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" It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring — It mingled strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming. Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze — On me alone it blew. "
The Poetical and Dramatic Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: With a Life of ... - Page 93
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1836 - 403 pages
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Chambers's Cyclopædia of English Literature: A History, Critical ..., Volume 2

Robert Chambers, Robert Carruthers - English literature - 1876
...tune." [The ship is driven onward, but at length the curse is finally expiated. A wind springs up : It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale...strangely with my fears. Yet it felt like a welcoming. The mariner sees his native country. The angelic spirits leave the dead bodies, and appear in their...
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Chambers's Cyclopædia of English Literature: A History, Critical ..., Volume 2

Robert Chambers, Robert Carruthers - English literature - 1876
...is finally «xpiatcd. A wind springs up : It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gal- to have even a greater enjoyment of the freedom from restraint, of good cheer, The mariner sees his native country. The angelic spirits leave the dead bodies, and appear in their...
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Natural Supernaturalism: Tradition and Revolution in Romantic Literature

Meyer Howard Abrams - Literary Criticism - 1971 - 550 pages
...the sails made "A noise like of a hidden brook/ In the leafy month of June," and the wind fanned his cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring — It mingled...strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming. Having completed his literal and spiritual circumnavigation of the globe, the Mariner ends his voyage...
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Training the Speaking Voice

Virgil A. Anderson - Language Arts & Disciplines - 1977 - 496 pages
...and fall. 19. Swan swim over the sea; Swim, swan, swim. Swan swim back again; Well swam, swan. so. Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly...Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze— On me alone it blew. 21. Words are like leaves; and where they most abound, Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found....
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Towards a Romantic Conception of Nature: Coleridge's Poetry Up to 1803 : a ...

Hendrik Roelof Rookmaaker - Poetry - 1984 - 214 pages
...breathed a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made: Its path was not upon the sea, In ripple or in shade. It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale...Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze — On me alone it blew. (11. 452-463) This is the first time after his nightmare that the mariner experiences a beneficial...
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The Unknown O'Neill: Unpublished Or Unfamiliar Writings of Eugene O'Neill

Eugene O'Neill - Drama - 1988 - 434 pages
...nor motion made: Its path was not upon the sea, In ripple or in shade. It raised my hair, it fann'd my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring — It mingled...welcoming. Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sail'd softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze — On me alone it blew. A hill appears with a...
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Strange Power of Speech: Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Literary Possession

Susan Eilenberg - Literary Criticism - 1992 - 302 pages
...that blows as it comes to land has no navigational use: Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sail'd softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze — On me alone it blew. [457-60,465-68] The ship shares too the fate of the albatross, whose behavior foreshadows elements...
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Coleridge and Textual Instability: The Multiple Versions of the Major Poems

Jack Stillinger - Literary Criticism - 1994 - 272 pages
...a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made: Its path was not upon the sea, 455 In ripple or in shade. It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale...strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming. 460 Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze —...
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The Columbia Anthology of British Poetry

Carl R. Woodring, James Shapiro - Literary Criticism - 1995 - 891 pages
...breathed a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made: Its path was not upon the sea, In ripple or in shade. It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale...Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze — On me alone it blew. And the ancient Mariner beholdeth his native country. Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The light-house...
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Murder on Deck!: Shipboard & Shoreline Mystery Stories

Rosemary Herbert - Fiction - 1998 - 330 pages
...of red wine. It spread across the tablecloth, Hilda told me, in words I was to remember, like blood. Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly...Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze — On me alone it blew. It blew on me alone because I was taking a solitary stroll in the early morning before the waking hour...
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