After Coleridge
All thoughts, all passions, all delights.
Whatever stirs the mortal frame,
all are but ministers of love
and feed his sacred flame
samuel taylor coleridge
All thoughts, all passions all delights
emotions worthy of the name.
Part of the tapestry of life.
We all play the same game.
Whatever stirs the mortal frame
and wakes us from our lassitude.
Renewing our capacity
to change our attitude.
All are ministers of love.
Although we may not recognise
that love is the driving force.
Which all things underlies
and feeds his sacred flame
Ever rebellious men ask why
they should accept this as the truth
You know is loves reply.
16-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
All thoughts, all passions, all delights Whatever stirs this mortal frame All are but ministers of Love And feed His sacred flame.
quote by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Desire
Where true Love burns Desire is Love's pure flame;
It is the reflex of our earthly frame,
That takes its meaning from the nobler part,
And but translates the language of the heart.
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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.
The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene
Had blended with the lights of eve ;
And she was there, my hope, my joy,
My own dear Genevieve !
She leant against the arméd man,
The statue of the arméd knight ;
She stood and listened to my lay,
Amid the lingering light.
Few sorrows hath she of her own,
My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve !
She loves me best, whene'er I sing
The songs that make her grieve.
I played a soft and doleful air,
I sang an old and moving story--
An old rude song, that suited well
That ruin wild and hoary.
She listened with a flitting blush,
With downcast eyes and modest grace ;
For well she know, I could not choose
But gaze upon her face.
I told her of the Knight that wore
Upon his shield a burning brand ;
And that for ten long years he wooed
The Lady of the Land.
I told her how he pined : and ah !
The deep, the low, the pleading tone
With which I sang another's love,
Interpreted my own.
She listened with a flitting blush,
With downcast eyes, and modest grace ;
And she forgave me, that I gazed
Too fondly on her face !
But when I told the cruel scorn
That crazed that bold and lovely Knight,
And that he crossed the mountain-woods,
Nor rested day nor night ;
That sometimes from the savage den,
And sometimes from the darksome shade,
And sometimes starting up at once
In green and sunny glade,--
There came and looked him in the face
An angel beautiful and bright ;
And that he knew it was a Fiend,
This miserable Knight !
And that unknowing what he did,
He leaped amid a murderous band,
And saved from outrage worse than death
The Lady of the Land !
And how she wept, and clasped his knees ;
And how she tended him in vain--
And ever strove to expiate
The scorn that crazed his brain ;--
And that she nursed him in a cave ;
And how his madness went away,
When on the yellow forest-leaves
A dying man he lay ;--
His dying words--but when I reached
That tenderest strain of all the ditty,
My faultering voice and pausing harp
Disturbed her soul with pity !
All impulses of soul and sense
Had thrilled my guileless Genevieve ;
The music and the doleful tale,
The rich and balmy eve ;
And hopes, and fears that kindle hope,
An undistinguishable throng,
And gentle wishes long subdued,
Subdued and cherished long !
She wept with pity and delight,
She blushed with love, and virgin-shame ;
And like the murmur of a dream,
I heard her breathe my name.
Her bosom heaved--she stepped aside,
As conscious of my look she stepped--
The suddenly, with timorous eye
She fled to me and wept.
She half enclosed me with her arms,
She pressed me with a meek embrace ;
And bending back her head, looked up,
And gazed upon my face.
'Twas partly love, and partly fear,
And partly 'twas a bashful art,
That I might rather feel, than see,
The swelling of her heart.
I calmed her fears, and she was calm,
And told her love with virgin pride ;
And so I won my Genevieve,
My bright and beauteous Bride.
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psyche
The butterfly the ancient Grecians made
The soul's fair emblem, and its only name--
But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade
Of mortal life !--For in this earthly frame
Ours is the reptile's lot, much toil, much blame,
Manifold motions making little speed,
And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed.
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Asra
Are there two things, of all which men possess,
That are so like each other and so near,
As mutual Love seems like to Happiness?
Dear Asra, woman beyond utterance dear!
This Love which ever welling at my heart,
Now in its living fount doth heave and fall,
Now overflowing pours thro' every part
Of all my frame, and fills and changes all,
Like vernal waters springing up through snow,
This Love that seeming great beyond the power
Of growth, yet seemeth ever more to grow,
Could I transmute the whole to one rich Dower
Of Happy Life, and give it all to Thee,
Thy lot, methinks, were Heaven, thy age, Eternity!
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mortal Love
mortality does
not ask for love eternal
mortal love
cannot outlive eternity’s edge
to an infinite span
mortal love
does not ask forever
never
mortal love
makes lies, makes changes,
twists and turns
mortal love is simple
like a dimple
one tongue
to one earthly word
nope
may do
may say something else
It is only asking
That you love
One day at a time
With all allowance for change
For a wider space
Leeways
Choices
Mortal love is free
frivolous
this love of mine
Today is just enough
mortal
And so rightly deserved
A mortal like me
Also bleeds
Weeds filled
No promises, just a hug, an embrace
And
A kiss, then could be, goodbye.
Because mortal love
Dies, like a wind passing by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The rose and the bumble bee…
Love must have its tempest
Said the bee to the rose
Love must have its passions-harnessed
Before its midnights close.
Yes love must have its passion
Said the rose to the bee
Love must unburden of a fashion…
If it’s ever to be free.
But isn’t that a loves betrayal
Said the bee to the rose
Peering beneath; her petals veil
Before whisking to his toes.
Your love is truly a tempest
Said the rose to the bee
But I’m the queen most; royalist
Sir—on this we’ll both agree....
Love must have its tempest
And this is plain to see…
Why passions flame did bless
The rose and the bee.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Something Childish, But Very Natural
If I had but two little wings
And were a little feathery bird,
To you I'd fly, my dear!
But thoughts like these are idle things,
And I stay here.
But in my sleep to you I fly:
I'm always with you in my sleep!
The world is all one's own.
But then one wakes, and where am I?
All, all alone.
Sleep stays not, though a monarch bids:
So I love to wake ere break of day:
For though my sleep be gone,
Yet while 'tis dark, one shuts one's lids,
And still dreams on.
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Is Life?
Resembles Life what once was held of Light,
Too ample in itself for human sight ?
An absolute Self--an element ungrounded--
All, that we see, all colours of all shade
[Image]By encroach of darkness made ?--
Is very life by consciousness unbounded ?
And all the thoughts, pains, joys of mortal breath,
A war-embrace of wrestling Life and Death ?
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Truth Of Love
The Truth Of Love
The truth of love is a sacred flame
That burns throughout eternity,
No one else can dull it down
Or change the hour of its destiny.
The truth of love rings its voice in tender tones
And listens to all with a gentle ear,
The truth of love yields with open arms
overcoming fear and doubts with inner light
The truth of love knows no harsh demands
Nor ever rules with binding will
The truth of love cuddles with soothing hands
The darling hearts of its embrace.
poem by Masa MbathaOpasha
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Erotomania-A Delusion of Love
A moth or an innocent boy
Or incessantly talking toy
Caught helplessly
In a nature’s ploy:
Thought flame loves me
Thought dame thinks of me
Thought ma’am cares for me.
All the while
The flame
with a flickering smile
burning in a opaque
lamp of guile
with a global
all devouring vision
and feeding with oil of treason
Saw a moth adamant on
self sacrificing mission
The hypnotized moth
went near
a flame with glee
and made love making
earnest plea
And the cunning flame
Gladly reply
Yeah.
Flame knew moth had
Erotomania- A delusion of love
Soon he would be devoured
As hyena devours dove
Then,
Alluring flame-an enticing threat
Beckoned him for a embraced great
Then licking the moth with
A tongue of death
She sucked away
His laboring breath.
Lo! Comes
One more moth
on the trot,
Attired in a martyr’s coat,
Burning in a heartrending
passions hot,
Bubbling like a
love stewed broth;
Trying to cross
A death filled moat
In a love tiled
porous boat,
While vainly trying
to remain afloat
The hypnotized moth
went near
the flame with glee
and made love making's
earnest plea
And the cunning flame
Gladly reply
Yeah!
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
11/12/2008
poem by Hitesh Sheth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Should I
He stirs within me
Something I thought I had lost
So long ago
He stirs within me
Warmth deep inside
That slowly warms the soul
He stirs within me
A hunger a need
To be touched to be loved
That only he can appease these needs
That is sparkling like a flame deep within my soul
I blush as he sweetly caresses my life with his soul
I blush as he gently reminds me how much he loves me so
I blush thinking how he possible can fill my wants and needs
I blush thinking have I fallen in love once again
Dare I take that chance?
Dare I risk giving my heart?
Should I
©Copyright Kaila George 2012
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dead Poet
Who are you now?
By the same name?
By the same game?
Spark the same flame?
Shame.
Such a sweet girl all the same.
Go consume yourself at uni.
Uni, what a wonderful place
A frame to frame the endless shame.
But congratulations at the end all the same.
"your lame"
And yes I fell for your words, and your tongue, and your verse
Yes it hurt.
But now? Just disturbed is the word.
Unravel yourself, and wind your limbs round a naked flame
Get burnt.
Get burnt.
Get burnt again.
Don't gain, just play.
Just play in your new way.
You're nothing
You're the same.
It's a shame.
poem by Peggy Pollock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet XII: My Spotless Love
My spotless love hovers with white wings
About the temple of the proudest frame,
Where blaze those lights fairest of earthly things
Which clear our clouded world with brightest flame.
M'ambitious thoughts confined in her face
Affect no honor, but what she can give me;
My hopes do rest in limits of her grace;
I weigh no comfort unless she relieve me.
For she that can my heart imparadize
Holds in her fairest hand what dearest is:
My Fortune's wheel, the circle of her eyes,
Whose rolling grace deign once a turn of bliss.
All my life's sweet consists in her alone,
So much I love the most unloving one.
poem by Samuel Daniel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sacred Ground
Iced over, close your eyes. whisper the flame, it takes us higher.
Seems our world is closing around. when Im inside you, you bring me to sacred ground.
When Im inside you, you bring me to sacred ground.
Now youre the one that I want, you know its true.
Let go of everything, open up to me.
Im right beside you, Ill be your watchful eye.
I send waves of devotion over you. you take it all in and give it back, give it back again.
You bring me to sacred ground, when Im inside you.
You bring me to sacred ground.
Yes well love till theres nothing left to give...
Matching every movement, swimming in an ocean of sweat, and scent of you. it drives me to ...
You bring me to sacred ground, when Im inside you.
You bring me to sacred ground.
I know I can change your mind. give it to me the same way.
Giving it all up for love, I know that you feel the same way.
Id give it all up for you, I swear I would.
Now Im falling, falling inside ...
You bring me to sacred ground, when Im inside you.
You bring me to sacred ground.
Im inside you.
You bring me to sacred ground, when Im inside you.
You bring me to sacred ground.
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Love Increased By Suffering
'I love the Lord,' is still the strain
This heart delights to sing:
But I reply--your thoughts are vain,
Perhaps 'tis no such thing.
Before the power of love divine
Creation fades away;
Till only God is seen to shine
In all that we survey.
In gulfs of awful night we find
The God of our desires;
'Tis there he stamps the yielding mind,
And doubles all its fires.
Flames of encircling love invest,
And pierce it sweetly through;
'Tis filled with sacred joy, yet pressed
With sacred sorrow too.
Ah love! my heart is in the right--
Amidst a thousand woes,
To thee, its ever new delight,
And all its peace it owes.
Fresh causes of distress occur
Where'er I look or move;
The comforts I to all prefer
Are solitude and love.
Nor exile I nor prison fear;
Love makes my courage great;
I find a Saviour every where,
His grace in every state.
Nor castle walls, nor dungeons deep,
Exclude his quickening beams;
There I can sit, and sing, and weep,
And dwell on heavenly themes.
There sorrow, for his sake, is found
A joy beyond compare;
There no presumptuous thoughts abound,
No pride can enter there.
A Saviour doubles all my joys,
And sweetens all my pains,
His strength in my defence employs,
Consoles me and sustains.
I fear no ill, resent no wrong;
Nor feel a passion move,
When malice whets her slanderous tongue;
Such patience is in love.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Frame
Frame
I could frame my
mind to what my
thoughts become,
"words spoken"
or I could frame the
night to think my
agony is gone.
I can frame almost
anything I quess,
from a heart in grief
looking for some relief,
the mailman,
the milkman,
and everything
that passes by,
A kitten at my doorstep,
is funny isn't it?
you can frame your
way through a
dragons throat.
Anything you want,
even your heart,
your truth your lies and
even the clear skies.
The hymns I sing,
my eyelids to fall asleep,
an ability not yet control.
Everything I long for
has not yet pass through,
so I keep framing
the truth the lies and all
I can think of.
But framing is not my
escape is just a lie
I keep telling myself,
and I can keep doing
it for eons.
But not yet complete,
for I can't frame my
eyes of what I see.
©ElenaToledo2009
poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Madrigal
I will be there said my friend of a distant life
Covered in greens of a golden age, set in stone
Follow me, he sounded of dreams supreme follow me
Drifting within the glow and the after-glow of the eve
And if that firelight, I could match the inner flame
Sacred ships do sail the seventh age
Cast off your garments of fear, replace them with love
Most of all play with the game of the age
Highest of places remain all as one with you
Giving us light and the freedom of the day
And if that firelight, I could match the inner flame
Sacred ships do sail the seventh age
And have always been here
Celestial travellers have always been here with us
Set in the homes of the universe we have yet to go
Countless expansions will arrive and flow inside of us
My friend, he of fantasy, dancing with the spirit of the age
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Madrigal
I will be there said my friend of a distant life
Covered in greens of a golden age, set in stone
Follow me, he sounded of dreams supreme follow me
Drifting within the glow and the after-glow of the eve
And if that firelight, I could match the inner flame
Sacred ships do sail the seventh age
Cast off your garments of fear, replace them with love
Most of all play with the game of the age
Highest of places remain all as one with you
Giving us light and the freedom of the day
And if that firelight, I could match the inner flame
Sacred ships do sail the seventh age
And have always been here
Celestial travellers have always been here with us
Set in the homes of the universe we have yet to go
Countless expansions will arrive and flow inside of us
My friend, he of fantasy, dancing with the spirit of the age
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Resurrection of Moths
The moths worship a flame
in a circular motions,
As lovelorn stars orbit the moon
in a Venus constellation.
Chant a mythical choir in
a mystical fashion-
To appease the divine goddess
of love and passions.
A lamp of love bejeweled with
cacoethes’s emotions,
Bedding a wick woven
with wonderful impressions
And feeding it with
fiery oil of passions.
The moths resemble
the martyrs
ready to die for a nation,
Are raring for kamikaze on
spherical stations
of the flame housed in
bosom of emotions.
They aim to land on
Goddess of passions,
Mate with her in
fire walled mansion
Use their burning
flesh to graced an
auspicious occasion.
The hypnotized moths
march on drumbeats
-war chirps of crickets,
In a mind numbing night
-the starlit thickets,
With their face glowing
without fear or regret:
Chant dust to dust, ash to ash
While landing on bosom
of flaming lass
Smilingly turns
to mounds of ash.
Lo! A magical wand
of resurrection
of a golden glass,
Mysteriously moving
on mounds of ash,
Raises the seraphic
moths of the
highest class.
poem by Hitesh Sheth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!