Samuel Taylor Coleridge
It may indeed be fantasy when I
Essay to draw from all created things
Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that closely clings;
And trace in leaves and flowers that round me lie
Lessons of love and earnest piety.
So let it be; and if the wide world rings
In mock of this belief, it brings
Nor fear, nor grief, nor vain perplexity.
So will I build my altar in the fields,
And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be,
And the sweet fragrance that the wild flower yields
Shall be the incense I will yield to Thee,
Thee only God! and thou shalt not despise
Even me, the priest of this poor sacrifice.
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Comments about this poem (To Nature by Samuel Taylor Coleridge )
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Did you read them?
- Shadows Leading Me, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Fairness!, Clarence Prince
- At Her Feet, Naveed Akram
- Enjoying Interior Sensations, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Know everything at least, gajanan mishra
- Lost Images, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Abortion (cry of a foetus), ramesh rai
- Feel me, I am here, gajanan mishra
- Let me start afresh, gajanan mishra
- selfie, ko the skipper