better than Christianity, and end in loving himself better than all.
Prose--words in their best order;--poetry--the best words in
their best order.
Prose--words in their best order;--poetry--the best words in
their best order.
Acquaintance many, and conquaintance few, But for inquaintance I know only two - The friend I've wept and the maid read more
Acquaintance many, and conquaintance few, But for inquaintance I know only two - The friend I've wept and the maid I woo
O sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise read more
O sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise be given!
She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven
That slid into my soul.
Talk of the devil, and his horns appear
Talk of the devil, and his horns appear
