Specimens of the Table Talk of the Late Samuel Taylor Coleridge: In Two Volumes, Volum 2

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John Murray, 1835 - 372 sider
 

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Side 30 - Behold, my mother and my brethren! For whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother.
Side 295 - The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers. Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry " Hold, hold !
Side 83 - The tawny lion, pawing to get free His hinder parts ; then springs, as broke from bonds, And rampant shakes his brinded mane...
Side 74 - Have I pursued thee, many a weary hour; But thou nor swell'st the victor's strain, nor ever Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human power. Alike from all, howe'er they praise thee, (Nor prayer, nor boastful name delays thee) Alike from Priestcraft's harpy minions, And factious Blasphemy's obscener slaves, Thou speedest on thy subtle pinions, The guide of homeless winds, and play-mate of the waves!
Side 332 - Forth rush'd with whirlwind sound The chariot of Paternal Deity, Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn, Itself instinct with spirit, but convoy'd By four cherubic shapes ; four faces each Had wondrous ; as with stars, their bodies all, And wings, were set with eyes; with eyes the wheels Of beryl, and careering fires between...
Side 229 - HEAR, O heavens, and give ear, O earth: For the Lord hath spoken, I have nourished and brought up children, And they have rebelled against me. The ox knoweth his owner, And the ass his master's crib: But Israel doth not know, My people doth not consider.
Side 84 - Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, . , '. Shot forth peculiar graces : then with voice > Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, ; ,-': Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus : Awake, My fairest...
Side 264 - Milton's strong pinion now not Heav'n can bound, Now, serpent-like, in prose he sweeps the ground. In quibbles Angel and Archangel join, And God the Father turns a School-divine. Not that I'd lop the beauties from his book, Like slashing Bentley with his desp'rate hook; Or damn all Shakespeare, like th' affected fool At Court, who hates whate'er he read at School.
Side 298 - I take unceasing delight in Chaucer. His manly cheerfulness is especially delicious to me in my old age. How exquisitely tender he is, and yet how perfectly free from the least touch of sickly melancholy or morbid drooping!
Side 84 - Tarsus, bound for the isles Of Javan or Gadire, With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, Sails fill'd, and streamers waving, Courted by all the winds that hold them play...

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