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Samuel Taylor Coleridge
1772 - 1834
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On Donne's Poetry
With Donne, whose muse on dromedary trots, / Wreathe iron pokers into true-love knots; / Rhyme's sturdy cripple, fancy's maze and clue,
Phantom
All look and likeness caught from earth / All accident of kin and birth, / Had pass'd away. There was no trace
Psyche
The butterfly the ancient Grecians made / The soul's fair emblem, and its only name / But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade
Reason
... Finally, what is Reason? You have often asked me; and this is my answer: / Whene'er the mist, that stands 'twixt God and thee, / [Sublimates] to a pure transparency,
Recollections of Love
I / How warm this woodland wild Recess! / Love surely hath been breathing here;
Reflections on Having Left a Place of Retirement
Low was our pretty Cot: our tallest Rose / Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could hear / At silent noon, and eve, and early morn,
Songs from the play "Zapolya"
(Act II, Scene I, lines 65-80) / A sunny shaft did I behold, / From sky to earth it slanted:
Sonnet: To the River Otter
Dear native brook! wild streamlet of the West! / How many various-fated years have passed, / What happy and what mournful hours, since last
The Æolian Harp
My pensive SARA! thy soft cheek reclined / Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is / To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o'ergrown
The Blossoming of the Solitary Date-Tree
A LAMENT / I / Beneath the blaze of a tropical sun the mountain peaks are the Thrones of Frost, through the absence of objects to reflect the rays. `What no one with us shares, seems scarce our own.' The presence of a ONE,
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