Samuel Taylor Coleridge

[Samuel Coleridge] (1772-1834 / Devon / England)

Samuel Taylor Coleridge Poems

161. Sonnet: To The River Otter 12/31/2002
162. Duty Surviving Self-Love 5/14/2001
163. Limbo 5/14/2001
164. To William Wordsworth 5/14/2001
165. Suicide's Argument, The 12/31/2002
166. France: An Ode 5/14/2001
167. Cologne 5/14/2001
168. The Faded Flower 12/31/2002
169. Aeolian Harp, The 12/31/2002
170. The Eolian Harp 1/13/2003
171. A Soliloquy Of The Full Moon, She Being In A Mad Passion 5/14/2001
172. Answer To A Child's Question 3/31/2010
173. Love 5/14/2001
174. Fragment 5/14/2001
175. Work Without Hope 5/14/2001
176. Despair 5/14/2001
177. Dejection: An Ode 5/14/2001
178. Human Life 5/14/2001
179. A Child's Evening Prayer 3/31/2010
180. A Tombless Epitaph 5/14/2001
181. Desire 5/14/2001
182. Life 12/31/2002
183. A Day Dream 3/31/2010
184. About The Nightingale 5/14/2001
185. Christabel 1/13/2003
186. Frost At Midnight 5/14/2001
187. The Good, Great Man 12/31/2002
188. Fears In Solitude 5/14/2001
189. Rime Of The Ancient Mariner 12/31/2002
190. The Suicide's Argument 5/14/2001
191. The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner 5/14/2001
192. Kubla Khan 5/14/2001

Comments about Samuel Taylor Coleridge

  • Stephanie carlson (2/27/2018 12:42:00 PM)

    His life sounded miserable, sad, and very difficult

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Ling Poon (11/15/2013 9:41:00 AM)

    his life was miserable

Best Poem of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Kubla Khan

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,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e'er ...

Read the full of Kubla Khan

Love

All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame.

Oft in my waking dreams do I
Live o'er again that happy hour,
When midway on the mount I lay,
Beside the ruined tower.

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