Sonnet: Composed on a Journey Homeward

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Non-Music, Sonnet (Poetry)
Sonnet: Composed on a Journey Homeward
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Lyrics
Oft o'er my brain does that strange fancy roll  Which makes the present (while the flash doth last)  Seem a mere semblance of some unknown past, Mixed with such feelings, as perplex the soul Self-questioned in her sleep; and some have said  We liv'd, ere yet this robe of flesh we wore.  O my sweet baby! when I reach my door, If heavy looks should tell me thou art dead, (As sometimes, through excess of hope, I fear) I think that I should struggle to believe  Thou wert a spirit, to this nether sphere Sentenc'd for some more venial crime to grieve; Did'st scream, then spring to meet Heaven's quick reprieve,  While we wept idly o'er thy little bier!
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Credits
- Writers
- Samuel Taylor Coleridge