Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Всі вірші поета

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What if you slept

And what if

In your sleep

You dreamed

And what if

In your dream

You went to heaven

And there plucked a strange and beautiful flower

195

by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Kubla Khan: Or, A Vision In A Dream A Fragment

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,

124

by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner

[An ancient Mariner meeteth three Gallants bidden to a wedding-feast, and detaineth one.]

It is an ancient Mariner,

And he stoppeth one of three.

`By thy long beard and glittering eye,

Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

'The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,

And I am next of kin;

The guests are met, the feast is set:

167

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The Presence Of Love

And in Life's noisiest hour,

There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee,

The heart's Self-solace and soliloquy.

______________________

You mould my Hopes, you fashion me within ;

And to the leading Love-throb in the Heart

Thro' all my Being, thro' my pulses beat ;

You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light,

165

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Youth And Age

Verse, a Breeze 'mid blossoms straying,

Where HOPE clung feeding, like a bee--

Both were mine ! Life went a-maying

With NATURE, HOPE, and POESY,

I was young!

When I was young? -- Ah, woeful WHEN!

Ah ! for the Change 'twixt Now and Then!

This breathing House not built with hands,

150

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Monody On The Death Of Chatterton

When faint and sad o'er sorrow's desert wild

Slow journeys onward poor misfortune's child;

When fades each lovely form by fancy drest,

And inly pines the self-consuming breast;

(No scourge of scorpions in thy right arm dread.

No helmed terrors nodding o'er thy head);

Assume, O death! the cherub wings of peace,

And bid the heart-sick wanderer's anguish cease!

151

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

About The Nightingale

In stale blank verse a subject stale

I send per post my Nightingale;

And like an honest bard, dear Wordsworth,

You'll tell me what you think, my Bird's worth.

My own opinion's briefly this—

His bill he opens not amiss;

And when he has sung a stave or so,

His breast, and some small space below,

137

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Christabel

Part The First

'Tis the middle of night by the castle clock

And the owls have awakened the crowing cock;

Tu-whit!--Tu-whoo!

And hark, again! the crowing cock,

How drowsily it crew.

Sir Leoline, the Baron rich,

Hath a toothless mastiff, which

126

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Frost At Midnight

The Frost performs its secret ministry,

Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry

Came loud--and hark, again! loud as before.

The inmates of my cottage, all at rest,

Have left me to that solitude, which suits

Abstruser musings: save that at my side

My cradled infant slumbers peacefully.

'Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs

133

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The Suicide's Argument

Ere the birth of my life, if I wished it or no

No question was asked me--it could not be so!

If the life was the question, a thing sent to try

And to live on be YES; what can NO be? to die.

NATURE'S ANSWER

Is't returned, as 'twas sent? Is't no worse for the wear?

Think first, what you ARE! Call to mind what you WERE!

I gave you innocence, I gave you hope,

180

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The Pains Of Sleep

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,

In humble trust mine eye-lids close,

With reverential resignation,

No wish conceived, no thought exprest,

164

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Duty Surviving Self-Love, The Only Sure Friend Of Declining Life A Soliloquy

Unchanged within, to see all changed without,

Is a blank lot and hard to bear, no doubt.

Yet why at others' Wanings should'st thou fret?

Then only might'st thou feel a just regret,

Hadst thou withheld thy love or hid thy light

In selfish forethought of neglect and slight.

O wiselier then, from feeble yearnings freed,

While, and on whom, thou may'st--shine on! nor heed

159

Samuel Taylor Coleridge