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The Eolian Harp
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About the author
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
2,257 books893 followersSamuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834) was an English poet, critic, and philosopher who was, along with his friend William Wordsworth, one of the founders of the Romantic Movement in England and one of the Lake Poets. He is probably best known for his poems The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Kubla Khan, as well as his major prose work Biographia Literaria.
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
June 1, 2025
“Võib-olla elusloodus koosnebki
orgaanilisist kandleist mitmes raamis,
mis võbelevad mõtteks,
kui neid puutub
suur vormiv intellektuaalne tuul,
ühtaegu kõige hing ja kõige Jumal?”
orgaanilisist kandleist mitmes raamis,
mis võbelevad mõtteks,
kui neid puutub
suur vormiv intellektuaalne tuul,
ühtaegu kõige hing ja kõige Jumal?”
February 19, 2024
In the Eolian Harp Coleridge thinks as he feels and feels as he thinks. His metaphysical sentiments are intermingled with his gentle lyricism. The leitmotif of the poem is that nature is a sequence of harps and God is the prodigious musician. The soul of God like a cerebral waft blows over every living object and brings forth the dormant music.
This poem has been classed as a 'Poem of Friendship' or Conversation. Coleridge's poems of companionship have certain shared structures which are common to this poem as well:
1) They are written in blank verse of seemingly ingenuous straightforwardness,
2) They are subtle and unmatched for supple refinement
3) The poems all originate serenely, with some notice of the time and place, then commonly pass into a mood of brooding, and finish with a return or reappearance of the original cheery manner and disposition
Wordsworth made use of the philosophy of this poem in ‘Tintern Abbey’
This poem has been classed as a 'Poem of Friendship' or Conversation. Coleridge's poems of companionship have certain shared structures which are common to this poem as well:
1) They are written in blank verse of seemingly ingenuous straightforwardness,
2) They are subtle and unmatched for supple refinement
3) The poems all originate serenely, with some notice of the time and place, then commonly pass into a mood of brooding, and finish with a return or reappearance of the original cheery manner and disposition
Wordsworth made use of the philosophy of this poem in ‘Tintern Abbey’
October 3, 2022
The Eolian Harp.
“My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclined
Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is
To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o’ergrown
….”
(lines 1 - 3)
“My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclined
Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is
To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o’ergrown
….”
(lines 1 - 3)
June 14, 2023
COOLeridge 😎 (I still don’t have any clue what he’s talking ab)
October 29, 2023
it doesn't seem like they had a bad marriage
June 21, 2024
Zahvaljivanje Bogu za dragu, život i čistotu.
December 29, 2025
“methinks, it should have been impossible
not to love all things in a world so filled ;
where the breeze warbles, and the mute still air,
is music slumbering on her instrument.” 💌
not to love all things in a world so filled ;
where the breeze warbles, and the mute still air,
is music slumbering on her instrument.” 💌
January 31, 2026
boring af
June 21, 2015
My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclined
Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is
To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o'ergrown
With white-flower'd Jasmin, and the broad-leav'd Myrtle,
(Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love!)
And watch the clouds, that late were rich with light,
Slow saddening round, and mark the star of eve
Serenely brilliant (such should Wisdom be)
Shine opposite! How exquisite the scents
Snatch'd from yon bean-field! and the world is hushed!
The stilly murmur of the distant Sea
Tells us of silence.
And that simplest Lute,
Placed length-ways in the clasping casement, hark!
How by the desultory breeze caress'd,
Like some coy maid half yielding to her lover,
It pours such sweet upbraiding, as must needs
Tempt to repeat the wrong! And now, its strings
Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes
Over delicious surges sink and rise,
Such a soft floating witchery of sound
As twilight Elfins make, when they at eve
Voyage on gentle gales from Fairy-Land,
Where Melodies round honey-dripping flowers,
Footless and wild, like birds of Paradise,
Nor pause, nor perch, hovering on untam'd wing!
O! the one Life within us and abroad,
Which meets all motion and becomes its soul,
A light in sound, a sound-like power in light,
Rhythm in all thought, and joyance every where—
Methinks, it should have been impossible
Not to love all things in a world so fill'd;
Where the breeze warbles, and the mute still air
Is Music slumbering on her instrument.
And thus, my Love! as on the midway slope
Of yonder hill I stretch my limbs at noon,
Whilst through my half-clos'd eye-lids I behold
The sunbeams dance, like diamonds, on the main.
And tranquil muse upon tranquillity;
Full many a thought uncall'd and undetain'd,
And many idle flitting phantasies,
Traverse my indolent and passive brain,
As wild and various as the random gales
That swell and flutter on this subject Lute!
And what if all of animated nature
Be but organic Harps diversely fram'd,
That tremble into thought, as o'er them sweeps
Plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze,
At once the Soul of each, and God of all?
But thy more serious eye a mild reproof
Darts, O belovéd Woman! nor such thoughts
Dim and unhallow'd dost thou not reject,
And biddest me walk humbly with my God.
Meek Daughter in the family of Christ!
Well hast thou said and holily disprais'd
These shapings of the unregenerate mind;
Bubbles that glitter as they rise and break
On vain Philosophy's aye-babbling spring.
For never guiltless may I speak of him,
The Incomprehensible! save when with awe
I praise him, and with Faith that inly feels;
Who with his saving mercies healéd me,
A sinful and most miserable man,
Wilder'd and dark, and gave me to possess
Peace, and this Cot, and thee, heart-honour'd Maid!
Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is
To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o'ergrown
With white-flower'd Jasmin, and the broad-leav'd Myrtle,
(Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love!)
And watch the clouds, that late were rich with light,
Slow saddening round, and mark the star of eve
Serenely brilliant (such should Wisdom be)
Shine opposite! How exquisite the scents
Snatch'd from yon bean-field! and the world is hushed!
The stilly murmur of the distant Sea
Tells us of silence.
And that simplest Lute,
Placed length-ways in the clasping casement, hark!
How by the desultory breeze caress'd,
Like some coy maid half yielding to her lover,
It pours such sweet upbraiding, as must needs
Tempt to repeat the wrong! And now, its strings
Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes
Over delicious surges sink and rise,
Such a soft floating witchery of sound
As twilight Elfins make, when they at eve
Voyage on gentle gales from Fairy-Land,
Where Melodies round honey-dripping flowers,
Footless and wild, like birds of Paradise,
Nor pause, nor perch, hovering on untam'd wing!
O! the one Life within us and abroad,
Which meets all motion and becomes its soul,
A light in sound, a sound-like power in light,
Rhythm in all thought, and joyance every where—
Methinks, it should have been impossible
Not to love all things in a world so fill'd;
Where the breeze warbles, and the mute still air
Is Music slumbering on her instrument.
And thus, my Love! as on the midway slope
Of yonder hill I stretch my limbs at noon,
Whilst through my half-clos'd eye-lids I behold
The sunbeams dance, like diamonds, on the main.
And tranquil muse upon tranquillity;
Full many a thought uncall'd and undetain'd,
And many idle flitting phantasies,
Traverse my indolent and passive brain,
As wild and various as the random gales
That swell and flutter on this subject Lute!
And what if all of animated nature
Be but organic Harps diversely fram'd,
That tremble into thought, as o'er them sweeps
Plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze,
At once the Soul of each, and God of all?
But thy more serious eye a mild reproof
Darts, O belovéd Woman! nor such thoughts
Dim and unhallow'd dost thou not reject,
And biddest me walk humbly with my God.
Meek Daughter in the family of Christ!
Well hast thou said and holily disprais'd
These shapings of the unregenerate mind;
Bubbles that glitter as they rise and break
On vain Philosophy's aye-babbling spring.
For never guiltless may I speak of him,
The Incomprehensible! save when with awe
I praise him, and with Faith that inly feels;
Who with his saving mercies healéd me,
A sinful and most miserable man,
Wilder'd and dark, and gave me to possess
Peace, and this Cot, and thee, heart-honour'd Maid!
October 20, 2016
Read as part of The Norton Anthology of Poetry
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews