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Samuel Taylor Coleridge Quotes
1772–1834 England
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (October 21, 1772 – July 25, 1834) was an English poet, critic and philosopher who was, along with his friend William Wordsworth, one of the founders of the Romantic Movement in England and one of the Lake Poets.
England Conservatives Philosophers Poets Theologians Also known as: Coleridge, Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, Samuel Coleridge
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209 quotes
And this reft house is that the which he built, Lamented Jack!
A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the earth.
Dejection: An Ode (1802)
He has no native Passion, because he is not a Thinker — & has probably weakened his Intellect by the haunting Fear of becoming extravagant.
A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.
We are bound to assume that the Crown in the exercise of its grace and favour, will be guided solely by constitutional considerations, by regard to merit, loyalty, and public services.
For why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind? The air is cut away before, And closes from behind.
But metre itself implies a passion, i.e. a state of excitement, both in the Poet's mind, & is expected in that of the Reader.
O! lady, we receive but what we give, And in our life alone doth nature live; Ours is her wedding-garment, ours her shroud!
The anxiety to be admired is a loveless passion ... , loud on the hustings, gay in the ball-room, mute and sullen at the family fireside.
Aids to Reflection (1825)
His jacket was red and his breeches were blue, And there was a hole where the tail came through.
But still the heart doth need a language, still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names
Wallenstein (1800)
He holds him with his glittering eye— * * * * * * And listens like a three years' child.
’Tis a month before the month of May, And the spring comes slowly up this way.
Christabel (1797)
Or soar aloft to be the spangled skies And gaze upon her with a thousand eyes.
Carved with figures strange and sweet, All made out of the carver's brain.
Dew-drops are the gems of morning, But the tears of mournful eve!
Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade, Death came with friendly care; The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And bade it blossom there.
A lady so richly clad as she, Beautiful exceedingly!
Christabel (1797)
The Eighth Commandment was not made for bards.
The Reproof and Reply (1823)
Aloof with hermit-eye I scan The present works of present man — A wild and dreamlike trade of blood and guile, Too foolish for a tear, too wicked for a smile!
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