My pensive SARA! thy soft cheek… Thus on mine arm, most soothing sw… To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o’… With white-flower’d Jasmin, and t… (Meet emblems they of Innocence a…
‘I fear thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and b… As is the ribbed sea-sand. I fear thee and thy glittering eye…
It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glitte… Now wherefore stopp’st thou me? The Bridegroom’s doors are opened…
Away, those cloudy looks, that lab… The peevish offspring of a sickly… Nor meanly thus complain of fortun… When the blind gamester throws a l… Yon setting sun flashes a mournful…
A Conversation Poem, April, 1798 No cloud, no relique of the sunken… Distinguishes the West, no long t… Of sullen light, no obscure trembl… Come, we will rest on this old mos…
Unchanged within, to see all chang… Is a blank lot and hard to bear, n… Yet why at others’ Wanings should… Then only might’st thou feel a jus… Hadst thou withheld thy love or hi…
All look and likeness caught from… All accident of kin and birth, Had pass’d away. There was no tra… Of aught on that illumined face, Uprais’d beneath the rifted stone
If, while my passion I impart, You deem my words untrue, O place your hand upon my heart, Feel how it throbs for you! Ah no! reject the thoughtless clai…
My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek r… Thus on mine arm, most soothing sw… To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o’… With white—flowered Jasmin, and t… (Meet emblems they of Innocence a…
Ere on my bed my limbs I lay, It hath not been my use to pray With moving lips or bended knees ; But silently, by slow degrees, My spirit I to Love compose,
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur… Where may the grave of that good m… By the side of a spring, on the br… Under the twigs of a young birch t… The oak that in summer was sweet t…
I stood on Brocken’s sovran heigh… Woods crowding upon woods, hills o… A surging scene, and only limited By the blue distance. Heavily my… Downward I dragged through fir gr…
All thoughts, all passions, all de… Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I
What is an Epigram? A dwarfish wh… Its body brevity, and wit its soul…
Dormi, Jesu! Mater ridet Quae tam dulcem somnum videt, Dormi, Jesu! blandule! Si non dormis, Mater plorat, Inter fila cantans orat,
