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age to age aught beauty behold beneath breath bright calm ceased cheerful Child Church-yard clouds Cottage course dark Death delight doth dwell earth Epitaph evermore fair fair Isle faith fancy fear feel fields firmament of heaven flowers frame Friend grace grave green grove guardian rocks hand happy hath heard heart Heaven hills holy hope hour human labour less light live lofty lonely look mind mortal mountain muse Nature Nature's o'er pains pass'd Pastor peace pensive pity pleased pleasure praise pure racter rest Rill rocks round S. T. Coleridge sate savage Nations seat seem'd shade side sight silent smile smooth soft Solitary solitude sorrow soul sound spake speak spirit spot stood stream sublime tender things thoughts tow'rd trees truth turn Vale vex'd Vicar virtue voice Wanderer whence wild winds wish words Youth
Page 178 - Even such a shell the universe itself Is to the ear of Faith ; and there are times, I doubt not, when to you it doth impart Authentic tidings of invisible things; Of ebb and flow, and ever-during power; And central peace, subsisting at the heart Of endless agitation.
Page 82 - Far sinking into splendour — without end! Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, With alabaster domes, and silver spires, And blazing terrace upon terrace, high Uplifted ; here, serene pavilions bright In avenues disposed : there towers begirt With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars...
Page 419 - What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones The labour of an age in piled stones ? Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid ? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What needst thou such weak witness of thy name ? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a livelong monument.
Page 166 - In that fair clime, the lonely herdsman, stretched On the soft grass through half a summer's day, With music lulled his indolent repose : And, in some fit of weariness, if he, When his own breath was silent, chanced to hear A distant strain, far sweeter than the sounds Which his poor skill could make, his fancy fetched, Even from the blazing chariot of the sun, A beardless Youth, who touched a golden lute, And filled the illumined groves with ravishment.
Page xv - I, long before the blissful hour arrives, Would chant, in lonely peace, the spousal verse Of this great consummation — and, by words Which speak of nothing more than what we are, Would I arouse the sensual from their sleep Of Death, and win the vacant and the vain To noble raptures...
Page xvi - The human Soul of universal earth, Dreaming on things to come; and dost possess A metropolitan temple in the hearts Of mighty Poets : upon me bestow A gift of genuine insight ; that my Song With star-like virtue in its place may shine, Shedding benignant influence, and secure, Itself, from all malevolent effect Of those mutations that extend their sway Throughout the nether sphere...
Page 363 - Fresh power to commune with the invisible world, And hear the mighty stream of tendency Uttering, for elevation of our thought, A clear sonorous voice, inaudible To the vast multitude ; whose doom it is To run the giddy round of vain delight, Or fret and labour on the Plain below.
Page 24 - Oh, Sir ! the good die first, And they whose hearts are dry as summer dust Burn to the socket.
Page xiv - Beauty — a living presence of the earth, Surpassing the most fair ideal Forms Which craft of delicate Spirits hath composed From earth's materials — waits upon my steps ; Pitches her tents before me as I move, An hourly neighbor.