Tuesday, January 8, 2013 at 10:47AM
Drew Wolfe

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.

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

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.

It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
"By thy long gray beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?"

The knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I trust.

No man was ever yet a great poet, without being at the same time a profound philosopher.

Blest hour! it was a luxury — to be!

Flowers are lovely; love is flower-like;
Friendship is a sheltering tree.


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