Samuel Taylor Coleridge

"Verse, a Breeze 'mid blossoms straying, Where clung feeding, like a bee— Both were mine! Life went a-maying With , , and , When I was young!"

"Nought cared this Body for wind or weather When and I lived in't together."

"Flowers are lovely; love is flower-like; Friendship is a sheltering tree; Oh the joys that came down shower-like, Of friendship, love, and liberty, Ere I was old!"

"Like some poor nigh-related guest, That may not rudely be dismist; Yet hath outstayed his welcome while, And tells the jest without the smile."

"In many ways doth the full heart reveal The presence of the love it would conceal."

"Summer has set in with its usual severity."

"My eyes make pictures, when they are shut."

"I counted two and seventy stenches, All well defined, and several stinks!"

"The river Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash your city of Cologne; But tell me, Nymphs, what power divine Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine?"

"The happiness of life ... is made up of minute fractions — the little soon-forgotten charities of a kiss, a smile, a kind look, a heartfelt compliment in the disguise of playful raillery, and the countless other infinitesimals of pleasurable thought and genial feeling."

"Beneath this sod A poet lies, or that which once seemed he — Oh, lift a thought in prayer for S.T.C! That he, who many a year, with toil of breath, Found death in life, may here find life in death."

"If a man could pass through Paradise in a dream, and have a flower presented to him as a pledge that his soul had really been there, and if he found that flower in his hand when he awake — Aye! and what then?"

"On awakening he appeared to himself to have a distinct recollection of the whole, and taking his pen, ink, and paper, instantly and eagerly wrote down the lines that are here preserved. At this moment he was unfortunately called out by a person on business from Porlock, and detained by him above an hour, and on his return to his room, found, to his no small surprise and mortification, that though he still retained some vague and dim recollection of the general purport of the vision, yet, with the exception of some eight or ten scattered lines and images, all the rest had passed away like the images on the surface of a stream into which a stone has been cast, but, alas! without the after restoration of the latter!"

"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea."

"So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round: And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery."

"But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced:"

"Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail: And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river."

"Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean: And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war!"

"The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves."

"It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!"

"A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise."

"Sir Leoline, the Baron rich, Hath a toothless mastiff bitch."

"’Tis a month before the month of May, And the spring comes slowly up this way."

"There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky."

"A lady so richly clad as she, Beautiful exceedingly!"

"Carv'd with figures strange and sweet, All made out of the carver's brain."

"Her gentle limbs did she undress, And lay down in her loveliness."

"Behold! her bosom and half her side— A sight to dream of, not to tell!"

"That saints will aid if men will call: For the blue sky bends over all!"

"Her face, oh call it fair, not pale!"

"Each matin bell, the Baron saith, Knells us back to a world of death."

"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 wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain."

"They stood aloof, the scars remaining,— Like cliffs which had been rent asunder: A dreary sea now flows between."

"A little child, a limber elf, Singing, dancing to itself, A fairy thing with red round cheeks, That always finds, and never seeks, Makes such a vision to the sight As fills a father’s eyes with light."

"Perhaps 'tis pretty to force together Thoughts so all unlike each other; To mutter and mock a broken charm, To dally with wrong that does no harm."

"Well! If the Bard was weatherwise, who made The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence."

"A grief without a pang, void, dark and drear, A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief, Which finds no natural outlet, no relief In word, or sigh, or tear."

"And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars, That give away their motion to the stars."

"Yon crescent Moon, as fix'd as if it grew In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue."

"I see them all so excellently fair, I see, not feel, how beautiful they are!"

"I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within."

"O lady! we receive but what we give And in our life alone does Nature live."

"A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the earth."

"Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud — We in ourselves rejoice! And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight, All melodies the echoes of that voice, All colours a suffusion from that light."

"The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The Power, the Beauty, and the Majesty That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and wat'ry depths; all these have vanished. They live no longer in the faith of reason!"

"But still the heart doth need a language, still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names"

"I've lived and loved."

"The doing evil to avoid an evil Cannot be good."

"Clothing the palpable and the familiar With golden exhalations of the dawn."

"Often do the spirits Of great events stride on before the events, And in to-day already walks to-morrow."