Samuel Taylor Coleridge ( 10 of 102 )
Common-sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.
Common-sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.
For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut read more
For why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.
So lonely 'twas that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
So lonely 'twas that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
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.
In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.
In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.
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.
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.
Hast thou a charm to stay the morning-star
In his steep course?
Hast thou a charm to stay the morning-star
In his steep course?
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.
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.
