Song

Song

Tho` veiled in spires of myrtle-wreath,
Love is a sword that cuts its sheath,
And thro` the clefts, itself has made,
We spy the flashes of the Blade !
But thro` the clefts, itself has made,
We likewise see Love`s flashing blade,
By rust consumed or snapt in twain :
And only Hilt and Stump remain.

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Samuel Taylor Coleridge - contains some of his works, a time line and links to a biography

Samuel Taylor Coleridge Poems - many many poems, listed by date published when known

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - biography link

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