Samuel Taylor Coleridge ( 10 of 102 )
Pity is best taught by fellowship in woe.
Pity is best taught by fellowship in woe.
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.
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.
Silence is a friend who will never betray.
Silence is a friend who will never betray.
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.
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.
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.
'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!
A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.
A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.
