Biographia Literaria, Volume 1

Voorkant
Clarendon Press, 1907 - 334 pagina's
These two volumes are a reprint of the edition of 1817 with additional material to clarify the text. It includes Coleridge's aesthetical writings; notes on the text; and an introductory essay about his theory of imagination.

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Pagina xl - Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines How silently ! Around thee and above Deep is the air, and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge! but when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity! 0 dread and silent mount! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought: entranced in prayer 1 worshipped the Invisible alone.
Pagina lxvii - The primary Imagination I hold to be the living power and prime agent of all human perception, and as a repetition in the finite mind of the eternal act of creation in the infinite I AM...
Pagina xxxvii - But now afflictions bow me down to earth: Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth; But oh! each visitation Suspends what nature gave me at my birth, My shaping spirit of Imagination.
Pagina 202 - I consider as an echo of the former, co-existing with the conscious will, yet still as identical with the primary in the kind of its agency, and differing only in degree, and in the mode of its operation. It dissolves, diffuses, dissipates, in order to re-create: or where this process is rendered impossible, yet still at all events it struggles to idealize and to unify.
Pagina xxxviii - Lady ! we receive but what we give, And in our life alone does nature live : Ours is her wedding-garment, ours her shroud ! And would we aught behold, of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world allowed To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah ! from the soul itself must issue forth, A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the Earth...
Pagina 4 - I learnt from him, that Poetry, even that of the loftiest, and, seemingly, that of the wildest odes, had a logic of its own, as severe as that of science ; and more difficult, because more subtle, more complex, and dependent on more, and more fugitive causes.
Pagina 12 - Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.
Pagina 208 - For not to think of what I needs must feel But to be still and patient, all I can; And haply by abstruse research to steal From my own nature all the natural man — This was my sole resource, my only plan; Till that which suits a part infects the whole, And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.
Pagina 125 - Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining...
Pagina 59 - It was the union of deep feeling with profound thought ; the fine balance of truth in observing, with the imaginative faculty in modifying the objects observed ; and above all the original gift of spreading the tone, the atmosphere, and with it the depth and height of the ideal world around forms, incidents, and situations, of which, for the common view, custom had bedimmed all the lustre, had dried up the sparkle and the dew drops.

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