Mary Elizabeth Coleridge - Poems

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Qualities absolutely necessary for a historian: (1) Imagination. (2) Prejudice. (3) The power of writing your own biography at the same time.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
We were young, we were merry, we were very, very wise, And the door stood open at our feast, When there passed us a woman with the West in her eyes, And a man with his back to the East.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
How often one talks not to hear what the other person has got to say, but to hear what one has got to say oneself!

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Others may woo thee, Sleep; so will not I.
Dear is each minute of my conscious breath,
Hard fate, that, ere the time be come to die,
Myself, to live, must nightly mimic death.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Eyes, what are they? Colored glass,
Where reflections come and pass.
Open windows — by them sit
Beauty, Learning, Love, and Wit.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Strange Power, I know not what thou art,
Murderer or mistress of my heart.
I know I'd rather meet the blow
Of my most unrelenting foe
Than live — as now I live — to be
Slain twenty times a day by thee.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
The brain's asleep before its time.
I would that thou hadst died outright,
And I had seen thee, in thy prime,
Go half to darkness, half to light!

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Grief, I have cursed thee often — now at last
To hate thy name I am no longer free;
Caught in thy bony arms and prisoned fast,
I love no love but thee.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge