Poeticous Logo
en
English Español Français Italiano
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

I Know 'Tis But a Dream, Yet Feel More Anguish (Fragment)

I know ‘tis but a Dream, yet feel more anguish
  Than if ’twere Truth. It has been often so:
  Must I die under it? Is no one near?
  Will no one hear these stifled groans and wake me?

#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury

Enjoyed this read? Treat us to a coffee!.
Your help allows us to exist.
Other works by Samuel Taylor Coleridge...
To Nature

It may indeed be phantasy, when I Essay to draw from all created thi… Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that c… And trace in leaves and flowers th… Lessons of love and earnest piety.
 1
Sonnet XIII. to La Fayette

As when far off the warbled strain… That soar on Morning’s wing the v… Within his cage th’ imprisoned mat… Swells the full chorus with a gene… He bathes no pinion in the dewy li…
Zapolya

Song (Act II, Scene I, lines 65-80) A sunny shaft did I behold, From sky to earth it slanted: And poised therein a bird so bold—
The Two Founts. Stanzas Addressed to a Lady on Her Recovery, With Unblemished Looks, From a Severe Attack of Pain

'Twas my last waking thought, how… That thou, sweet friend, such angu… When straight from Dreamland came… Could tell the cause, forsooth, an… Methought he fronted me with peeri…
Ode to Sara, in Answer to a Letter From Bristol

Nor travels my meand’ring eye The starry wilderness on high; Nor now with curious sight I mark the glow-worm as I pass, Move with 'green radiance’ thro’ t…
To a Friend, in Answer to a Melancholy Letter

Away, those cloudy looks, that lab… The peevish offspring of a sickly… Nor meanly thus complain of fortun… When the blind gamester throws a l… Yon setting sun flashes a mournful…
Sonnet V.

Sweet Mercy! how my very heart ha… To see thee, poor old man! and thy… Hoar with the snowy blast; while n… To clothe thy shrivelled limbs and… My Father! throw away this tatter…
Sonnet VIII. to Mercy

Not always should the tear’s ambro… Roll its soft anguish down thy fur… Not always heaven-breathed tones o… Beseem thee, Mercy! Yon dark Sco… Who with proud words of dear-loved…
The Keepsake

The tedded hay, the first-fruits o… The tedded hay and corn-sheaves in… Show summer gone, ere come. The f… Sheds its loose purple bells, or i… Or when it bends beneath the up-sp…
Sonnet XIX. to a Friend, Who Asked How I Felt When the Nurse First Presented my Infant to Me

Charles! my slow heart was only sa… I scanned that face of feeble infa… For dimly on my thoughtful spirit… All I had been, and all my babe m… But when I saw it on its Mother’s…
The Devil’s Thoughts

From his brimstone bed at break of… A walking the DEVIL is gone, To visit his little snug farm of t… And see how his stock went on. Over the hill and over the dale,
Psyche

The butterfly the ancient Grecian… The soul’s fair emblem, and its on… But of the soul, escaped the slavi… Of mortal life!—For in this earth… Ours is the reptile’s lot, much to…
Hymn before Sun-rise, in the Vale of Chamouni

Hast thou a charm to stay the morn… In his steep course? So long he s… On thy bald awful head, O sovran… The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most a…
Addressed to a Young Man of Fortune Who Abandoned Himself to an Indolent and Causeless Melancholy

Hence that fantastic wantonness of… O Youth to partial Fortune vainly… To plunder’d Want’s half-shelter’… Go, and some hunger-bitten infant… Moan haply in a dying mother’s ear…
Inscription for a Fountain on a Heath

This Sycamore, oft musical with b… Such tents the Patriarchs loved!… May all its agèd boughs o’er—canop… The small round basin, which this… Keeps pure from falling leaves! L…



Top