Chapter 7 of 7 · 58999 words · ~295 min read

VII.

This Hermit good lives in that wood Which slopes down to the Sea. How loudly his sweet voice he rears! He loves to talk with Marineres 550 That come from a far Contrée.

He kneels at morn and noon and eve-- He hath a cushion plump: It is the moss, that wholly hides The rotted old Oak-stump. 555

The Skiff-boat ne'rd: I heard them talk, "Why, this is strange, I trow! "Where are those lights so many and fair "That signal made but now?

"Strange, by my faith! the Hermit said-- 560 "And they answer'd not our cheer. "The planks look warp'd, and see those sails "How thin they are and sere! "I never saw aught like to them "Unless perchance it were 565

"The skeletons of leaves that lag "My forest-brook along: "When the Ivy-tod is heavy with snow, "And the Owlet whoops to the wolf below "That eats the she-wolfs young. 570

"Dear Lord! it has a fiendish look-- (The Pilot made reply) "I am afear'd--"Push on, push on! "Said the Hermit cheerily.

The Boat came closer to the Ship, 575 But I ne spake ne stirr'd! The Boat came close beneath the Ship, And strait a sound was heard!

Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread: 580 It reach'd the Ship, it split the bay; The Ship went down like lead.

Stunn'd by that loud and dreadful sound, Which sky and ocean smote: Like one that had been seven days drown'd 585 My body lay afloat: But, swift as dreams, myself I found Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl, where sank the Ship, The boat spun round and round: 590 And all was still, save that the hill Was telling of the sound.

I mov'd my lips: the Pilot shriek'd And fell down in a fit. The Holy Hermit rais'd his eyes 595 And pray'd where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, Laugh'd loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro, 600 "Ha! ha!" quoth he--"full plain I see, "The devil knows how to row."

And now all in mine own Countrée I stood on the firm land! The Hermit stepp'd forth from the boat, 605 And scarcely he could stand.

"O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy Man! The Hermit cross'd his brow-- "Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say "What manner man art thou?" 610

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd With a woeful agony, Which forc'd me to begin my tale And then it left me free.

Since then at an uncertain hour, 615 Now oftimes and now fewer, That anguish comes and makes me tell My ghastly aventure.

I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; 620 The moment that his face I see I know the man that must hear me; To him my tale I teach.

What loud uproar bursts from that door! The Wedding-guests are there; 625 But in the Garden-bower the Bride And Bride-maids singing are: And hark the little Vesper-bell Which biddeth me to prayer.

O Wedding-guest! this soul hath been 630 Alone on a wide wide sea: So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.

O sweeter than the Marriage-feast, 'Tis sweeter far to me 635 To walk together to the Kirk With a goodly company.

To walk together to the Kirk And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, 640 Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And Youths, and Maidens gay.

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou wedding-guest! He prayeth well who loveth well, 645 Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best who loveth best, All things both great and small: For the dear God, who loveth us, He made and loveth all. 650

The Marinere, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is hoar, Is gone; and now the wedding-guest Turn'd from the bridegroom's door.

He went, like one that hath been stunn'd 655 And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man He rose the morrow morn.

FOOTNOTES:

[1030:1] First published in _Lyrical Ballads_, 1798, pp. [1]-27; republished in _Lyrical Ballads_, 1800, vol. i; _Lyrical Ballads_, 1802, vol. i; _Lyrical Ballads_, 1805, vol. i; reprinted in _The Poems of Samuel Taylor Coleridge_, Appendix, pp. 404-29, London: E. Moxon, Son, and Company, [1870]; reprinted in _Lyrical Ballads_ edition of 1798, edited by Edward Dowden, LL D., 1890, in _P. W._, 1893, Appendix E, pp. 512-20, and in _Lyrical Ballads_ . . . 1798, edited by Thomas Hutchinson, 1898. The text of the present issue has been collated with that of an early copy of _Lyrical Ballads_, 1798 (containing _Lewti_, pp. 63-7), presented by Coleridge to his sister-in-law, Miss Martha Fricker. The lines were not numbered in _L. B._, 1798.

LINENOTES:

[63] And an] As if MS. corr. by S. T. C.

[75] Corrected in the Errata to fog-smoke white.

[83] [*weft*] [S. T. C.]

[179] For "those" read "these" Errata, p. [221], L. B. 1798.

[After 338] * * * * * * MS., L. B. 1798.

THE RAVEN

[As printed in the _Morning Post_, March 10, 1798.]

[Vide _ante_, p. 169.]

Under the arms of a goodly oak-tree, There was of Swine a large company. They were making a rude repast, Grunting as they crunch'd the mast. Then they trotted away: for the wind blew high-- 5 One acorn they left, ne more mote you spy. Next came a Raven, who lik'd not such folly; He belong'd, I believe, to the witch MELANCHOLY! Blacker was he than the blackest jet; Flew low in the rain; his feathers were wet. 10 He pick'd up the acorn and buried it strait, By the side of a river both deep and great. Where then did the Raven go? He went high and low-- O'er hill, o'er dale did the black Raven go! 15 Many Autumns, many Springs; Travell'd he with wand'ring wings; Many Summers, many Winters-- I can't tell half his adventures. At length he return'd, and with him a she; 20 And the acorn was grown a large oak-tree. They built them a nest in the topmost bough, And young ones they had, and were jolly enow. But soon came a Woodman in leathern guise: His brow like a pent-house hung over his eyes. 25 He'd an axe in his hand, and he nothing spoke, But with many a hem! and a sturdy stroke, At last he brought down the poor Raven's own oak. His young ones were kill'd, for they could not depart, And his wife she did die of a broken heart! 30 The branches from off it the Woodman did sever! And they floated it down on the course of the River: They saw'd it to planks, and it's rind they did strip, And with this tree and others they built up a ship. The ship, it was launch'd; but in sight of the land, 35 A tempest arose which no ship could withstand. It bulg'd on a rock, and the waves rush'd in fast-- The auld Raven flew round and round, and caw'd to the blast. He heard the sea-shriek of their perishing souls-- They be sunk! O'er the top-mast the mad water rolls. 40 The Raven was glad that such fate they did meet, They had taken his all, and REVENGE WAS SWEET!

LEWTI; OR THE CIRCASSIAN'S LOVE-CHANT[1049:1]

[Vide _ante_, p. 253.]

(1)

[Add. MSS. 27,902.]

High o'er the silver rocks I roved To forget the form I loved In hopes fond fancy would be kind And steal my Mary from my mind T'was twilight and the lunar beam 5 Sailed slowly o'er Tamaha's stream As down its sides the water strayed Bright on a rock the moonbeam playe[d] It shone, half-sheltered from the view By pendent boughs of tressy yew 10 True, true to love but false to rest, So fancy whispered to my breast, So shines her forehead smooth and fair Gleaming through her sable hair I turned to heaven--but viewed on high 15 The languid lustre of her eye The moons mild radiant edge I saw Peeping a black-arched cloud below Nor yet its faint and paly beam Could tinge its skirt with yellow gleam 20 I saw the white waves o'er and o'er Break against a curved shore Now disappearing from the sight Now twinkling regular and white Her mouth, her smiling mouth can shew 25 As white and regular a row Haste Haste, some God indulgent prove And bear me, bear me to my love Then might--for yet the sultry hour Glows from the sun's oppressive power 30 Then might her bosom soft and white Heave upon my swimming sight As yon two swans together heave Upon the gently-swelling wave Haste--haste some God indulgent prove 35 And bear--oh bear me to my love.

(2)

[Add. MSS. 35,343.]

THE CIRCASSIAN'S LOVE-CHAUNT [*Wild Indians*]

High o'er the rocks at night I rov'd [*silver*] To forget the form I lov'd. Image of LEWTI! from my mind [*Cora*] Depart! for LEWTI is not kind! [*Cora*] Bright was the Moon: the Moon's bright beam 5 Speckled with many a moving shade, Danc'd upon Tamaha's stream; But brightlier on the Rock it play'd, The Rock, half-shelter'd from my view By pendent boughs of tressy Yew! 10 True to Love, but false to Rest, My fancy whisper'd in my breast-- So shines my Lewti's forehead fair Gleaming thro' her sable hair, Image of LEWTI! from my mind 15 [*Cora*] Depart! for LEWTI is not kind. [*Cora*]

I saw a cloud of whitest hue; Onward to the Moon it pass'd! Still brighter and more bright it grew With floating colours not a few, 20 Till it reach'd the Moon at last.

LEWTI; OR THE CIRCASSIAN'S LOVE-CHANT

(3)

[Add. MSS. 35,343, f. 3 recto.]

High o'er the rocks at night I rov'd To forget the form I lov'd. Image of LEWTI! from my mind Depart: for LEWTI is not kind. 25

Bright was the Moon: the Moon's bright bea[m] Speckled with many a moving shade, Danc'd upon TAMAHA'S stream; But brightlier on the Rock it play'd, The Rock, half-shelter'd from my view 30 By pendent boughs of tressy Yew! True to Love, but false to Rest, My fancy whisper'd in my breast-- So shines my LEWTI'S forehead fair Gleaming thro' her sable hair! 35 Image of LEWTI! from my mind Depart--for LEWTI is not kind.

I saw a Cloud of whitest hue-- Onward to the Moon it pass'd. Still brighter and more bright it grew 40 With floating colours not a few, Till it reach'd the Moon at last: Then the Cloud was wholly bright With a rich and amber light! [*deep*] And so with many a hope I seek, 45 And so with joy I find my LEWTI: And even so my pale wan cheek Drinks in as deep a flush of Beauty Image of LEWTI! leave my mind If Lewti never will be kind! 50

Away the little Cloud, away. Away it goes--away so soon [*alone*] Alas! it has no power to stay: It's hues are dim, it's hues are grey Away it passes from the Moon. 55 And now tis whiter than before-- As white as my poor cheek will be, When, LEWTI! on my couch I lie A dying Man for Love of thee! [*Thou living Image*] Image of LEWTI in my mind, 60 Methinks thou lookest not [*kin*] unkind!

FOOTNOTES:

[1049:1] The first ten lines of MS. version (1) were first published in _Note 44_ of _P. W._, 1893, p. 518, and the MS. as a whole is included in _Coleridge's Poems_, A Facsimile Reproduction of The Proofs and MSS., &c., 1899, pp. 132-4. MSS. (2) and (3) are now printed for the first time.

INTRODUCTION TO THE TALE OF THE DARK LADIE[1052:1]

[Vide _ante_, p. 330.]

TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING POST.

SIR,

The following Poem is the Introduction to a somewhat longer one, for which I shall solicit insertion on your next open day. The use of the Old Ballad word, _Ladie_, for Lady, is the only piece of obsoleteness in it; and as it is professedly a tale of ancient times, I trust, that 'the affectionate lovers of venerable antiquity' (as Camden says) will grant me their pardon, and perhaps may be induced to admit a force and propriety in it. A heavier objection may be adduced against the Author, that in these times of fear and expectation, when novelties _explode_ around us in all directions, he should presume to offer to the public a silly tale of old fashioned love; and, five years ago, I own, I should have allowed and felt the force of this objection. But, alas! explosion has succeeded explosion so rapidly, that novelty itself ceases to appear new; and it is possible that now, even a simple story, wholly unspired [? inspired] with politics or personality, may find some attention amid the hubbub of Revolutions, as to those who have resided a long time by the falls of Niagara, the lowest whispering becomes distinctly audible.

S. T. COLERIDGE.

O leave the Lily on its stem; O leave the Rose upon the spray; O leave the Elder-bloom, fair Maids! And listen to my lay.

A Cypress and a Myrtle bough, 5 This morn around my harp you twin'd, Because it fashion'd mournfully Its murmurs in the wind.

And now a Tale of Love and Woe, A woeful Tale of Love I sing: 10 Hark, gentle Maidens, hark! it sighs And trembles on the string.

But most, my own dear Genevieve! It sighs and trembles most for thee! O come and hear the cruel wrongs 15 Befel the dark Ladie!

Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Genevieve! She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. 20

All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame.

O ever in my waking dreams, 25 I dwell upon that happy hour, When midway on the Mount I sate Beside the ruin'd Tow'r.

The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve, 30 And she was there, my hope! my joy! My own dear Genevieve!

She lean'd against the armed Man The statue of the armed Knight-- She stood and listen'd to my harp, 35 Amid the ling'ring light.

I play'd a sad and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story, An old rude song, that fitted well The ruin wild and hoary. 40

She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace: For well she knew, I could not choose But gaze upon her face.

I told her of the Knight that wore 45 Upon his shield a burning brand. And how for ten long years he woo'd The Ladie of the Land:

I told her, how he pin'd, and ah! The deep, the low, the pleading tone, 50 With which I sang another's love, Interpreted my own!

She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace. And she forgave me, that I gaz'd 55 Too fondly on her face!

But when I told the cruel scorn, That craz'd this bold and lovely Knight; And how he roam'd the mountain woods, Nor rested day or night; 60

And how he cross'd the Woodman's paths, Thro' briars and swampy mosses beat; How boughs rebounding scourg'd his limbs, And low stubs gor'd his feet.

How sometimes from the savage den, 65 And sometimes from the darksome shade, And sometimes starting up at once, In green and sunny glade;

There came and look'd him in the face An Angel beautiful and bright, 70 And how he knew it was a Fiend, This mis'rable Knight!

And how, unknowing what he did, He leapt amid a lawless band, And sav'd from outrage worse than death 75 The Ladie of the Land.

And how she wept, and clasp'd his knees, And how she tended him in vain, And meekly strove to expiate The scorn that craz'd his brain; 80

And how she nurs'd him in a cave; And how his madness went away, When on the yellow forest leaves A dying man he lay;

His dying words--but when I reach'd 85 That tenderest strain of all the ditty, My fault'ring voice and pausing harp Disturb'd her soul with pity.

All impulses of soul and sense Had thrill'd my guiltless Genevieve-- 90 The music and the doleful tale, The rich and balmy eve;

And hopes and fears that kindle hope, An undistinguishable throng; And gentle wishes long subdu'd, 95 Subdu'd and cherish'd long.

She wept with pity and delight-- She blush'd with love and maiden shame, And like the murmurs of a dream, I heard her breathe my name. 100

I saw her bosom heave and swell, Heave and swell with inward sighs-- I could not choose but love to see Her gentle bosom rise.

Her wet cheek glow'd; she stept aside, 105 As conscious of my look she stept; Then suddenly, with tim'rous eye, She flew to me, and wept;

She half-inclos'd me with her arms-- She press'd me with a meek embrace; 110 And, bending back her head, look'd up, And gaz'd upon my face.

'Twas partly love, and partly fear, And partly 'twas a bashful art, That I might rather feel than see, 115 The swelling of her heart.

I calm'd her fears, and she was calm, And told her love with virgin pride; And so I won my Genevieve, My bright and beaut'ous bride. 120

And now once more a tale of woe, A woeful tale of love, I sing: For thee, my Genevieve! it sighs, And trembles on the string.

When last I sang the cruel scorn 125 That craz'd this bold and lonely Knight, And how he roam'd the mountain woods, Nor rested day or night;

I promis'd thee a sister tale Of Man's perfidious cruelty: 130 Come, then, and hear what cruel wrong Befel the Dark Ladie.

_End of the Introduction._

FOOTNOTES:

[1052:1] Published in the _Morning Post_, Dec. 21, 1799. Collated with two MSS.--_MS. (1)_; _MS. (2)_--in the British Museum [Add. MSS. 27,902]. See _Coleridge's Poems_, A Facsimile of the Proofs, &c., edited by the late James Dykes Campbell, 1899. _MS. 1_ consists of thirty-two stanzas (unnumbered), written on nine pages: _MS. 2_ (which begins with stanza 6, and ends with stanza 30) of fourteen stanzas (unnumbered) written on four pages.

LINENOTES:

_Title_--The Dark Ladiè. MS. B. M. (1).

[2] Rose upon] Rose-bud on MS. B. M. (1).

[3] fair] dear erased MS. (1).

[7] mournfully] sad and sweet MS. (1).

[8] in] to MS. (1).

[16] Ladie] Ladié MS. (2).

[20] The song that makes her grieve. MS. (1).

[21-4]

Each thought, each feeling of the Soul, All lovely sights, each tender, name, All, all are ministers of Love, That stir our mortal frame.

MS. (1).

[22] All, all that stirs this mortal frame MS. B. M. (2).

[24] feed] fan MS. (2).

[25]

O ever in my lonely walk

erased MS. (1).

In lonely walk and noontide dreams

MS. (1).

O ever when I walk alone

erased MS. (1).

[26]

I feed upon that blissful hour

MS. (1).

I feed upon that hour of Bliss

erased MS. (1).

That ruddy eve that blissful hour

erased MS. (1).

[26] dwell] feed MS. (2).

[27]

we [*sate*] When midway on the mount I stood

MS. (1).

When we too stood upon the Hill

erased MS. (1).

[29]

The Moonshine stole upon the ground

erased MS. (1).

The Moon [*be blended on*] the ground

MS. (1).

[30] Had] And erased MS. (1).

[31] was there] stood near (was there _erased_) MS. (1).

[33-6]

Against a grey stone rudely carv'd, The statue of an armed Knight, in She lean'd [*the*] melancholy mood, [*And*] To watch'd the lingering Light

MS. (1).

[33-4]

[*She lean'd against*] a [*chissold stone*] [*tall*] [*The statue of a*]

MS. (1).

[34] the] an MS. (1) [Stanza 10, revised.]

[37] sad] soft MSS. (1, 2). doleful] mournful erased MS. (1).

[39] An] And MS. (2).

rude] wild erased MS. (1).

[41-4]

With flitting Blush and downcast eyes, In modest melancholy grace The Maiden stood: perchance I gaz'd Too fondly on her face.

Erased MS. (1).

[45-8] om. MS. (1).

[49] [*I gaz'd and when*] I sang of love MS. (1).

[53-6]

With flitting Blush and downcast eyes and With downcast eyes _in_ modest grace for [*She listen'd; and perchance I gaz'd*] Too fondly on her face.

MS. (1).

[55] And] Yet MS. (1).

[57] told] sang MS. (1).

[59] roam'd] cross'd MS. (1).

[60] or] nor MS. (1).

[61-4] om. MS. (1).]

[65] How sometimes from the hollow Trees MS. (1).

[69-72]

look'd There came and [*star'd*] him in the face An[d] Angel beautiful and bright, And how he knew it was a fiend And yell'd with strange affright.

MS. (1).

[74] lawless] murderous MS. (1).

[77] clasp'd] kiss'd MS. (1).

[79] meekly] how she MS. (1).

[87] fault'ring] trembling MS. (1) erased.

[90] guiltless] guileless MS. (1).

[Between 96 and 97]

And while midnight [*While*] Fancy like the [*nuptial*] Torch That bends and rises in the wind Lit up with wild and broken lights The Tumult of her mind.

MS. (1) erased.

[99]

And like the murmur of a dream

MSS. (1, 2).

_And_ [*in a*] murmur [*faint and sweet*]

MS. (1) erased.

[100]

[*She half pronounced my name.*] She breathed her Lover's name.

MS. (1) erased.

[101-4]

I saw her gentle Bosom heave Th' inaudible and frequent sigh; modest And ah! the [*bashful*] Maiden mark'd The wanderings of my eye[s]

MS. (1) erased.

[105-8] om. MS. (1).

[105] cheek] cheeks MS. (2).

[108] flew] fled MS. (2).

[109-16]

side And closely to my [*heart*] she press'd And ask'd me with her swimming eyes might That I [*would*] rather feel than see Her gentle Bosom rise.--

_Or_

side And closely to my [*heart*] she press'd And closer still with bashful art-- That I might rather feel than see The swelling of her Heart.

MS. (1) erased.

[111] And] Then MS. (2) erased.

[117]

And now serene, serene and chaste But soon in calm and solemn tone

MS. (1) erased.

[118] And] She MS. (1) erased. virgin] maiden MSS. (1, 2).

[120] bright] dear MS. (1) erased. beaut'ous] lovely MS. (1) erased.

[125-8]

When last I sang of Him whose heart Was broken by a woman's scorn-- And how he cross'd the mountain woods All frantic and forlorn

MS. (1).

[129] sister] moving MS. (1).

[131] wrong] wrongs MS. (1).

[132] Ladie] Ladié MS. (2).

[After 132] _The Dark Ladiè._ MS. (1).

THE TRIUMPH OF LOYALTY.[1060:1]

[Vide _ante_, p. 421.]

AN HISTORIC DRAMA

FIVE ACTS.

FIRST PERFORMED WITH UNIVERSAL APPLAUSE AT THE THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY LANE, ON SATURDAY, FEBRUARY THE 7TH, 1801.

APOECIDES. Quis hoc scit factum?

EPIDICUS. Ego ita esse factum dico.

PERIPHANES. Scin' tu istuc?

EPIDICUS. Scio.

PERIPHANES. Qui tu scis?

EPIDICUS. Quia ego vidi.

PERIPHANES. [Ipse vidistine [Tragediam?]] Nimis factum bene!

EPIDICUS. Sed vestita, aurata, ornata, ut lepide! ut concinne! ut nove! [Proh Dii immortales! tempestatem (plausuum Populus) nobis nocte hac misit!][1060:2]

(Plaut. _Epidicus_. Act 2. Scen. 2, ll. 22 sqq.)

LONDON.

PRINTED FOR T. N. LONGMAN AND REES, PATERNOSTER-ROW.

1801.

FOOTNOTES:

[1060:1] Now first published from an MS. in the British Museum (Add. MSS. 34,225). The _Triumph of Loyalty_, 'a sort of dramatic romance' (see _Letter to Poole_, December 5, 1800; _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 343), was begun and left unfinished in the late autumn of 1800. An excerpt (ll. 277-358) was revised and published as 'A Night Scene. A Dramatic Fragment,' in _Sibylline Leaves_ (1817), vide _ante_, pp. 421-3. The revision of the excerpt (ll. 263-349) with respect to the order and arrangement of its component parts is indicated by asterisks, which appear to be contemporary with the MS. I have, therefore, in printing the MS., followed the revised and not the original order of these lines. Again, in the hitherto unpublished portion of the MS. (ll. 1-263) I have omitted rough drafts of passages which were rewritten, either on the same page or on the reverse of the leaf.

[1060:2] The words enclosed in brackets are not to be found in the text. They were either invented or adapted by Coleridge _ad hoc_. The text of the passage as a whole has been reconstructed by modern editors.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

Earl Henry MR. KEMBLE

Don Curio MR. C. KEMBLE

Sandoval MR. BARRYMORE

Alva, the Chancellor MR. AICKIN

Barnard, Earl Henry's Groom of the Chamber MR. SUETT

Don Fernandez MR. BANNISTER, JUN.

The Governor of the State Prison MR. DAVIS

Herreras (Oropeza's Uncle) and three Conspirators MESSRS. PACKER, WENTWORTH, MATHEW, and GIBBON

Officers and Soldiers of Earl Henry's Regiment.

The Queen of Navarre MRS. SIDDONS

Donna Oropeza MRS. POWELL

Mira, her attendant MISS DECAMP

Aspasia, a singer MRS. CROUCH

Scene, partly at the Country seat of Donna Oropeza, and partly in Pampilona [_sic_], the Capital of Navarre.

THE TRIUMPH OF LOYALTY

## ACT I

## SCENE I. _A cultivated Plain, skirted on the Left by a Wood. The

Pyrenees are visible in the distance. Small knots of Soldiers all in the military Dress of the middle Ages are seen passing across the Stage. Then_

_Enter EARL HENRY and SANDOVAL, both armed._

_Sandoval._ A delightful plain this, and doubly pleasant after so long and wearisome a descent from the Pyranees [_sic_]. Did you not observe how our poor over wearied horses mended their pace as soon as they reached it?

_Earl Henry._ I must entreat your forgiveness, gallant 5 Castilian! I ought ere this to have bade you welcome to my native Navarre.

_Sandoval._ Cheerily, General! Navarre has indeed but ill repaid your services, in thus recalling you from the head of an army which you yourself had collected and disciplined. 10 But the wrongs and insults which you have suffered----

_Earl Henry._ Deserve my thanks, Friend! In the sunshine of Court-favor I could only _believe_ that I loved my Queen and my Country: now I _know_ it. But why name I my Country or my Sovereign? I owe all my Wrongs to the private enmity of 15 the Chancellor.

_Sandoval._ Heaven be praised, you have atchieved [_sic_] a delicious revenge upon him!--that the same Courier who brought the orders for your recall carried back with him the first tidings of your Victory--it was exquisite good fortune! 20

_Earl Henry._ Sandoval! my gallant Friend! Let me not deceive you. To you I have vowed an undisguised openness. The gloom which overcast me, was occasioned by causes of less public import.

_Sandoval._ Connected, I presume, with that Mansion, the 25 spacious pleasure grounds of which we noticed as we were descending from the mountain. Lawn and Grove, River and Hillock--it looked within these high walls, like a World of itself.

_Earl Henry._ This Wood scarcely conceals these high walls 30 from us. Alas! I know the place too well. . . . Nay, why too well?--But wherefore spake you, Sandoval, of this Mansion? What know you?

_Sandoval._ Nothing. Therefore I spake of it. On our descent from the mountain I pointed it out to you and asked to whom 35 it belonged--you became suddenly absent, and answered me only by looks of Disturbance and Anxiety.

_Earl Henry._ That Mansion once belonged to Manric [_sic_], Lord of Valdez.

_Sandoval._ Alas, poor Man! the same, who had dangerous 40 claims to the Throne of Navarre.

_Earl Henry._ Claims?--Say rather, pretensions--plausible only to the unreasoning Multitude.

_Sandoval._ Pretensions then (_with bitterness_).

_Earl Henry._ Bad as these were, the means he employed to 45 give effect to them were still worse. He trafficked with France against the independence of his Country. He was a traitor, my Friend! and died a traitor's death. His two sons suffered with him, and many, (I fear, too many) of his adherents.

_Sandoval._ Earl Henry! (_a pause_) If the sentence were just, 50 why was not the execution of it public. . . . It is reported, that they were--but no! I will not believe it--the honest soul of my friend would not justify so foul a deed.

_Earl Henry._ Speak plainly--what is reported?

_Sandoval._ That they were all assassinated by order of the 55 new Queen.

_Earl Henry._ Accursed be the hearts that framed and the tongues that scattered the Calumny!--The Queen was scarcely seated on her throne; the Chancellor, who had been her Guardian, exerted a pernicious influence over her 60 judgement--she was taught to fear dangerous commotions in the Capital, she was intreated to prevent the bloodshed of the deluded citizens, and thus overawed she reluctantly consented to permit the reinforcement of an obsolete law, and----

_Sandoval._ They were not assassinated then?---- 65

_Earl Henry._ Why these bitter tones to me, Sandoval? Can a law assassinate? Don Manrique [_sic_] and his accomplices drank the sleepy poison adjudged by that law in the State Prison at Pampilona. At that time I was with the army on the frontiers of France. 70

_Sandoval._ Had you been in the Capital----

_Earl Henry._ I would have pledged my life on the safety of a public Trial and a public Punishment.

_Sandoval._ Poisoned! The Father and his Sons!--And this, Earl Henry, was the first act of that Queen, whom you idolize! 75

_Earl Henry._ No, Sandoval, No! This was not _her_ act. She roused herself from the stupor of alarm, she suspended _in opposition to the advice of her council_, all proceedings against the inferior partisans of the Conspiracy; she facilitated the escape of Don Manrique's brother, and to Donna Oropeza, his 80 daughter and only surviving child, she restored all her father's possessions, nay became herself her Protectress and Friend. These were the acts, these the first acts of my royal Mistress.

_Sandoval._ And how did Donna Oropeza receive these favors?

_Earl Henry._ Why ask you that? Did they not fall on her, 85 like heavenly dews?

_Sandoval._ And will they not rise again, like an earthly mist? What is Gratitude opposed to Ambition, filial revenge, and Woman's rivalry--what is it but a cruel Curb in the mouth of a fiery Horse, maddening the fierce animal whom it cannot 90 restrain? Forgive me, Earl Henry! I meant not to move you so deeply.

_Earl Henry._ Sandoval, you have uttered that in a waking hour which having once dreamt, I feared the return of sleep lest I should dream it over again. My Friend (_his Voice 95 trembling_) I woo'd the daughter of Don Manrique, _but_ we are interrupted.

_Sandoval._ It is Fernandez.

_Earl Henry (struggling with his emotions)._ A true-hearted old fellow---- 100

_Sandoval._ As splenetic as he is brave.

_Enter_ FERNANDEZ.

_Earl Henry._ Well, my ancient! how did you like our tour through the mountains. (_EARL HENRY sits down on the seat by the woodside._)

_Fernandez._ But little, General! and my faithful charger 105 Liked it still less. The field of battle in the level plain By Fontarabia was more to our taste.

_Earl Henry._ Where is my brother, Don Curio! Have you Seen him of late?

_Fernandez._ Scarcely, dear General! 110 For by my troth I have been laughing at him Even till the merry tears so filled my eyes That I lost sight of him.

_Sandoval._ But wherefore, Captain.

_Fernandez._ He hath been studying speeches with fierce gestures; Speeches brimfull of wrath and indignation, 115 The which he hopes to vent in open council: And, in the heat and fury of this fancy He grasp'd your groom of the Chamber by the throat Who squeaking piteously, Ey! quoth your brother, I cry you Mercy, Fool! Hadst been indeed 120 The Chancellor, I should have strangled thee.

_Sandoval._ Ha, ha! poor Barnard!

_Fernandez._ What you know my Gentleman, My Groom of the Chamber, my Sieur Barnard, hey?

_Sandoval._ I know him for a barren-pated coxcomb.

_Fernandez._ But very weedy, Sir! in worthless phrases, 125 A sedulous eschewer of the popular And the colloquial--one who seeketh dignity I' th' paths of circumlocution! It would have Surpris'd you tho', to hear how nat'rally He squeak'd when Curio had him by the throat. 130

_Sandoval._ I know him too for an habitual scorner Of Truth.

_Fernandez._ And one that lies more dully than Old Women dream, without pretence of fancy, Humour or mirth, a most disinterested, Gratuitous Liar.

_Earl Henry._ Ho! enough, enough! 135 Spare him, I pray you, were't but from respect To the presence of his Lord.

_Sandoval._ I stand reprov'd.

_Fernandez._ I too, but that I know our noble General Maintains him near his person, only that If he should ever go in jeopardy 140 Of being damn'd (as he's now persecuted) For his virtue and fair sense, he may be sav'd By the supererogation of this Fellow's Folly and Worthlessness.----

_Earl Henry._ Hold, hold, good Ancient! Do you not know that this Barnard saved my life? 145 Well, but my brother----

_Fernandez._ He will soon be here. I swear by this, my sword, dear General. I swear he has a Hero's soul--I only Wish I could communicate to him My gift of governing the spleen.--Then he 150 Has had his colors, the drums too of the Regiment All put in cases--O, that stirs the Soldiery.

_Earl Henry._ Impetuous Boy!

_Fernandez._ Nay, Fear not for them, General. The Chancellor, no doubt, will take good care To let their blood grow cool on garrison duty. 155

_Sandoval._ Earl Henry! Frown not thus upon Fernandez; 'Tis said, and all the Soldiery believe it, That the five Regiments who return with you Will be dispers'd in garrisons and castles, And other Jails of honourable name. 160 So great a crime it is to have been present In duty and devotion to a Hero!

_Fernandez._ What now? What now? The politic Chancellor is The Soldier's friend, and rather than not give Snug pensions to brave Men, he'll overlook 165 All small disqualifying circumstances Of youth and health, keen eye and muscular limb, He'll count our scars, and set them down for maims. And gain us thus all privileges and profits Of Invalids and superannuate veterans. 170

_Earl Henry._ 'Tis but an idle rumour--See! they come.

_Enter_ BARNARD _and a number of_ Soldiers, _their Colours wound up, and the Drums in Cases, and after them_ DON CURIO. _All pay the military Honors to the General. During this time_ FERNANDEZ _has hurried up in front of the Stage_.

_Enter DON CURIO._

_Don Curio (advancing to EARL HENRY)._ Has Barnard told you? Insult on insult! by mine honor, Brother! (_BARNARD goes beside CURIO._) And by our Father's soul they mean to saint you, Having first prov'd your Patience more than mortal. 175

_Earl Henry._ Take heed, Don Curio! lest with greater right They scoff my Brother for a choleric boy. What insult then?

_Don Curio._ Our Friend, the Chancellor, Welcomes you home, and shares the common joy In the most happy tidings of your Victory: 180 But as to your demand of instant audience From the Queen's Royal Person,--'tis rejected!

_Sandoval._ Rejected?

_Barnard (making a deep obeisance)._ May it please the Earl!

_Earl Henry._ Speak, Barnard.

_Barnard._ The noble Youth, your very valiant brother, And wise as valiant (_bowing to DON CURIO who puffs at him_) rightly doth insinuate 185 Fortune deals nothing singly--whether Honors Or Insults, whether it be Joys or Sorrows, They crowd together on us, or at best Drop in in quick succession.

_Fernandez (mocking him)._ 'Ne'er rains it, but it pours,' or, at the best, 190 'More sacks upon the mill.' This fellow's a Perpetual plagiarist from his Grandmother, and How slily in the parcel wraps [he] up The stolen goods!

_Earl Henry._ Be somewhat briefer, Barnard.

_Barnard._ But could I dare insinuate to your Brother 195 A fearless Truth, Earl Henry--it were this: Even Lucifer, Prince of the Air, hath claims Upon our justice.

_Fernandez._ Give the Devil his Due! Why, thou base Lacquerer of worm-eaten proverbs, [And] wherefore dost thou not tell us at once 200 What the Chancellor said to thee?

_Barnard_ (_looking round superciliously at_ FERNANDEZ). The Queen hath left the Capital affecting Rural retirement, but 'I will hasten' (Thus said the Chancellor) 'I myself will hasten And lay before her Majesty the Tidings 205 Both of Earl Henry's Victory and return. She will vouchsafe, I doubt not, to re-enter Her Capital, without delay, and grant The wish'd for Audience with all public honour.'

_Don Curio._ A mere Device, I say, to pass a slight on us. 210

_Fernandez (to himself)._ To think on't. Pshaw! A fellow, that must needs Have been decreed an Ass by acclamation, Had he not looked so very like an Owl. And he to---- (_turns suddenly round, and faces BARNARD who had even then come close beside him_). Boo!----Ah! is it you, Sieur Barnard!

_Barnard._ No other, Sir!

_Fernandez._ And is it not reported, 215 That you once sav'd the General's life?

_Barnard._ 'Tis certain!

_Fernandez._ Was he asleep? And were the hunters coming And did you bite him on the nose?

_Barnard._ What mean you?

_Fernandez._ That was the way in which the Flea i' th' Fable Once sav'd the Lion's life.

_Earl Henry._ 'Tis well. 220 The Sun hath almost finish'd his Day's Travels; We too will finish ours. Go, gallant Comrades, And at the neighbouring Mansion, for us all, Claim entertainment in your General's name.

_Exeunt_ Soldiers, &c. _As they are leaving the Stage._

_Fernandez_ (_to_ BARNARD). A word with you! You act the Chancellor 225 Incomparably well.

_Barnard._ Most valiant Captain, Vouchsafe a manual union.

_Fernandez_ (_griping_ [sic] _his hand with affected fervor_). 'Tis no wonder, Don Curio should mistook [_sic_] you for him.

_Barnard._ Truly, The Chancellor, and I, it hath been notic'd Are of one stature.

_Fernandez._ And Don Curio's _Gripe_ too 230 Had lent a guttural Music to your voice, A sort of bagpipe Buz, that suited well Your dignity of utterance.

_Barnard (simpering courteously)._ Don Fernandez, Few are the storms that bring unmingled evil.

_Fernandez (mocking him)._ 'Tis an ill wind, that blows no good, Sieur Barnard! [_Exeunt._ 235

_DON CURIO lingering behind._

_Don Curio._ I have offended you, my brother.

_Earl H._ Yes! For you've not learnt the noblest part of valour, To suffer and obey. Drums put in cases, Colours wound up--what means this Mummery? We are sunk low indeed, if wrongs like our's 240 Must seek redress in impotent Freaks of Anger. (This way, Don Sandoval) of boyish anger----

(_Walks with SANDOVAL to the back of the Stage._)

_Don Curio (to himself)._ Freaks! freaks! But what if they have sav'd from bursting The swelling heart of one, whose Cup of Hope Was savagely dash'd down--even from his lips?-- 245 Permitted just to see the face of War, Then like a truant boy, scourgd home again One Field my whole Campaign! One glorious Battle To madden one with Hope!--Did he not pause Twice in the fight, and press me to his breastplate, 250 And cry, that all might hear him, Well done, brother! No blessed Soul, just naturalized in Heaven, Pac'd ever by the side of an Immortal More proudly, Henry! than I fought by thine-- Shame on these tears!--this, too, is boyish anger! [_Exit._ 255

_EARL HENRY and SANDOVAL return to the front of the stage._

_Earl Henry._ I spake more harshly to him, than need was.

_Sandoval._ Observ'd you how he pull'd his beaver down-- Doubtless to hide the tears, he could not check.

_Earl Henry._ Go, sooth [_sic_] him, Friend!--And having reach'd the Castle Gain Oropeza's private ear, and tell her 260 Where you have left me.

(_As SANDOVAL is going_)

Nay, stay awhile with me. I am too full of dreams to meet her now.

_Sandoval._ You lov'd the daughter of Don Manrique?

_Earl Henry._ Loved?

_Sandoval._ Did you not say, you woo'd her?

_Earl Henry._ Once I lov'd Her whom I dar'd not woo!----

_Sandoval._ And woo'd perchance 265 One whom you lov'd not!

_Earl Henry._ O I were most base Not loving Oropeza. True, I woo'd her Hoping to heal a deeper wound: but she Met my advances with an empassion'd Pride That kindled Love with Love. And when her Sire 270 Who in his dream of Hope already grasp'd The golden circlet in his hand, rejected My suit, with Insult, and in memory Of ancient Feuds, pour'd Curses on my head, Her Blessings overtook and baffled them. 275 But thou art stern, and with unkindling Countenance Art inly reasoning whilst thou listenest to me.

_Sandoval._ Anxiously, Henry! reasoning anxiously. But Oropeza--

_Earl Henry._ Blessings gather round her! Within this wood there winds a secret passage, 280 Beneath the walls, which open out at length Into the gloomiest covert of the Garden.-- The night ere my departure to the Army, She, nothing trembling, led me through that gloom, And to the covert by a silent stream, 285 Which, with one star reflected near its marge, Was the sole object visible around me. The night so dark, so close, the umbrage o'er us! No leaflet stirr'd;--yet pleasure hung upon us, The gloom and stillness of the balmy night-air. 290 A little further on an arbor stood, Fragrant with flowering Trees--I well remember What an uncertain glimmer in the Darkness Their snow-white Blossoms made--thither she led me, To that sweet bower! Then Oropeza trembled-- 295 I heard her heart beat--if 'twere not my own.

_Sandoval._ A rude and searing note, my friend!

_Earl Henry._ Oh! no! I have small memory of aught but pleasure. The inquietudes of fear, like lesser Streams Still flowing, still were lost in those of Love: 300 So Love grew mightier from the Pear, and Nature, Fleeing from Pain, shelter'd herself in Joy. The stars above our heads were dim and steady, Like eyes suffus'd with rapture. Life was in us: We were all life, each atom of our Frames 305 A living soul--I vow'd to die for her: With the faint voice of one who, having spoken, Relapses into blessedness, I vow'd it: That solemn Vow, a whisper scarcely heard, A murmur breath'd against a lady's Cheek. 310 Oh! there is Joy above the name of Pleasure, Deep self-possession, an intense Repose. No other than as Eastern Sages feign, The God, who floats upon a Lotos Leaf, Dreams for a thousand ages; then awaking, 315 Creates a world, and smiling at the bubble, Relapses into bliss. Ah! was that bliss Fear'd as an alien, and too vast for man? For suddenly, intolerant of its silence, Did Oropeza, starting, grasp my forehead. 320 I caught her arms; the veins were swelling on them. Thro' the dark Bower she sent a hollow voice;-- 'Oh! what if all betray me? what if thou?' I swore, and with an inward thought that seemed The unity and substance of my Being, 325 I swore to her, that were she red with guilt, I would exchange my unblench'd state with hers.-- Friend! by that winding passage, to the Bower I now will go--all objects there will teach me Unwavering Love, and singleness of Heart. 330 Go, Sandoval! I am prepar'd to meet her-- Say nothing of me--I myself will seek her-- Nay, leave me, friend! I cannot bear the torment And Inquisition of that scanning eye.--

[_Earl Henry retires into the wood._

_Sandoval (alone)._ O Henry! always striv'st thou to be great 335 By thine own act--yet art thou never great But by the Inspiration of great Passion. The Whirl-blast comes, the desert-sands rise up And shape themselves; from Heaven to Earth they stand, As though they were the Pillars of a Temple, 340 Built by Omnipotence in its own honour! But the Blast pauses, and their shaping spirit Is fled: the mighty Columns were but sand, And lazy Snakes trail o'er the level ruins! I know, he loves the Queen. I know she is 345 His Soul's first love, and this is ever his nature-- To his first purpose, his soul toiling back Like the poor storm-wreck'd [sailor] to his Boat, Still swept away, still struggling to regain it. [_Exit._

* * * * *

_Herreras._ He dies, that stirs! Follow me this instant. 350

(First Conspirator _takes his arrow, snaps it, and throws it on the ground. The two others do the same._)

_Herreras._ Accursed cowards! I'll go myself, and make sure work (_drawing his Dagger_).

(HERRERAS _strides towards the arbor, before he reaches it, stops and listens and then returns hastily to the front of the stage, as he turns his Back to the Arbor_, EARL HENRY _appears, watching the_ Conspirators, _and enters the Arbor unseen_.)

_First Conspirator._ Has she _seen_ us think you?

_The Mask._ No! she has not _seen_ us; but she heard us distinctly.

_Herreras._ There was a rustling in the wood--go, all of 355 you, stand on the watch--towards the passage.

_A Voice from the Arbor._ Mercy! Mercy! Tell me, why you murder me.

_Herreras._ I'll do it first. (_Strides towards the Arbor, EARL HENRY rushes out of it._) 360

_The Mask._ Jesu Maria. (_They all three fly, EARL HENRY attempts to seize HERRERAS, who defending himself retreats into the Covert follow'd by the EARL. THE QUEEN comes from out the arbor, veiled--stands listening a moment, then lifts up her veil, with folded hands assumes the attitude of Prayer, and after a momentary silence breaks into audible soliloquy._)

_The Queen._ I pray'd to thee, All-wonderful! And thou Didst make my very Prayer the Instrument, By which thy Providence sav'd me. Th' armed Murderer Who with suspended breath stood listening to me, Groan'd as I spake thy name. In that same moment, 365 O God! thy Mercy shot the swift Remorse That pierc'd his Heart. And like an Elephant Gor'd as he rushes to the first assault, He turn'd at once and trampled his Employers. But hark! (_drops her veil_)--O God in Heaven! they come again. 370

(_EARL HENRY returns with the Dagger in his hand._)

_Earl Henry (as he is entering)._ The violent pull with which I seiz'd his Dagger Unpois'd me and I fell.

[END OF THE FRAGMENT.]

LINENOTES:

[After 88] in which all her wrongs will appear twofold--(or) in a mist of which her Wrongs will wander, magnified into giant shapes. MS. erased.

[110] After General! And yet I have not stirred from his side. That is to say-- MS. erased.

[Before 211]

Fortune! Plague take her for a blind old Baggage! That such a patch as Barnard should have had The Honour to have sav'd our General's life. That Barnard! that mock-man! that clumsy forgery Of Heaven's Image. Any other heart But mine own would have turn'd splenetic to think of it.

MS. erased.

[269] an empassion'd S. L.: empassioned 1834.

[276] unkindling] unkindly S. L., 1834.

[281] open] opens S. L.

[285] the] that. a] that S. L. (corr. in Errata, p. [xi]) S. L.

[288] o'er] near S. L. (corr. in Errata, p. [xi]) S. L.

[289-290]

No leaflet stirr'd; the air was almost sultry; So deep, so dark, so close, the umbrage o'er us! No leaflet stirr'd, yet pleasure hung upon

S. L.

[310] Cheek] Ear S. L.

[After 312]

Deep repose of bliss we lay No other than as Eastern Sages gloss, The God who floats upon a Lotos leaf Dreams for a thousand ages, then awaking Creates a World, then loathing the dull task Relapses into blessedness, when an omen Screamed from the Watch-tower--'twas the Watchman's cry, And Oropeza starting.

MS. (alternative reading).

[313] feign] paint S. L.

[Before 314] Sandoval (_with a sarcastic smile_) S. L.

[314-16] Compare Letter to Thelwall, Oct. 16, 1797, Letters of S. T. C., 1895, i. 229.]

[317]

bliss.--

_Earl Henry._ Ah! was that bliss

S. L.

[319] intolerant] impatient S. L.

[325] unity and] purpose and the S. L.

[After 327]

Even as a Herdsboy mutely plighting troth Gives his true Love a Lily for a Rose.

MS. erased.

[334] Inquisition] keen inquiry S. L.

[Before 335]

Earl Henry thou art dear to me--perchance For these follies; since the Health of Reason, Our would-be Sages teach, engenders not The Whelks and Tumours of particular Friendship.

MS. erased.

[339] Heaven to Earth] Earth to Heaven S. L.

CHAMOUNY; THE HOUR BEFORE SUNRISE

A HYMN

[Vide _ante_, p. 376.]

[As published in _The Morning Post_, Sept. 11, 1802]

Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star In his steep course--so long he seems to pause On thy bald awful head, O Chamouny! The Arvè and Arveiron at thy base Eave ceaselessly; but thou, dread mountain form, 5 Resist from forth thy silent sea of pines How silently! Around thee, and above, Deep is the sky, and black: transpicuous, deep, An ebon mass! Methinks thou piercest it As with a wedge! But when I look again, 10 It seems thy own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity. O dread and silent form! I gaz'd upon thee, Till thou, still present to my bodily eye, Did'st vanish from my thought. Entranc'd in pray'r, 15 I worshipp'd the INVISIBLE alone. Yet thou, meantime, wast working on my soul, E'en like some deep enchanting melody, So sweet, we know not, we are list'ning to it. But I awoke, and with a busier mind, 20 And active will self-conscious, offer now Not, as before, involuntary pray'r And passive adoration!-- Hand and voice, Awake, awake! and thou, my heart, awake! Awake ye rocks! Ye forest pines, awake! 25 Green fields, and icy cliffs! All join my hymn! And thou, O silent mountain, sole and bare, O blacker, than the darkness, all the night, And visited, all night, by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink-- 30 Companion of the morning star at dawn, Thyself Earth's rosy star, and of the dawn Co-herald! Wake, O wake, and utter praise! Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in earth? Who fill'd thy countenance with rosy light? 35 Who made thee father of perpetual streams? And you, ye five wild torrents, fiercely glad, Who call'd you forth from Night and utter Death? From darkness let you loose, and icy dens, Down those precipitous, black, jagged rocks 40 For ever shatter'd, and the same for ever! Who gave you your invulnerable life, Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, Unceasing thunder, and eternal foam! And who commanded, and the silence came-- 45 'Here shall the billows stiffen, and have rest?'

Ye ice-falls! ye that from yon dizzy heights Adown enormous ravines steeply slope, Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopp'd at once amid their maddest plunge! 50 Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious, as the gates of Heav'n, Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who with lovely flow'rs Of living blue spread garlands at your feet? 55 GOD! GOD! The torrents like a shout of nations, Utter! The ice-plain bursts, and answers GOD! GOD, sing the meadow-streams with gladsome voice, And pine groves with their soft, and soul-like sound, The silent snow-mass, loos'ning, thunders GOD! 60 Ye dreadless flow'rs! that fringe th' eternal frost! Ye wild goats, bounding by the eagle's nest! Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain blast! Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds! Ye signs and wonders of the element, 65 Utter forth, GOD! and fill the hills with praise!

And thou, O silent Form, alone and bare, Whom, as I lift again my head bow'd low In adoration, I again behold, And to thy summit upward from thy base 70 Sweep slowly with dim eyes suffus'd by tears, Awake, thou mountain form! rise, like a cloud! Rise, like a cloud of incense, from the earth! Thou kingly spirit thron'd among the hills, Thou dread ambassador from Earth to Heav'n-- 75 Great hierarch, tell thou the silent sky, And tell the stars, and tell the rising sun, Earth with her thousand voices calls on God! +ESTÊSE.+

DEJECTION: AN ODE[1076:1]

[Vide _ante_, p. 362.]

[As first printed in the _Morning Post_, October 4, 1802.]

"Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon With the Old Moon in her arms; And I fear, I fear, my Master dear, We shall have a deadly storm."[1076:2] BALLAD OF SIR PATRICK SPENCE.

LINENOTES:

Motto_--2 Moon] one Letter to S.

[4] There will be, &c. Letter to S.

DEJECTION:

AN ODE, WRITTEN APRIL 4, 1802.

Well! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made The grand Old ballad of SIR PATRICK SPENCE, This night; so tranquil now, will not go hence Unrous'd by winds, that ply a busier trade Than those, which mould yon cloud, in lazy flakes, 5 Or the dull sobbing draft, that drones and rakes Upon the strings of this Oeolian lute, Which better far were mute. For lo! the New Moon, winter-bright! And overspread with phantom light, 10 (With swimming phantom light o'erspread, But rimm'd and circled by a silver thread) I see the Old Moon in her lap, foretelling The coming on of rain and squally blast: And O! that even now the gust were swelling, 15 And the slant night-show'r driving loud and fast! Those sounds which oft have rais'd me, while they aw'd, And sent my soul abroad, Might now perhaps their wonted impulse give, Might startle this dull pain, and make it move and live! 20

A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear, A stifled, drowsy, unimpassion'd grief, Which finds no nat'ral outlet, no relief, In word, or sigh, or tear-- O EDMUND! in this wan and heartless mood, 25 To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd, All this long eve, so balmy and serene, Have I been gazing on the Western sky, And its peculiar tint of yellow-green: And still I gaze--and with how blank an eye! 30 And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars, That give away their motion to the stars; Those stars, that glide behind them, or between, Now sparkling, now bedimm'd, but always seen; Yon crescent moon, as fix'd as if it grew, 35 In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue, A boat becalm'd! a lovely sky-canoe! I see them all so excellently fair-- I _see_, not _feel_ how beautiful they are!

III

My genial spirits fail; 40 And what can these avail, To lift the smoth'ring weight from off my breast? It were a vain endeavour, Though I should gaze for ever On that green light that lingers in the west: 45 I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.

O EDMUND! we receive but what we give, And in _our_ life alone does Nature live: Ours is her wedding-garment, ours her shroud! 50 And would we aught behold, of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world, _allow'd_ To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth, A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud 55 Enveloping the earth-- And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element! O pure of heart! Thou need'st not ask of me 60 What this strong music in the soul may be? What, and wherein it doth exist, This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist, This beautiful and beauty-making pow'r? Joy, virtuous EDMUND! joy that ne'er was given, 65 Save to the pure, and in their purest hour, Joy, EDMUND! is the spirit and the pow'r, Which wedding Nature to us gives in dow'r, A new Earth and new Heaven, Undream'd of by the sensual and the proud-- 70 JOY is the sweet voice, JOY the luminous cloud-- We, we ourselves rejoice! And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight, All melodies the echoes of that voice, All colours a suffusion from that light. 75

Yes, dearest EDMUND, yes! There was a time that, tho' my path was rough, This joy within me dallied with distress, And all misfortunes were but as the stuff Whence fancy made me dreams of happiness: 80 For hope grew round me, like the twining vine, And fruits, and foliage, not my own, seem'd mine. But now afflictions bow me down to earth: Nor care I, that they rob me of my mirth, But oh! each visitation 85 Suspends what nature gave me at my birth, My shaping spirit of imagination.

[The Sixth and Seventh Stanzas omitted.]

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

VIII

O wherefore did I let it haunt my mind This dark distressful dream? I turn from it, and listen to the wind 90 Which long has rav'd unnotic'd. What a scream Of agony, by torture, lengthen'd out, That lute sent forth! O wind, that rav'st without, Bare crag, or mountain-tairn[1079:1], or blasted tree, Or pine-grove, whither woodman never clomb, 95 Or lonely house, long held the witches' home, Methinks were fitter instruments for thee, Mad Lutanist! who, in this month of show'rs, Of dark-brown gardens, and of peeping flow'rs, Mak'st devil's yule, with worse than wintry song, 100 The blossoms, buds, and tim'rous leaves among. Thou Actor, perfect in all tragic sounds! Thou mighty Poet, ev'n to frenzy bold! What tell'st thou now about? 'Tis of the rushing of a host in rout, 105 With many groans of men, with smarting wounds-- At once they groan with pain, and shudder with the cold! But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence! And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd, With groans, and tremulous shudderings--all is over! 110 It tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud-- A tale of less affright. And temper'd with delight, As EDMUND'S self had fram'd the tender lay-- 'Tis of a little child, 115 Upon a lonesome wild Not far from home; but she hath lost her way-- And now moans low, in utter grief and fear; And now screams loud, and hopes to make her mother _hear_!

'Tis midnight, and small thoughts have I of sleep; 120 Full seldom may my friend such vigils keep! Visit him, gentle Sleep, with wings of healing, And may this storm be but a mountain-birth, May all the stars hang bright above his dwelling, Silent, as though they _watch'd_ the sleeping Earth! 125 With light heart may he rise, Gay fancy, cheerful eyes, And sing his lofty song, and teach me to rejoice! O EDMUND, friend of my devoutest choice, O rais'd from anxious dread and busy care, 130 By the immenseness of the good and fair Which thou see'st everywhere, Joy lifts thy spirit, joy attunes thy voice, To thee do all things live from pole to pole, Their life the eddying of thy living soul! 135 O simple spirit, guided from above, O lofty Poet, full of life and love, Brother and friend of my devoutest choice, Thus may'st thou ever, evermore rejoice! +ESTÊSE.+

FOOTNOTES:

[1076:1] Collated with the text of the poem as sent to W. Sotheby in a letter dated July 19, 1802 (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 379-84).

[1076:2] In the letter of July 19, 1802, the Ode is broken up and quoted in parts or fragments, illustrative of the mind and feelings of the writer. 'Sickness,' he explains, 'first forced me into _downright metaphysics_. For I believe that by nature I have more of the poet in me. In a poem written during that dejection, to Wordsworth, I thus expressed the thought in language more forcible than harmonious.' Then follow lines 76-87 of the text, followed by lines 87-98 of the text first published in _Sibylline Leaves_ ('For not to think of what I needs must feel,' &c.). He then reverts to the 'introduction of the poem':--'The first lines allude to a stanza in the Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence: "Late, late yestreen I saw the new moon with the old one in her arms: and I fear, I fear, my master dear, there will be a deadly Storm."' This serves as a motto to lines 1-75 and 129-39 of the first draft of the text. Finally he 'annexes as a _fragment_ a few lines (ll. 88-119) on the "Oeolian Lute", it having been introduced in its dronings in the first stanzas.'

[1079:1] Tairn, a small lake, generally, if not always, applied to the lakes up in the mountains, and which are the feeders of those in the vallies. This address to the wind will not appear extravagant to those who have heard it at night, in a mountainous country. [Note in _M. P._]

LINENOTES:

[2] grand] dear Letter to S.

[5] those] that Letter to S. cloud] clouds Letter to S.

[12] by] with Letter to S.

[17-20] om. Letter to S.

[22] stifled] stifling Letter to S.

[Between 24 and 25]

This William, well thou knowest, Is that sore evil which I dread the most, And oftnest suffer. In this heartless mood, To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd, That pipes within the larch-tree, not unseen, The larch, that pushes out in tassels green Its bundled leafits, woo'd to mild delights, By all the tender sounds and gentle sights, Of this sweet primrose-month, and vainly woo'd O dearest Poet, in this heartless mood.

Letter to S.

[37] a lovely sky-canoe] thy own sweet sky-canoe Letter to S. [_Note._ The reference is to the Prologue to 'Peter Bell'.]

[48] Edmund] Wordsworth Letter to S.

[58] potent] powerful Letter to S.

[65] virtuous Edmund] blameless poet Letter to S.

[67] Edmund] William Letter to S.

[71] om. Letter to S.

[74] the echoes] an echo Letter to S.

[76] Edmund] poet Letter to S.

[77] that] when Letter to S.

[78] This] The Letter to S.

[82] fruits] fruit Letter to S.

After 87 six lines 'For not to think', &c., are inserted after a row of asterisks. The direction as to the omission of the Sixth and Seventh Stanzas is only found in the M. P.

[88] O] Nay Letter to S.

[93] That lute sent out! O thou wild storm without Letter to S.

[98] who] that Letter to S.

[106] of] from Letter to S.

[109] Again! but all that noise Letter to S.

[111] And it has other sounds, less fearful and less loud Letter to S.

[114] Edmund's self] thou thyself Letter to S.

[120-8] om. Letter to S.

[129-39]

Calm steadfast spirit, guided from above, O Wordsworth! friend of my devoutest choice, Great son of genius! full of light and love, Thus, thus, dost thou rejoice. To thee do all things live, from pole to pole, Their life the eddying of thy living Soul! Brother and friend of my devoutest choice, Thus may'st thou ever, evermore rejoice!

Letter to S.

[_Note._ In the letter these lines follow line 75 of the text of the _M. P._]

TO W. WORDSWORTH[1081:1]

(_Vide ante_, p. 403.)

LINES COMPOSED, FOR THE GREATER PART ON THE NIGHT, ON WHICH HE FINISHED THE RECITATION OF HIS POEM (IN THIRTEEN BOOKS) CONCERNING THE GROWTH AND HISTORY OF HIS OWN MIND

JAN{RY}, 1807. COLE-ORTON, NEAR ASHBY DE LA ZOUCH.

O friend! O Teacher! God's great Gift to me! Into my heart have I receiv'd that Lay, More than historic, that prophetic Lay, Wherein (high theme by Thee first sung aright) Of the Foundations and the Building-up 5 Of thy own Spirit, thou hast lov'd to tell What may be told, to th' understanding mind Revealable; and what within the mind May rise enkindled. Theme as hard as high! Of Smiles spontaneous, and mysterious Feard; 10 (The First-born they of Reason, and Twin-birth) Of Tides obedient to external Force, And _currents_ self-determin'd, as might seem, Or by interior Power: of Moments aweful, Now in thy hidden Life; and now abroad, 15 Mid festive Crowds, _thy_ Brows too garlanded, A Brother of the Feast: of _Fancies_ fair, Hyblæan Murmurs of poetic Thought, Industrious in its Joy, by lilied Streams Native or outland, Lakes and famous Hills! 20 Of more than Fancy, of the Hope of Man Amid the tremor of a Realm aglow-- Where France in all her Towns lay vibrating, Ev'n as a Bark becalm'd on sultry seas Beneath the voice from Heaven, the bursting Crash 25 Of Heaven's immediate thunder! when no Cloud Is visible, or Shadow on the Main! Ah! soon night roll'd on night, and every Cloud Open'd its eye of Fire: and Hope aloft Now flutter'd, and now toss'd upon the Storm 30 Floating! Of Hope afflicted, and struck down, Thence summon'd homeward--homeward to thy Heart, Oft from the Watch-tower of Man's absolute Self, With Light unwaning on her eyes, to look Far on--herself a Glory to behold, 35 The Angel of the Vision! Then (last strain!) Of _Duty_, chosen Laws controlling choice, Virtue and Love! An Orphic Tale indeed, A Tale divine of high and passionate Thoughts To their own music chaunted!

Ah great Bard! 40 Ere yet that last Swell dying aw'd the Air, With stedfast ken I view'd thee in the Choir Of ever-enduring Men. The truly Great Have all one Age, and from one visible space Shed influence: for they, both power and act, 45 Are permanent, and Time is not with them, Save as it worketh for them, they in it. Nor less a sacred Roll, than those of old, And to be plac'd, as they, with gradual fame Among the Archives of mankind, thy Work 50 Makes audible a linked Song of Truth, Of Truth profound a sweet continuous Song Not learnt, but native, her own natural Notes! Dear shall it be to every human Heart. To me how more than dearest! Me, on whom 55 Comfort from Thee and utterance of thy Love Came with such heights and depths of Harmony Such sense of Wings uplifting, that the Storm Scatter'd and whirl'd me, till my Thoughts became A bodily Tumult! and thy faithful Hopes, 60 Thy Hopes of me, dear Friend! by me unfelt Were troublous to me, almost as a Voice Familiar once and more than musical To one cast forth, whose hope had seem'd to die, A Wanderer with a worn-out heart, [_sic_] 65 Mid Strangers pining with untended Wounds!

O Friend! too well thou know'st, of what sad years The long suppression had benumb'd my soul, That even as Life returns upon the Drown'd, Th' unusual Joy awoke a throng of Pains-- 70 Keen Pangs of LOVE, awakening, as a Babe, Turbulent, with an outcry in the Heart: And Fears self-will'd, that shunn'd the eye of Hope, And Hope, that would not know itself from Fear: Sense of pass'd Youth, and Manhood come in vain; 75 And Genius given, and knowledge won in vain; And all, which I had cull'd in Wood-walks wild, And all, which patient Toil had rear'd, and all, Commune with Thee had open'd out, but Flowers Strew'd on my Corse, and borne upon my Bier, 80 In the same Coffin, for the self-same Grave!

That way no more! and ill beseems it me, Who came a Welcomer in Herald's guise Singing of Glory and Futurity, To wander back on such unhealthful Road 85 Plucking the Poisons of Self-harm! and ill Such Intertwine beseems triumphal wreaths Strew'd before thy Advancing! Thou too, Friend! O injure not the memory of that Hour Of thy communion with my nobler mind 90 By pity or grief, already felt too long! Nor let my words import more blame than needs. The Tumult rose and ceas'd: for Peace is nigh Where Wisdom's Voice has found a list'ning Heart. Amid the howl of more than wintry Storms 95 The Halcyon hears the voice of vernal Hours, Already on the wing! Eve following eve, Dear tranquil Time, when the sweet sense of Home Becomes most sweet! hours for their own sake hail'd, And more desir'd, more precious, for thy song! 100 In silence list'ning, like a devout Child, My soul lay passive; by thy various strain Driven as in surges now, beneath the stars, With momentary Stars of my own Birth, Fair constellated Foam still darting off 105 Into the darkness! now a tranquil Sea Outspread and bright, yet swelling to the Moon!

And when O Friend! my Comforter! my Guide! Strong in thyself and powerful to give strength! Thy long sustained Lay finally clos'd, 110 And thy deep Voice had ceas'd (yet thou thyself Wert still before mine eyes, and round us both That happy Vision of beloved Faces! All, whom I deepliest love, in one room all!), Scarce conscious and yet conscious of it's Close, 115 I sate, my Being blended in one Thought, (Thought was it? or aspiration? or Resolve?) Absorb'd, yet hanging still upon the sound: And when I rose, I found myself in Prayer! S. T. COLERIDGE.

FOOTNOTES:

[1081:1] Now first printed from an original MS. in the possession of Mr. Gordon Wordsworth.

LINENOTES:

[37] controlling] ? impelling, ? directing.

YOUTH AND AGE

[Vide _ante_, p. 439.]

_MS. I_

10 SEPT. 1823. WEDNESDAY MORNING, 10 O'CLOCK

On the Tenth Day of September, Eighteen hundred Twenty Three, Wednesday morn, and I remember Ten on the Clock the Hour to be [_The Watch and Clock do both agree_] 5

An _Air_ that whizzed +dia enkephalou+ (right across the diameter of my Brain) exactly like a Hummel Bee, _alias_ Dumbeldore, the gentleman with Rappee Spenser (_sic_), with bands of Red, and Orange Plush Breeches, close by my ear, at once sharp and burry, right over the summit of Quantock [item of Skiddaw 10 (_erased_)] at earliest Dawn just between the Nightingale that I stopt to hear in the Copse at the Foot of Quantock, and the first Sky-Lark that was a Song-Fountain, dashing up and sparkling to the Ear's eye, in full column, or ornamented Shaft of sound in the order of Gothic Extravaganza, out of Sight, over 15 the Cornfields on the Descent of the Mountain on the other side--out of sight, tho' twice I beheld its _mute_ shoot downward in the sunshine like a falling star of silver:--

ARIA SPONTANEA

Flowers are lovely, Love is flower-like, Friendship is a shelt'ring tree-- 20 O the Joys, that came down shower-like, Of Beauty, Truth, and Liberty, When I was young, ere I was old! [_O Youth that wert so glad, so bold, What quaint disguise hast thou put on? 25 Would'st make-believe that thou art gone? O Youth! thy Vesper Bell_] has not yet toll'd.

Thou always were a Masker bold-- What quaint Disguise hast now put on? To make believe that thou art gone! 30

O Youth, so true, so fair, so free, Thy Vesper-bell hath not yet toll'd, Thou always, &c.

* * * * *

Ah! was it not enough, that Thou In Thy eternal Glory should outgo me? 35 Would'st thou not Grief's sad Victory allow

* * * * *

Hope's a Breeze that robs the Blossoms Fancy feeds, and murmurs the Bee----

* * * * *

_MS. II_

Verse, that Breeze mid blossoms straying Where Hope clings feeding like a Bee. Both were mine: Life went a Maying With Nature, Hope, and Poesy, When I was young. _When_ I was young! ah woeful When! Ah for the Change twixt now and then! This House of Life, not built with hands Where now I sigh, where once I sung.

_Or_ [This snail-like House, not built with hands, This Body that does me grievous wrong.]

O'er Hill and dale and sounding Sands. How lightly then it flash'd along-- Like those trim Boats, unknown of yore, On Winding Lakes and Rivers wide, That ask no aid of Sail or Oar, That fear no spite of Wind or Tide. Pencil { Nought car'd this Body for wind or weather, { When youth and I liv'd in't together.

Flowers are lovely, Love is flower-like; Friendship is a sheltering Tree; O the joys that came down shower-like Of Beauty, Truth and Liberty When I was young 5 _When_ I was young, [*ah woeful when*] [*Ah for the change twixt now and then*] In Heat or Frost we car'd not whether Night and day we lodged together woeful when When I was young--ah [*words of agony*] 10 Ah for the change 'twixt now and then [*O youth my Home-Mate dear so long, so long:*] I thought that thou and I were one I scarce believe that thou art gone Thou always wert a Masker bold I [*mark that change,*] in garb and size 15 heave the Breath Those grisled Locks I well behold But still thy Heart is in thine eyes What strange disguise hast now put on To make believe that thou art gone

_Or_ [O youth for years so many so sweet 20 It seem'd that Thou and I were one That still I nurse the fond deceit And scarce believe that thou art gone]

When I was young--ere I was old Ah! happy ere, ah! woeful When 25 When I was young, ah woeful when Which says that Youth and I are twain! O Youth! for years so many and sweet 'Tis known that Thou and I were one I'll think it but a false conceit 30 [*Tis but a gloomy*] It cannot be, [*I'll not believe*] that thou art gone Thy Vesper Bell has not yet toll'd always [*And*] thou wert [*still*] a masker bold What hast [*Some*] strange disguise [*thou'st*] now put on To make believe that thou art gone? 35 I see these Locks in silvery slips, This dragging gait, this alter'd size But spring-tide blossoms on thy Lips And [*the young Heart*] is in thy eyes tears take sunshine from Life is but Thought so think I will 40 That Youth and I are Housemates still.

Ere I was old Ere I was old! ah woeful ere Which tells me youth's no longer here! O Youth, &c. 45 Dewdrops are the Gems of Morning, But the Tears of mournful Eve: Where no Hope is Life's a Warning me That only serves to make [*us*] grieve, Now I am old. 50

LOVE'S APPARITION AND EVANISHMENT[1087:1]

[Vide _ante_, p. 488.]

[FIRST DRAFT]

In vain I supplicate the Powers above; There is no Resurrection for the Love That, nursed with tenderest care, yet fades away In the chilled heart by inward self-decay. Like a lorn Arab old and blind 5 Some caravan had left behind That sits beside a ruined Well, And hangs his wistful head aslant, Some sound he fain would catch-- Suspended there, as it befell, 10 O'er my own vacancy, And while I seemed to watch The sickly calm, as were of heart A place where Hope lay dead, The spirit of departed Love 15 Stood close beside my bed. She bent methought to kiss my lips As she was wont to do. Alas! 'twas with a chilling breath That awoke just enough of life in death 20 To make it die anew.

FOOTNOTES:

[1087:1] Now first published from an MS.

TWO VERSIONS OF THE EPITAPH[1088:1]

INSCRIBED IN A COPY OF GREW'S _Cosmologia Sacra_ (1701)

[Vide _ante_, p. 491.]

Epitaph in Hornsey Church yard Hic Jacet S. T. C.

Stop, Christian Passer-by! Stop, Child of God! And read with gentle heart. Beneath this sod There lies a Poet: or what once was He. [_Up_] O lift thy soul in prayer for S. T. C. That He who many a year with toil of breath 5 Found death in life, may here find life in death. Mercy for praise, to be forgiven for fame He ask'd, and hoped thro' Christ. Do thou the same.

ETESI'S [for Estesi's] Epitaph.

Stop, Christian Visitor! Stop, Child of God, Here lies a Poet: or what once was He! [_O_] Pause, Traveller, pause and pray for S. T. C. That He who many a year with toil of Breath Found Death in Life, may here find Life in Death. 5

And read with gentle heart! Beneath this sod There lies a Poet, etc.

'Inscription on the Tomb-stone of one not unknown; yet more commonly known by the Initials of his Name than by the Name itself.'

ESTEESE'S +autoepitaphion+[1089:1]

(From a copy of the _Todten-Tanz_ which belonged to Thomas Poole.)

Here lies a Poet; or what once was he: Pray, gentle Reader, pray for S. T. C. That he who threescore years, with toilsome breath, Found Death in Life, may now find Life in Death.

FOOTNOTES:

[1088:1] First published in _The Athenaeum_, April 7, 1888: included in the _Notes_ to 1893 (p. 645).

[1089:1] First published in the _Notes_ to 1893 (p. 646).

[HABENT SUA FATA--POETAE][1089:2]

The Fox, and Statesman subtile wiles ensure, The Cit, and Polecat stink and are secure; Toads with their venom, doctors with their drug, The Priest, and Hedgehog, in their robes are snug! Oh, Nature! cruel step-mother, and hard, 5 To thy poor, naked, fenceless child the Bard! No Horns but those by luckless Hymen worn, And those (alas! alas!) not Plenty's Horn! With naked feelings, and with aching pride, He hears th' unbroken blast on every side! 10 Vampire Booksellers drain him to the heart, And Scorpion Critics cureless venom dart!

FOOTNOTES:

[1089:2] First published in Cottle's _Early Recollections_, 1839, i. 172. Now collected for the first time. These lines, according to Cottle, were included in a letter written from Lichfield in January, 1796. They illustrate the following sentence: 'The present hour I seem in a quickset hedge of embarrassments! For shame! I ought not to mistrust God! but, indeed, to hope is far more difficult than to fear. Bulls have horns, Lions have talons.'--They are signed 'S. T. C.' and are presumably his composition.

TO JOHN THELWALL[1090:1]

Some, Thelwall! to the Patriot's meed aspire, Who, in safe rage, without or rent or scar, Bound pictur'd strongholds sketching mimic war Closet their valour--Thou mid thickest fire Leapst on the wall: therefore shall Freedom choose 5 Ungaudy flowers that chastest odours breathe, And weave for thy young locks a Mural wreath; Nor there my song of grateful praise refuse. My ill-adventur'd youth by Cam's slow stream Pin'd for a woman's love in slothful ease: 10 First by thy fair example [taught] to glow With patriot zeal; from Passion's feverish dream Starting I tore disdainful from my brow A Myrtle Crown inwove with Cyprian bough-- Blest if to me in manhood's years belong 15 Thy stern simplicity and vigorous Song.

FOOTNOTES:

[1090:1] Now first published from Cottle's MSS. in the Library of Rugby School.

R[1090:2]

'Relative to a Friend remarkable for Georgoepiscopal Meanderings, and the combination of the _utile dulci_ during his walks to and from any given place, composed, together with a book and a half of an Epic Poem, during one of the _Halts_:--

'Lest after this life it should prove my sad story That my soul must needs go to the Pope's Purgatory, Many prayers have I sighed, May T. P. * * * * be my guide, For so often he'll halt, and so lead me about, That e'er we get there, thro' earth, sea, or air, The last Day will have come, and the Fires have burnt out.

'JOB JUNIOR. '_circumbendiborum patientissimus_.'

FOOTNOTES:

[1090:2] Endorsed by T. P.: 'On my Walks. Written by Coleridge, September, 1807.' First published _Thomas Poole and His Friends_, by Mrs. Henry Sandford, 1888, ii. 196.

APPENDIX II

ALLEGORIC VISION[1091:1]

A feeling of sadness, a peculiar melancholy, is wont to take possession of me alike in Spring and in Autumn. But in Spring it is the melancholy of Hope: in Autumn it is the melancholy of Resignation. As I was journeying on foot through the Appennine, I fell in with a pilgrim in whom the Spring and 5 the Autumn and the Melancholy of both seemed to have combined. In his discourse there were the freshness and the colours of April:

Qual ramicel a ramo, Tal da pensier pensiero 10 In lui germogliava.

But as I gazed on his whole form and figure, I bethought me of the not unlovely decays, both of age and of the late season, in the stately elm, after the clusters have been plucked from its entwining vines, and the vines are as bands of dried withies 15 around its trunk and branches. Even so there was a memory on his smooth and ample forehead, which blended with the dedication of his steady eyes, that still looked--I know not, whether upward, or far onward, or rather to the line of meeting where the sky rests upon the distance. But how may I express 20 that dimness of abstraction which lay on the lustre of the pilgrim's eyes like the flitting tarnish from the breath of a sigh on a silver mirror! and which accorded with their slow and reluctant movement, whenever he turned them to any object on the right hand or on the left? It seemed, methought, as 25 if there lay upon the brightness a shadowy presence of disappointments now unfelt, but never forgotten. It was at once the melancholy of hope and of resignation.

We had not long been fellow-travellers, ere a sudden tempest of wind and rain forced us to seek protection in the vaulted 30 door-way of a lone chapelry; and we sate face to face each on the stone bench alongside the low, weather-stained wall, and as close as possible to the massy door.

After a pause of silence: even thus, said he, like two strangers that have fled to the same shelter from the same storm, not 35 seldom do Despair and Hope meet for the first time in the porch of Death! All extremes meet, I answered; but yours was a strange and visionary thought. The better then doth it beseem both the place and me, he replied. From a Visionary wilt thou hear a Vision? Mark that vivid flash through this 40 torrent of rain! Fire and water. Even here thy adage holds true, and its truth is the moral of my Vision. I entreated him to proceed. Sloping his face toward the arch and yet averting his eye from it, he seemed to seek and prepare his words: till listening to the wind that echoed within the hollow edifice, 45 and to the rain without,

Which stole on his thoughts with its two-fold sound, The clash hard by and the murmur all round,[1092:1]

he gradually sank away, alike from me and from his own purpose, and amid the gloom of the storm and in the duskiness of that 50 place, he sate like an emblem on a rich man's sepulchre, or like a mourner on the sodded grave of an only one--an aged mourner, who is watching the waned moon and sorroweth not. Starting at length from his brief trance of abstraction, with courtesy and an atoning smile he renewed his discourse, and commenced his 55 parable.

During one of those short furloughs from the service of the body, which the soul may sometimes obtain even in this its militant state, I found myself in a vast plain, which I immediately knew to be the Valley of Life. It possessed an 60 astonishing diversity of soils: here was a sunny spot, and there a dark one, forming just such a mixture of sunshine and shade, as we may have observed on the mountains' side in an April day, when the thin broken clouds are scattered over heaven. Almost in the very entrance of the valley stood 65 a large and gloomy pile, into which I seemed constrained to enter. Every part of the building was crowded with tawdry ornaments and fantastic deformity. On every window was portrayed, in glaring and inelegant colours, some horrible tale, or preternatural incident, so that not a ray of light could enter, 70 untinged by the medium through which it passed. The body of the building was full of people, some of them dancing, in and out, in unintelligible figures, with strange ceremonies and antic merriment, while others seemed convulsed with horror, or pining in mad melancholy. Intermingled with these, I observed 75 a number of men, clothed in ceremonial robes, who appeared now to marshal the various groups, and to direct their movements; and now with menacing countenances, to drag some reluctant victim to a vast idol, framed of iron bars intercrossed, which formed at the same time an immense cage, and the shape 80 of a human Colossus.

I stood for a while lost in wonder what these things might mean; when lo! one of the directors came up to me, and with a stern and reproachful look bade me uncover my head, for that the place into which I had entered was the temple of 85 the only true Religion, in the holier recesses of which the great Goddess personally resided. Himself too he bade me reverence, as the consecrated minister of her rites. Awestruck by the name of Religion, I bowed before the priest, and humbly and earnestly intreated him to conduct me into her presence. 90 He assented. Offerings he took from me, with mystic sprinklings of water and with salt he purified, and with strange sufflations he exorcised me; and then led me through many a dark and winding alley, the dew-damps of which chilled my flesh, and the hollow echoes under my feet, mingled, methought, 95 with moanings, affrighted me. At length we entered a large hall, without window, or spiracle, or lamp. The asylum and dormitory it seemed of perennial night--only that the walls were brought to the eye by a number of self-luminous inscriptions in letters of a pale sepulchral light, which held strange neutrality 100 with the darkness, on the verge of which it kept its rayless vigil. I could read them, methought; but though each of the words taken separately I seemed to understand, yet when I took them in sentences, they were riddles and incomprehensible. As I stood meditating on these hard sayings, my guide thus addressed 105 me--'Read and believe: these are mysteries!'--At the extremity of the vast hall the Goddess was placed. Her features, blended with darkness, rose out to my view, terrible, yet vacant. I prostrated myself before her, and then retired with my guide, soul-withered, and wondering, and dissatisfied. 110

As I re-entered the body of the temple I heard a deep buzz as of discontent. A few whose eyes were bright, and either piercing or steady, and whose ample foreheads, with the weighty bar, ridge-like, above the eyebrows, bespoke observation followed by meditative thought; and a much larger number, who were 115 enraged by the severity and insolence of the priests in exacting their offerings, had collected in one tumultuous group, and with a confused outcry of 'This is the Temple of Superstition!' after much contumely, and turmoil, and cruel maltreatment on all sides, rushed out of the pile: and I, methought, joined them. 120

We speeded from the Temple with hasty steps, and had now nearly gone round half the valley, when we were addressed by a woman, tall beyond the stature of mortals, and with a something more than human in her countenance and mien, which yet could by mortals be only felt, not conveyed by words or 125 intelligibly distinguished. Deep reflection, animated by ardent feelings, was displayed in them: and hope, without its uncertainty, and a something more than all these, which I understood not, but which yet seemed to blend all these into a divine unity of expression. Her garments were white and matronly, and of 130 the simplest texture. We inquired her name. 'My name,' she replied, 'is Religion.'

The more numerous part of our company, affrighted by the very sound, and sore from recent impostures or sorceries, hurried onwards and examined no farther. A few of us, struck 135 by the manifest opposition of her form and manners to those of the living Idol, whom we had so recently abjured, agreed to follow her, though with cautious circumspection. She led us to an eminence in the midst of the valley, from the top of which we could command the whole plain, and observe the relation of 140 the different parts to each other, and of each to the whole, and of all to each. She then gave us an optic glass which assisted without contradicting our natural vision, and enabled us to see far beyond the limits of the Valley of Life; though our eye even thus assisted permitted us only to behold a light and 145 a glory, but what we could not descry, save only that it was, and that it was most glorious.

And now with the rapid transition of a dream, I had overtaken and rejoined the more numerous party, who had abruptly left us, indignant at the very name of religion. They journied 150 on, goading each other with remembrances of past oppressions, and never looking back, till in the eagerness to recede from the Temple of Superstition they had rounded the whole circle of the valley. And lo! there faced us the mouth of a vast cavern, at the base of a lofty and almost perpendicular rock, the interior 155 side of which, unknown to them and unsuspected, formed the extreme and backward wall of the Temple. An impatient crowd, we entered the vast and dusky cave, which was the only perforation of the precipice. At the mouth of the cave sate two figures; the first, by her dress and gestures, I knew to be 160 Sensuality; the second form, from the fierceness of his demeanour, and the brutal scornfulness of his looks, declared himself to be the monster Blasphemy. He uttered big words, and yet ever and anon I observed that he turned pale at his own courage. We entered. Some remained in the opening of the 165 cave, with the one or the other of its guardians. The rest, and I among them, pressed on, till we reached an ample chamber, that seemed the centre of the rock. The climate of the place was unnaturally cold.

In the furthest distance of the chamber sate an old dim-eyed 170 man, poring with a microscope over the torso of a statue which had neither basis, nor feet, nor head; but on its breast was carved Nature! To this he continually applied his glass, and seemed enraptured with the various inequalities which it rendered visible on the seemingly polished surface of the 175 marble.--Yet evermore was this delight and triumph followed by expressions of hatred, and vehement railing against a Being, who yet, he assured us, had no existence. This mystery suddenly recalled to me what I had read in the holiest recess of the temple of Superstition. The old man spake in divers 180 tongues, and continued to utter other and most strange mysteries. Among the rest he talked much and vehemently concerning an infinite series of causes and effects, which he explained to be a string of blind men, the last of whom caught hold of the skirt of the one before him, he of the next, 185 and so on till they were all out of sight; and that they all walked infallibly straight, without making one false step though all were alike blind. Methought I borrowed courage from surprise, and asked him--Who then is at the head to guide them? He looked at me with ineffable contempt, not 190 unmixed with an angry suspicion, and then replied, 'No one.' The string of blind men went on for ever without any beginning; for although one blind man could not move without stumbling, yet infinite blindness supplied the want of sight. I burst into laughter, which instantly turned to terror--for as he started 195 forward in rage, I caught a glimpse of him from behind; and lo! I beheld a monster bi-form and Janus-headed, in the hinder face and shape of which I instantly recognised the dread countenance of Superstition--and in the terror I awoke.

FOOTNOTES:

[1091:1] First published in _The Courier_, Saturday, August 31, 1811: included in 1829, 1834-5, &c. (3 vols.), and in 1844 (1 vol.). Lines 1-56 were first published as part of the 'Introduction' to _A Lay Sermon, &c._, 1817, pp. xix-xxxi.

The 'Allegoric Vision' dates from August, 1795. It served as a kind of preface or prologue to Coleridge's first Theological Lecture on 'The Origin of Evil. The Necessity of Revelation deduced from the Nature of Man. An Examination and Defence of the Mosaic Dispensation' (see Cottle's _Early Recollections_, 1837, i. 27). The purport of these Lectures was to uphold the golden mean of Unitarian orthodoxy as opposed to the Church on the one hand, and infidelity or materialism on the other. 'Superstition' stood for and symbolized the Church of England. Sixteen years later this opening portion of an unpublished Lecture was rewritten and printed in _The Courier_ (Aug. 31, 1811), with the heading 'An Allegoric Vision: Superstition, Religion, Atheism'. The attack was now diverted from the Church of England to the Church of Rome. 'Men clad in black robes,' intent on gathering in their Tenths, become 'men clothed in ceremonial robes, who with menacing countenances drag some reluctant victim to a vast idol, framed of iron bars intercrossed which formed at the same time an immense cage, and yet represented the form of a human Colossus. At the base of the Statue I saw engraved the words "To Dominic holy and merciful, the preventer and avenger of soul-murder".' The vision was turned into a political _jeu d'esprit_ levelled at the aiders and abettors of Catholic Emancipation, a measure to which Coleridge was more or less opposed as long as he lived. See _Constitution of Church and State_, 1830, _passim_. A third adaptation of the 'Allegorical Vision' was affixed to the Introduction to _A Lay Sermon: Addressed to the Higher and Middle Classes_, which was published in 1817. The first fifty-six lines, which contain a description of Italian mountain scenery, were entirely new, but the rest of the 'Vision' is an amended and softened reproduction of the preface to the Lecture of 1795. The moral he desires to point is the 'falsehood of extremes'. As Religion is the golden mean between Superstition and Atheism, so the righteous government of a righteous people is the mean between a selfish and oppressive aristocracy, and seditious and unbridled mob-rule. A probable 'Source' of the first draft of the 'Vision' is John Aikin's _Hill of Science, A Vision_, which was included in _Elegant Extracts_, 1794, ii. 801. In the present issue the text of 1834 has been collated with that of 1817 and 1829, but not (exhaustively) with the MS. (1795), or at all with the _Courier_ version of 1811.

[1092:1] From the _Ode to the Rain_, 1802, ll. 15-16:--

O Rain! with your dull two-fold sound, The clash hard by, and the murmur all round!

LINENOTES:

[21-3] --the breathed tarnish, shall I name it?--on the lustre of the pilgrim's eyes? Yet had it not a sort of strange accordance with 1817.

[37] Compare:

like strangers shelt'ring from a storm, Hope and Despair meet in the porch of Death!

_Constancy to an Ideal Object_, p. 456.

[39] VISIONARY 1817, 1829.

[40] VISION 1817, 1829.

[49] sank] sunk 1817.

[51-2] _or like_ an aged mourner on the sodden grave of an only one--a mourner, _who_ 1817.

[57-9] It was towards morning when the Brain begins to reassume its waking state, and our dreams approach to the regular trains of Reality, that I found MS. 1795.

[60] VALLEY OF LIFE 1817, 1829.

[61] and here was 1817, 1829.

[63] mountains' side] Hills MS. 1795.

[75-86] intermingled with all these I observed a great number of men in Black Robes who appeared now marshalling the various Groups and now collecting with scrupulous care the Tenths of everything that grew within their reach. I stood wondering a while what these Things might be when one of these men approached me and with a reproachful Look bade me uncover my Head for the Place into which I had entered was the Temple of _Religion_. MS. 1795.

[80] shape] form 1817.

[92-3] of water he purified me, and then led MS. 1795.

[94-9] chilled and its hollow echoes beneath my feet affrighted me, till at last we entered a large Hall where not even a Lamp glimmered. Around its walls I observed a number of phosphoric Inscriptions MS. 1795.

[96-102] _large hall_ where not even a single lamp glimmered. It was made half visible by the wan phosphoric rays which proceeded from inscriptions on the walls, in letters of the same pale and sepulchral light. I could read them, methought; but though each one of the _words_ 1817.

[106] _me_. The fallible becomes infallible, and the infallible remains fallible. Read and believe: these are MYSTERIES! In the middle of _the vast_ 1817.

[106] MYSTERIES 1829.

[108] _vacant_. No definite thought, no distinct image was afforded me: all was uneasy and obscure feeling. I _prostrated_ 1817.

[118] SUPERSTITION 1817.

[132] RELIGION 1817, 1829.

[141] _parts_ of each to the other, _and of_ 1817, 1829.

[146] _was_ 1817, 1829.

[161] SENSUALITY 1817, 1829.

[163] BLASPHEMY 1817, 1829.

[173] NATURE 1817, 1829.

[180] _Superstition_ 1817, 1829. spake] spoke 1817, 1829.

[196] glimpse] glance 1817, 1829.

[199] SUPERSTITION 1817, 1829.

APPENDIX III

[Vide _ante_ p. 237.]

APOLOGETIC PREFACE TO 'FIRE, FAMINE, AND SLAUGHTER'[1097:1]

At the house of a gentleman[1097:2] who by the principles and corresponding virtues of a sincere Christian consecrates a cultivated genius and the favourable accidents of birth, opulence, and splendid connexions, it was my good fortune to meet, in a dinner-party, with more men of celebrity in science or polite 5 literature than are commonly found collected round the same table. In the course of conversation, one of the party reminded an illustrious poet [Scott], then present, of some verses which he had recited that morning, and which had appeared in a newspaper under the name of a War-Eclogue, in which Fire, 10 Famine, and Slaughter were introduced as the speakers. The gentleman so addressed replied, that he was rather surprised that none of us should have noticed or heard of the poem, as it had been, at the time, a good deal talked of in Scotland. It may be easily supposed that my feelings were at this moment 15 not of the most comfortable kind. Of all present, one only [Sir H. Davy] knew, or suspected me to be the author; a man who would have established himself in the first rank of England's living poets[1097:3], if the Genius of our country had not decreed that he should rather be the first in the first rank of its philosophers 20 and scientific benefactors. It appeared the general wish to hear the lines. As my friend chose to remain silent, I chose to follow his example, and Mr. . . . . [Scott] recited the poem. This he could do with the better grace, being known to have ever been not only a firm and active Anti-Jacobin and 25 Anti-Gallican, but likewise a zealous admirer of Mr. Pitt, both as a good man and a great statesman. As a poet exclusively, he had been amused with the Eclogue; as a poet he recited it; and in a spirit which made it evident that he would have read and repeated it with the same pleasure had his own name been 30 attached to the imaginary object or agent.

After the recitation our amiable host observed that in his opinion Mr. . . . . had over-rated the merits of the poetry; but had they been tenfold greater, they could not have compensated for that malignity of heart which could alone have 35 prompted sentiments so atrocious. I perceived that my illustrious friend became greatly distressed on my account; but fortunately I was able to preserve fortitude and presence of mind enough to take up the subject without exciting even a suspicion how nearly and painfully it interested me. 40

What follows is the substance of what I then replied, but dilated and in language less colloquial. It was not my intention, I said, to justify the publication, whatever its author's feelings might have been at the time of composing it. That they are calculated to call forth so severe a reprobation from a good man, 45 is not the worst feature of such poems. Their moral deformity is aggravated in proportion to the pleasure which they are capable of affording to vindictive, turbulent, and unprincipled readers. Could it be supposed, though for a moment, that the author seriously wished what he had thus wildly imagined, 50 even the attempt to palliate an inhumanity so monstrous would be an insult to the hearers. But it seemed to me worthy of consideration, whether the mood of mind and the general state of sensations in which a poet produces such vivid and fantastic images, is likely to co-exist, or is even compatible with, that 55 gloomy and deliberate ferocity which a serious wish to realize them would pre-suppose. It had been often observed, and all my experience tended to confirm the observation, that prospects of pain and evil to others, and in general all deep feelings of revenge, are commonly expressed in a few words, ironically tame, 60 and mild. The mind under so direful and fiend-like an influence seems to take a morbid pleasure in contrasting the intensity of its wishes and feelings with the slightness or levity of the expressions by which they are hinted; and indeed feelings so intense and solitary, if they were not precluded (as in almost 65 all cases they would be) by a constitutional activity of fancy and association, and by the specific joyousness combined with it, would assuredly themselves preclude such activity. Passion, in its own quality, is the antagonist of action; though in an ordinary and natural degree the former alternates with the latter, 70 and thereby revives and strengthens it. But the more intense and insane the passion is, the fewer and the more fixed are the correspondent forms and notions. A rooted hatred, an inveterate thirst of revenge, is a sort of madness, and still eddies round its favourite object, and exercises as it were a perpetual tautology 75 of mind in thoughts and words which admit of no adequate substitutes. Like a fish in a globe of glass, it moves restlessly round and round the scanty circumference, which it cannot leave without losing its vital element.

There is a second character of such imaginary representations 80 as spring from a real and earnest desire of evil to another, which we often see in real life, and might even anticipate from the nature of the mind. The images, I mean, that a vindictive man places before his imagination, will most often be taken from the realities of life: they will be images of pain and 85 suffering which he has himself seen inflicted on other men, and which he can fancy himself as inflicting on the object of his hatred. I will suppose that we had heard at different times two common sailors, each speaking of some one who had wronged or offended him: that the first with apparent violence 90 had devoted every part of his adversary's body and soul to all the horrid phantoms and fantastic places that ever Quevedo dreamt of, and this in a rapid flow of those outrageous and wildly combined execrations, which too often with our lower classes serve for escape-valves to carry off the excess of their passions, 95 as so much superfluous steam that would endanger the vessel if it were retained. The other, on the contrary, with that sort of calmness of tone which is to the ear what the paleness of anger is to the eye, shall simply say, 'If I chance to be made boatswain, as I hope I soon shall, and can but once get that 100 fellow under my hand (and I shall be upon the watch for him), I'll tickle his pretty skin! I won't hurt him! oh no! I'll only cut the -- -- to the liver!' I dare appeal to all present, which of the two they would regard as the least deceptive symptom of deliberate malignity? nay, whether it would surprise them 105 to see the first fellow, an hour or two afterwards, cordially shaking hands with the very man the fractional parts of whose body and soul he had been so charitably disposing of; or even perhaps risking his life for him? What language Shakespeare considered characteristic of malignant disposition we see in the 110 speech of the good-natured Gratiano, who spoke 'an infinite deal of nothing more than any man in all Venice';

----Too wild, too rude and bold of voice!

the skipping spirit, whose thoughts and words reciprocally ran away with each other; 115

----O be them damn'd, inexorable dog! And for thy life let justice be accused!

and the wild fancies that follow, contrasted with Shylock's tranquil 'I stand here for Law'.

Or, to take a case more analogous to the present subject, 120 should we hold it either fair or charitable to believe it to have been Dante's serious wish that all the persons mentioned by him (many recently departed, and some even alive at the time,) should actually suffer the fantastic and horrible punishments to which he has sentenced them in his Hell and Purgatory? 125 Or what shall we say of the passages in which Bishop Jeremy Taylor anticipates the state of those who, vicious themselves, have been the cause of vice and misery to their fellow-creatures? Could we endure for a moment to think that a spirit, like Bishop Taylor's, burning with Christian love; that a man 130 constitutionally overflowing with pleasurable kindliness; who scarcely even in a casual illustration introduces the image of woman, child, or bird, but he embalms the thought with so rich a tenderness, as makes the very words seem beauties and fragments of poetry from Euripides or Simonides;--can we 135 endure to think, that a man so natured and so disciplined, did at the time of composing this horrible picture, attach a sober feeling of reality to the phrases? or that he would have described in the same tone of justification, in the same luxuriant flow of phrases, the tortures about to be inflicted on a living 140 individual by a verdict of the Star-Chamber? or the still more atrocious sentences executed on the Scotch anti-prelatists and schismatics, at the command, and in some instances under the very eye of the Duke of Lauderdale, and of that wretched bigot who afterwards dishonoured and forfeited the throne of Great 145 Britain? Or do we not rather feel and understand, that these violent words were mere bubbles, flashes and electrical apparitions, from the magic cauldron of a fervid and ebullient fancy, constantly fuelled by an unexampled opulence of language?

Were I now to have read by myself for the first time the poem 150 in question, my conclusion, I fully believe, would be, that the writer must have been some man of warm feelings and active fancy; that he had painted to himself the circumstances that accompany war in so many vivid and yet fantastic forms, as proved that neither the images nor the feelings were the result 155 of observation, or in any way derived from realities. I should judge that they were the product of his own seething imagination, and therefore impregnated with that pleasurable exultation which is experienced in all energetic exertion of intellectual power; that in the same mood he had generalized the causes of 160 the war, and then personified the abstract and christened it by the name which he had been accustomed to hear most often associated with its management and measures. I should guess that the minister was in the author's mind at the moment of composition as completely +apathês, anaimôsarkos+, as Anacreon's 165 grasshopper, and that he had as little notion of a real person of flesh and blood,

Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb, [_Paradise Lost_, II. 668.]

as Milton had in the grim and terrible phantom (half person, half allegory) which he has placed at the gates of Hell. I 170 concluded by observing, that the poem was not calculated to excite passion in any mind, or to make any impression except on poetic readers; and that from the culpable levity betrayed at the close of the eclogue by the grotesque union of epigrammatic wit with allegoric personification, in the allusion to the 175 most fearful of thoughts, I should conjecture that the 'rantin' Bardie', instead of really believing, much less wishing, the fate spoken of in the last line, in application to any human individual, would shrink from passing the verdict even on the Devil himself, and exclaim with poor Burns, 180

But fare ye weel, auld Nickie-ben! Oh! wad ye tak a thought an' men! Ye aiblins might--I dinna ken-- Still hae a stake-- I'm wae to think upon yon den, 185 Ev'n for your sake!

I need not say that these thoughts, which are here dilated, were in such a company only rapidly suggested. Our kind host smiled, and with a courteous compliment observed, that the defence was too good for the cause. My voice faltered 190 a little, for I was somewhat agitated; though not so much on my own account as for the uneasiness that so kind and friendly a man would feel from the thought that he had been the occasion of distressing me. At length I brought out these words: 'I must now confess, sir! that I am author of that poem. It 195 was written some years ago. I do not attempt to justify my past self, young as I then was; but as little as I would now write a similar poem, so far was I even then from imagining that the lines would be taken as more or less than a sport of fancy. At all events, if I know my own heart, there was 200 never a moment in my existence in which I should have been more ready, had Mr. Pitt's person been in hazard, to interpose my own body, and defend his life at the risk of my own.'

I have prefaced the poem with this anecdote, because to have printed it without any remark might well have been understood 205 as implying an unconditional approbation on my part, and this after many years' consideration. But if it be asked why I republished it at all, I answer, that the poem had been attributed at different times to different other persons; and what I had dared beget, I thought it neither manly nor honourable not to 210 dare father. From the same motives I should have published perfect copies of two poems, the one entitled The Devil's Thoughts, and the other, The Two Round Spaces on the Tombstone, but that the three first stanzas of the former, which were worth all the rest of the poem, and the best stanza of the 215 remainder, were written by a friend [Southey] of deserved celebrity; and because there are passages in both which might have given offence to the religious feelings of certain readers. I myself indeed see no reason why vulgar superstitions and absurd conceptions that deform the pure faith of a Christian 220 should possess a greater immunity from ridicule than stories of witches, or the fables of Greece and Rome. But there are those who deem it profaneness and irreverence to call an ape an ape, if it but wear a monk's cowl on its head; and I would rather reason with this weakness than offend it. 225

The passage from Jeremy Taylor to which I referred is found in his second Sermon on Christ's Advent to Judgment; which is likewise the second in his year's course of sermons. Among many remarkable passages of the same character in those discourses, I have selected this as the most so. 'But when this 230 Lion of the tribe of Judah shall appear, then Justice shall strike, and Mercy shall not hold her hands; she shall strike sore strokes, and Pity shall not break the blow. As there are treasures of good things, so hath God a treasure of wrath and fury, and scourges and scorpions; and then shall be produced the shame 235 of Lust and the malice of Envy, and the groans of the oppressed and the persecutions of the saints, and the cares of Covetousness and the troubles of Ambition, and the insolencies of traitors and the violences of rebels, and the rage of anger and the uneasiness of impatience, and the restlessness of unlawful desires; and by 240 this time the monsters and diseases will be numerous and intolerable, when God's heavy hand shall press the sanies and the intolerableness, the obliquity and the unreasonableness, the amazement and the disorder, the smart and the sorrow, the guilt and the punishment, out from all our sins, and pour them 245 into one chalice, and mingle them with an infinite wrath, and make the wicked drink off all the vengeance, and force it down their unwilling throats with the violence of devils and accursed spirits.'

That this Tartarean drench displays the imagination rather 250 than the discretion of the compounder; that, in short, this passage and others of the same kind are in a bad taste, few will deny at the present day. It would, doubtless, have more behoved the good bishop not to be wise beyond what is written on a subject in which Eternity is opposed to Time, and a Death 255 threatened, not the negative, but the positive Opposite of Life; a subject, therefore, which must of necessity be indescribable to the human understanding in our present state. But I can neither find nor believe that it ever occurred to any reader to ground on such passages a charge against Bishop Taylor's 260 humanity, or goodness of heart. I was not a little surprised therefore to find, in the Pursuits of Literature and other works, so horrible a sentence passed on Milton's moral character, for a passage in his prose writings, as nearly parallel to this of Taylor's as two passages can well be conceived to be. All his 265 merits, as a poet, forsooth--all the glory of having written the Paradise Lost, are light in the scale, nay, kick the beam, compared with the atrocious malignity of heart, expressed in the offensive paragraph. I remembered, in general, that Milton had concluded one of his works on Reformation, written in the 270 fervour of his youthful imagination, in a high poetic strain, that wanted metre only to become a lyrical poem. I remembered that in the former part he had formed to himself a perfect ideal of human virtue, a character of heroic, disinterested zeal and devotion for Truth, Religion, and public Liberty, in act and in 275 suffering, in the day of triumph and in the hour of martyrdom. Such spirits, as more excellent than others, he describes as having a more excellent reward, and as distinguished by a transcendant glory: and this reward and this glory he displays and

## particularizes with an energy and brilliance that announced the 280

Paradise Lost as plainly, as ever the bright purple clouds in the east announced the coming of the Sun. Milton then passes to the gloomy contrast, to such men as from motives of selfish ambition and the lust of personal aggrandizement should, against their own light, persecute truth and the true religion, and 285 wilfully abuse the powers and gifts entrusted to them, to bring vice, blindness, misery and slavery, on their native country, on the very country that had trusted, enriched and honoured them. Such beings, after that speedy and appropriate removal from their sphere of mischief which all good and humane men must 290 of course desire, will, he takes for granted by parity of reason, meet with a punishment, an ignominy, and a retaliation, as much severer than other wicked men, as their guilt and its consequences were more enormous. His description of this imaginary punishment presents more distinct pictures to the 295 fancy than the extract from Jeremy Taylor; but the thoughts in the latter are incomparably more exaggerated and horrific. All this I knew; but I neither remembered, nor by reference and careful re-perusal could discover, any other meaning, either in Milton or Taylor, but that good men will be rewarded, and 300 the impenitent wicked, punished, in proportion to their dispositions and intentional acts in this life; and that if the punishment of the least wicked be fearful beyond conception, all words and descriptions must be so far true, that they must fall short of the punishment that awaits the transcendantly wicked. Had 305 Milton stated either his ideal of virtue, or of depravity, as an individual or individuals actually existing? Certainly not! Is this representation worded historically, or only hypothetically? Assuredly the latter! Does he express it as his own wish that after death they should suffer these tortures? or as 310 a general consequence, deduced from reason and revelation, that such will be their fate? Again, the latter only! His wish is expressly confined to a speedy stop being put by Providence to their power of inflicting misery on others! But did he name or refer to any persons living or dead? No! But the 315 calumniators of Milton daresay (for what will calumny not dare say?) that he had Laud and Strafford in his mind, while writing of remorseless persecution, and the enslavement of a free country from motives of selfish ambition. Now what if a stern anti-prelatist should daresay, that in speaking of the insolencies of 320 traitors and the violences of rebels, Bishop Taylor must have individualised in his mind Hampden, Hollis, Pym, Fairfax, Ireton, and Milton? And what if he should take the liberty of concluding, that, in the after-description, the Bishop was feeding and feasting his party-hatred, and with those individuals before 325 the eyes of his imagination enjoying, trait by trait, horror after horror, the picture of their intolerable agonies? Yet this bigot would have an equal right thus to criminate the one good and great man, as these men have to criminate the other. Milton has said, and I doubt not but that Taylor with equal 330 truth could have said it, 'that in his whole life he never spake against a man even that his skin should be grazed.' He asserted this when one of his opponents (either Bishop Hall or his nephew) had called upon the women and children in the streets to take up stones and stone him (Milton). It is known that 335 Milton repeatedly used his interest to protect the royalists; but even at a time when all lies would have been meritorious against him, no charge was made, no story pretended, that he had ever directly or indirectly engaged or assisted in their persecution. Oh! methinks there are other and far better feelings 340 which should be acquired by the perusal of our great elder writers. When I have before me, on the same table, the works of Hammond and Baxter; when I reflect with what joy and dearness their blessed spirits are now loving each other; it seems a mournful thing that their names should be perverted to 345 an occasion of bitterness among us, who are enjoying that happy mean which the human too-much on both sides was perhaps necessary to produce. 'The tangle of delusions which stifled and distorted the growing tree of our well-being has been torn away; the parasite-weeds that fed on its very roots have been 350 plucked up with a salutary violence. To us there remain only quiet duties, the constant care, the gradual improvement, the cautious unhazardous labours of the industrious though contented gardener--to prune, to strengthen, to engraft, and one by one to remove from its leaves and fresh shoots the slug and 355 the caterpillar. But far be it from us to undervalue with light and senseless detraction the conscientious hardihood of our predecessors, or even to condemn in them that vehemence, to which the blessings it won for us leave us now neither temptation nor pretext. We antedate the feelings, in order to 360 criminate the authors, of our present liberty, light and toleration.' (_The Friend_, No. IV. Sept. 7, 1809.) [1818, i. 105.]

If ever two great men might seem, during their whole lives, to have moved in direct opposition, though neither of them has at any time introduced the name of the other, Milton and 365 Jeremy Taylor were they. The former commenced his career by attacking the Church-Liturgy and all set forms of prayer. The latter, but far more successfully, by defending both. Milton's next work was against the Prelacy and the then existing Church-Government--Taylor's in vindication and 370 support of them. Milton became more and more a stern republican, or rather an advocate for that religious and moral aristocracy which, in his day, was called republicanism, and which, even more than royalism itself, is the direct antipode of modern jacobinism. Taylor, as more and more sceptical concerning the fitness of 375 men in general for power, became more and more attached to the prerogatives of monarchy. From Calvinism, with a still decreasing respect for Fathers, Councils, and for Church-antiquity in general, Milton seems to have ended in an indifference, if not a dislike, to all forms of ecclesiastic government, and to 380 have retreated wholly into the inward and spiritual church-communion of his own spirit with the Light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world. Taylor, with a growing reverence for authority, an increasing sense of the insufficiency of the Scriptures without the aids of tradition and the consent of 385 authorized interpreters, advanced as far in his approaches (not indeed to Popery, but) to Roman-Catholicism, as a conscientious minister of the English Church could well venture. Milton would be and would utter the same to all on all occasions: he would tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the 390 truth. Taylor would become all things to all men, if by any means he might benefit any; hence he availed himself, in his popular writings, of opinions and representations which stand often in striking contrast with the doubts and convictions expressed in his more philosophical works. He appears, indeed, 395 not too severely to have blamed that management of truth (istam falsitatem dispensativam) authorized and exemplified by almost all the fathers: Integrum omnino doctoribus et coetus Christiani antistitibus esse, ut dolos versent, falsa veris intermisceant et imprimis religionis hostes fallant, dummodo 400 veritatis commodis et utilitati inserviant.

The same antithesis might be carried on with the elements of their several intellectual powers. Milton, austere, condensed, imaginative, supporting his truth by direct enunciation of lofty moral sentiment and by distinct visual representations, and in 405 the same spirit overwhelming what he deemed falsehood by moral denunciation and a succession of pictures appalling or repulsive. In his prose, so many metaphors, so many allegorical miniatures. Taylor, eminently discursive, accumulative, and (to use one of his own words) agglomerative; still more 410 rich in images than Milton himself, but images of fancy, and presented to the common and passive eye, rather than to the eye of the imagination. Whether supporting or assailing, he makes his way either by argument or by appeals to the affections, unsurpassed even by the schoolmen in subtlety, 415 agility, and logic wit, and unrivalled by the most rhetorical of the fathers in the copiousness and vividness of his expressions and illustrations. Here words that convey feelings, and words that flash images, and words of abstract notion, flow together, and whirl and rush onward like a stream, at once rapid and full 420 of eddies; and yet still interfused here and there we see a tongue or islet of smooth water, with some picture in it of earth or sky, landscape or living group of quiet beauty.

Differing then so widely and almost contrariantly, wherein did these great men agree? wherein did they resemble each 425 other? In genius, in learning, in unfeigned piety, in blameless purity of life, and in benevolent aspirations and purposes for the moral and temporal improvement of their fellow-creatures! Both of them wrote a Latin Accidence, to render education more easy and less painful to children; both of them composed 430 hymns and psalms proportioned to the capacity of common congregations; both, nearly at the same time, set the glorious example of publicly recommending and supporting general toleration, and the liberty both of the Pulpit and the press! In the writings of neither shall we find a single sentence, like 435 those meek deliverances to God's mercy, with which Laud accompanied his votes for the mutilations and loathsome dungeoning of Leighton and others!--nowhere such a pious prayer as we find in Bishop Hall's memoranda of his own life, concerning the subtle and witty atheist that so grievously perplexed 440 and gravelled him at Sir Robert Drury's till he prayed to the Lord to remove him, and behold! his prayers were heard: for shortly afterward this Philistine-combatant went to London, and there perished of the plague in great misery! In short, nowhere shall we find the least approach, in the lives and 445 writings of John Milton or Jeremy Taylor, to that guarded gentleness, to that sighing reluctance, with which the holy brethren of the Inquisition deliver over a condemned heretic to the civil magistrate, recommending him to mercy, and hoping that the magistrate will treat the erring brother with 450 all possible mildness!--the magistrate who too well knows what would be his own fate if he dared offend them by acting on their recommendation.

The opportunity of diverting the reader from myself to characters more worthy of his attention, has led me far beyond my 455 first intention; but it is not unimportant to expose the false zeal which has occasioned these attacks on our elder patriots. It has been too much the fashion first to personify the Church of England, and then to speak of different individuals, who in different ages have been rulers in that church, as if in some 460 strange way they constituted its personal identity. Why should a clergyman of the present day feel interested in the defence of Laud or Sheldon? Surely it is sufficient for the warmest

## partisan of our establishment that he can assert with

truth,--when our Church persecuted, it was on mistaken principles 465 held in common by all Christendom; and at all events, far less culpable was this intolerance in the Bishops, who were maintaining the existing laws, than the persecuting spirit afterwards shewn by their successful opponents, who had no such excuse, and who should have been taught mercy by their own sufferings, 470 and wisdom by the utter failure of the experiment in their own case. We can say that our Church, apostolical in its faith, primitive in its ceremonies, unequalled in its liturgical forms; that our Church, which has kindled and displayed more bright and burning lights of genius and learning than all other protestant 475 churches since the reformation, was (with the single exception of the times of Laud and Sheldon) least intolerant, when all Christians unhappily deemed a species of intolerance their religious duty; that Bishops of our church were among the first that contended against this error; and finally, that since the 480 reformation, when tolerance became a fashion, the Church of England in a tolerating age, has shewn herself eminently tolerant, and far more so, both in spirit and in fact, than many of her most bitter opponents, who profess to deem toleration itself an insult on the rights of mankind! As to 485 myself, who not only know the Church-Establishment to be tolerant, but who see in it the greatest, if not the sole safe bulwark of toleration. I feel no necessity of defending or palliating oppressions under the two Charleses, in order to exclaim with a full and fervent heart, Esto perpetua! 490

FOOTNOTES:

[1097:1] First published in _Sibylline Leaves_ in 1817: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834. The 'Apologetic Preface' must have been put together in 1815, with a view to publication in the volume afterwards named _Sibylline Leaves_, but the incident on which it turns most probably took place in the spring of 1803, when both Scott and Coleridge were in London. Davy writing to Poole, May 1, 1803, says that he generally met Coleridge during his stay in town, 'in the midst of large companies, where he was the image of power and activity,' and Davy, as we know, was one of Sotheby's guests. In a letter to Mrs. Fletcher dated Dec. 18, 1830 (?), Scott tells the story in his own words, but throws no light on date or period. The implied date (1809) in Morritt's report of Dr. Howley's conversation (Lockhart's _Life of Scott_, 1837, ii. 245) is out of the question, as Coleridge did not leave the Lake Country between Sept. 1808 and October 1810. Coleridge set great store by 'his own stately account of this lion-show' (ibid.). In a note in a MS. copy of _Sibylline Leaves_ presented to his son Derwent he writes:--'With the exception of this slovenly sentence (ll. 109-19) I hold this preface to be my happiest effort in prose composition.'

[1097:2] William Sotheby (1756-1838), translator of Wieland's _Oberon_ and the _Georgics_ of Virgil. Coleridge met him for the first time at Keswick in July, 1802.

[1097:3] 'The compliment I can witness to be as just as it is handsomely recorded,' Sir W. Scott to Mrs. Fletcher, _Fragmentary Remains of Sir H. Davy_, 1858, p. 113.

LINENOTES:

[24] _he_ 1817, 1829.

[41] What follows is substantially the same as _I then_ 1817, 1829.

[56] _realize_ 1817, 1829.

[93] outrageous] outrè, 1817, 1829.

[95] _escape-valves_ 1817, 1829. _liver_ 1817, 1829.

[106] afterwards] afterward 1817, 1829.

[119] '_I . . . Law_' 1817, 1829.

[125] _Hell and Purgatory_ 1817, 1829.

[135] a Euripides _1817_: an Euripides 1829.

[136] _so_ natured 1817, 1829.

[172] _passion . . . any_ 1817, 1829.

[173] _poetic_ 1817, 1829. For _betrayed in_ r. _betrayed by_, Errata, 1817, p. [xi].]

[174] in the grotesque 1817.

[195] am author] am the author 1817.

[203] my body MS. corr. 1817.

[212-3] _The . . . Thoughts_ 1817, 1829.

[213-4] _The . . . Tombstone_ 1817, 1829.

[238] insolencies] _indolence_ 1829.

[238-9] _and the . . . rebels_ 1817, 1829.

[252] _in . . . taste_ 1817, 1829.

[256] _positive_ 1817, 1829. Opposite] Oppositive 1829, 1893.

[264] _his_ 1817, 1829.

[267] PARADISE LOST 1817, 1829.

[273] former] preceding MS. corr. 1817.

[278] and as] as MS. corr. 1817.

[295] _pictures_ 1817, 1829.

[296] _thoughts_ 1817, 1829.

[310] _wish . . . should_ 1817, 1829.

[312] _will be_ 1817, 1829.

[316] _daresay_ 1817, 1829.

[320] _daresay_ 1817, 1829.

[320-1] _insolencies . . . rebels_ 1817, 1829.

[335] _him_ 1817, 1829.

[346] _us_ 1817, 1829.

[347] _human_ TOO-MUCH 1817, 1829.

[349] has] have 1817.

[360] _feelings_ 1817, 1829.

[361] _authors_ 1817, 1829.

[373] _called_ 1817, 1829.

[380] _all_ 1817, 1829.

[387] Roman-Catholicism] Catholicism 1817, 1829.

[393] _popular_ 1817, 1829.

[396] _too severely . . . management_ 1817, 1829.

[397] _istam . . . dispensativam_ 1817, 1829.

[410] _agglomerative_ 1817, 1829.

[416] logic] logical 1817, 1829.

[420] and at once whirl 1817, 1829.

[422] islet] isle 1829. Carlyle in the _Life of John Sterling_, cap. viii, quotes the last two words of the Preface. Was it from the same source that he caught up the words 'Balmy sunny islets, islets of the blest and the intelligible' which he uses to illustrate the lucid intervals in Coleridge's monologue?

[436] _meek . . . mercy_ 1817, 1829.

[441] _he . . . him_ 1817, 1829.

[450] _hoping_ 1817, 1829.

[461] _they_ 1817, 1829.

[467] culpable were the Bishops 1817, 1829.

[481] reformation] Revolution in 1688 MS. corr. 1817.

[488] _bulwark_ 1817, 1829.

[490] ESTO PERPETUA 1817, 1829.

[After 490] Braving the cry. O the Vanity and self-dotage of Authors! I, yet, after a reperusal of the preceding Apol. Preface, now some 20 years since its first publication, dare deliver it as my own judgement that both in style and thought it is a work creditable to the head and heart of the Author, tho' he happens to have been the same person, only a few stone lighter and with chesnut instead of silver hair, with his Critic and Eulogist.

S. T. Coleridge, May, 1829.

[_MS. Note in a copy of the edition of 1829, vol. i, p. 353._]

APPENDIX IV

PROSE VERSIONS OF POEMS, ETC.

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS IN THE COURT OF LOVE

[Vide _ante_, p. 409.]

Why is my Love like the Sun?

1. The Dawn = the presentiment of my Love.

No voice as yet had made the air Be music with thy name: yet why That obscure [over _aching_] Hope: that yearning Sigh? That sense of Promise everywhere? Beloved! flew thy spirit by?

2. The Sunrise = the suddenness, the all-at-once of Love--and the first silence--the beams of Light fall first on the distance, the interspace still dark.

3. The Cheerful Morning--the established Day-light universal.

4. The Sunset--who can behold it, and think of the Sun-rise? It takes all the thought to itself. The Moon-reflected Light--soft, melancholy, warmthless--the absolute purity (nay, it is always _pure_, but), the incorporeity of Love in absence--Love _per se_ is a Potassium--it can subsist by itself, tho' in presence it has a natural and necessary combination with the comburent principle. All other Lights (the fixed Stars) not borrowed from the absent Sun--Lights for other worlds, not for me. I see them and admire, but they irradiate nothing.

PROSE VERSION OF GLYCINE'S SONG IN ZAPOLYA

[Vide _ante_, pp. 426, 919, 920.]

On the sky with liquid openings of Blue, The slanting pillar of sun mist, Field-inward flew a little Bird. Pois'd himself on the column, Sang with a sweet and marvellous voice, 5 Adieu! adieu! I must away, Far, far away, Set off to-day.

Listened--listened--gaz'd-- Sight of a Bird, sound of a voice-- 10 It was so well with me, and yet so strange. Heart! Heart! Swell'st thou with joy or smart? But the Bird went away-- Adieu! adieu! 15

All cloudy the heavens falling and falling-- Then said I--Ah! summer again-- The swallow, the summer-bird is going, And so will my Beauty fall like the leaves From my pining for his absence, 20 And so will his Love fly away. Away! away! Like the summer-bird, Swift as the Day.

But lo! again came the slanting sun-shaft, 25 Close by me pois'd on its wing, The sweet Bird sang again, And looking on my tearful Face Did it not say, 'Love has arisen, 30 True Love makes its summer, In the Heart'?

1845

_Notebook No. 29, p. 168._

21 Feb. 1825.

MY DEAR FRIEND

I have often amused myself with the thought of a self-conscious Looking-glass, and the various metaphorical applications of such a fancy--and this morning it struck across the Eolian Harp of my Brain that there was something pleasing and emblematic (of what I did not distinctly make out) in two such Looking-glasses fronting, each seeing the other in itself, and itself in the other. Have you ever noticed the Vault or snug little Apartment which the Spider spins and weaves for itself, by spiral threads round and round, and sometimes with strait lines, so that its lurking parlour or withdrawing-room is an oblong square? This too connected itself in my mind with the melancholy truth, that as we grow older, the World (alas! how often it happens that the less we love it, the more we care for it, the less reason we have to value its Shews, the more anxious are we about them--alas! how often do we become more and more loveless, as Love which can outlive all change save a change with regard to itself, and all loss save the loss of its _Reflex_, is more needed to sooth us and alone is able so to do!) What was I saying? O, I was adverting to the fact that as we advance in years, the World, that spidery Witch, spins its threads narrower and narrower, still closing on us, till at last it shuts us up within four walls, walls of flues and films, windowless--and well if there be sky-lights, and a small opening left for the Light from above. I do not know that I have anything to add, except to remind you, that _pheer_ or _phere_ for _Mate_, _Companion_, _Counterpart_, is a word frequently used by Spencer (_sic_) and Herbert, and the Poets generally, who wrote before the Restoration (1660), before I say that this premature warm and sunny day, antedating Spring, called forth the following.

* * * * *

Strain in the manner of G. HERBERT, which might be entitled THE ALONE MOST DEAR: a Complaint of Jacob to Rachel as in the tenth year of her service he saw in her or _fancied_ that he saw symptoms of Alienation. [*N.B. The Thoughts and Images being modernized and turned into English.*]

(_It was fancy_) [Pencil note by Mrs. Gillman.]

All Nature seems at work. [*Snails*] Slugs leave their lair; The Bees are stirring; Birds are on the wing; And WINTER slumb'ring in the open air Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring. And [*But*] I the while, the sole unbusy thing. Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing. Yet well I ken the banks where[1111:1]Amaranths blow Have traced the fount whence Streams of Nectar flow. Bloom, O ye Amaranths! bloom for whom ye may-- For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams! away! ? _Lip unbrighten'd, wreathless B._ With unmoist Lip and wreathless Brow I stroll; And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul? WORK without Hope draws nectar in a sieve; And HOPE without an Object cannot live.

I speak in figures, inward thoughts and woes Interpreting by Shapes and outward shews: { Where daily nearer me with magic Ties, { What time and where, (wove close with magic Ties Line over line, and thickning as they rise) The World her spidery threads on all sides spin Side answ'ring side with narrow interspace, My Faith (say I; I and my Faith are one) Hung, as a Mirror, there! And face to face (For nothing else there was between or near) One Sister Mirror hid the dreary Wall, { bright compeer But _that_ is broke! And with that { only pheere[1111:2] I lost my object and my inmost All---- Faith _in_ the Faith of THE ALONE MOST DEAR! JACOB HODIERNUS.

Ah! me!!

Call the World spider: and at fancy's touch Thought becomes image and I see it such. With viscous masonry of films and threads Tough as the nets in Indian Forests found It blends the Waller's and the Weaver's trades And soon the tent-like Hangings touch the ground A dusky chamber that excludes the day But cease the prelude and resume the lay

FOOTNOTES:

[1111:1] _Literally_ rendered is Flower Fadeless, or never-fading, from the Greek a NOT and marain[=o] to wither.

[1111:2] Mate, Counterpart.

_Note to Line 34 of the_ Joan of Arc _Book II. 1796, pp. 41, 42_.

Line 34. Sir Isaac Newton at the end of the last edition of his Optics supposes that a very subtile and elastic fluid, which he calls aether, is diffused thro' the pores of gross bodies, as well as thro' the open spaces that are void of gross matter: he supposes it to pierce all bodies, and to touch their least particles, acting on them with a force proportional to their number or to the matter of the body on which it acts. He supposes likewise, that it is rarer in the pores of bodies than in open spaces, and even rarer in small pores and dense bodies, than in large pores and rare bodies; and also that its density increases in receding from gross matter; so for instance as to be greater at the 1/100 of an inch from the surface of any body, than at its surface; and so on. To the action of this aether he ascribes the attractions of gravitation and cohoesion, the attraction and repulsion of electrical bodies, the mutual influences of bodies and light upon each other, the effects and communication of heat, and the performance of animal sensation and motion. David Hartley, from whom this account of aether is chiefly borrowed, makes it the instrument of propagating those vibrations or configurative motions which are ideas. It appears to me, no hypothesis ever involved so many contradictions; for how can the same fluid be both dense and rare in the same body at one time? Yet in the Earth as gravitating to the Moon, it must be very rare; and in the Earth as gravitating to the Sun, it must be very dense. For as Andrew Baxter well observes, it doth not appear sufficient to account how the fluid may act with a force proportional to the body to which another is impelled, to assert that it is rarer in great bodies than in small ones; it must be further asserted that this fluid is rarer or denser in the same body, whether small or great, according as the body to which that is impelled is itself small or great. But whatever may be the solidity of this objection, the following seems unanswerable:

If every particle thro' the whole solidity of a heavy body receive its impulse from the particles of this fluid, it should seem that the fluid itself must be as dense as the very densest heavy body, gold for instance; there being as many impinging particles in the one, as there are gravitating particles in the other which receive their gravitation by being impinged upon: so that, throwing gold or any heavy body upward, against the impulse of this fluid, would be like throwing gold _thro'_ gold; and as this aether must be equally diffused over the whole sphere of its activity, it must be as dense when it impels cork as when it impels gold, so that to throw a piece of cork upward, would be as if we endeavoured to make cork penetrate a medium as dense as gold; and tho' we were to adopt the extravagant opinions which have been advanced concerning the progression of pores, yet however porous we suppose a body, if it be not all pore, the argument holds equally, the fluid must be as dense as the body in order to give every particle its impulse.

It has been asserted that Sir Isaac Newton's philosophy leads in its consequences to Atheism: perhaps not without reason. For if matter, by any powers or properties _given_ to it, can produce the order of the visible world and even generate thought; why may it not have possessed such properties by _inherent_ right? and where is the necessity of a God? matter is according to the mechanic philosophy capable of acting most wisely and most beneficently without Wisdom or Benevolence; and what more does the Atheist assert? if matter possess those properties, why might it not have possessed them from all eternity? Sir Isaac Newton's Deity seems to be alternately operose and indolent; to have delegated so much power as to make it inconceivable what he can have reserved. He is dethroned by Vice-regent second causes.

We seem placed here to acquire a knowledge of _effects_. Whenever we would pierce into the _Adyta_ of Causation, we bewilder ourselves; and all that laborious Conjecture can do, is to fill up the gaps of imagination. We are restless, because _invisible_ things are not the objects of vision--and philosophical systems, for the most part, are received not for their Truth, but in proportion as they attribute to Causes a susceptibility of being _seen_, whenever our visual organs shall have become sufficiently powerful.

DEDICATION[1113:1]

Ode on the Departing Year, 1796, pp. [3]-4.

[Vide _ante_, p. 160.]

TO THOMAS POOLE, OF STOWEY.

MY DEAR FRIEND--

Soon after the commencement of this month, the Editor of the Cambridge Intelligencer (a newspaper conducted with so much ability, and such unmixed and fearless zeal for the interests of Piety and Freedom, that I cannot but think my poetry honoured by being permitted to appear in it) requested me, by Letter, to furnish him with some Lines for the last day of this Year. I promised him that I would make the attempt; but almost immediately after, a rheumatic complaint seized on my head, and continued to prevent the possibility of poetic composition till within the last three days. So in the course of the last three days the following Ode was produced. In general, when an Author informs the Public that his production was struck off in a great hurry, he offers an insult, not an excuse. But I trust that the present case is an exception, and that the peculiar circumstances which obliged me to write with such unusual rapidity give a propriety to my professions of it: _nec nunc eam apud te jacto, sed et ceteris indico; ne quis asperiore limâ carmen examinet, et a confuso scriptum et quod frigidum erat ni statim traderem_.[1113:2] (I avail myself of the words of Statius, and hope that I shall likewise be able to say of any weightier publication, what _he_ has declared of his Thebaid, that it had been tortured[1113:3] with a laborious Polish.)

For me to discuss the _literary_ merits of this hasty composition were idle and presumptuous. If it be found to possess that impetuosity of Transition, and that Precipitation of Fancy and Feeling, which are the _essential_ excellencies of the sublimer Ode, its deficiency in less important respects will be easily pardoned by those from whom alone praise could give me pleasure: and whose minuter criticisms will be disarmed by the reflection, that these Lines were conceived 'not in the soft obscurities of Retirement, or under the Shelter of Academic Groves, but amidst inconvenience and distraction, in sickness and in sorrow'.[1114:1] I am more anxious lest the _moral_ spirit of the Ode should be mistaken. You, I am sure, will not fail to recollect that among the Ancients, the Bard and the Prophet were one and the same character; and you _know_, that although I prophesy curses, I pray fervently for blessings. Farewell, Brother of my Soul!

----O ever found the same, And trusted and belov'd![1114:2]

Never without an emotion of honest pride do I subscribe myself Your grateful and affectionate friend, S. T. COLERIDGE.

BRISTOL, _December 26, 1796_.

FOOTNOTES:

[1113:1] Published 4to, 1796: reprinted in _P. and D. W._, 1877, i. 165-8.

[1113:2] The quotation is from an apology addressed 'Meliori suo', prefixed to the Second Book of the _Silvae_:--'nec nunc eam (_sc._ celeritatem) apud te jacto qui nosti: sed et caeteris indico, ne quis asperiore limâ carmen examinet et a confuso scriptum, et dolenti datum cum paene sint supervacua sint tarda solatia.' Coleridge has 'adapted' the words of Statius to point his own moral.

[1113:3] _Multâ cruciata limâ_ [S. T. C.] [SILV. lib. iv. 7, 26.]

[1114:1] From Dr. Johnson's Preface to the _Dictionary of the English Language_. _Works_, 1806, ii. 59.

[1114:2] Akenside's _Pleasures of the Imagination_ (Second Version), Bk. I.

Preface to the MS. of _Osorio_.

[Vide _ante_, p. 519.]

In this sketch of a tragedy, all is imperfect, and much obscure. Among other equally great defects (millstones round the slender neck of its merits) it presupposes a long story; and this long story, which yet is necessary to the complete understanding of the play, is not half told. Albert had sent a letter informing his family that he should arrive about such a time by ship; he was shipwrecked; and wrote a private letter to Osorio, informing him alone of this accident, that he might not shock Maria. Osorio destroyed the letter, and sent assassins to meet Albert. . . Worse than all, the growth of Osorio's character is nowhere explained--and yet I had most clear and psychologically accurate ideas of the whole of it. . . A man, who from constitutional calmness of appetites, is seduced into pride and the love of power, by these into misanthropism, or rather a contempt of mankind, and from thence, by the co-operation of envy, and a curiously modified love for a beautiful female (which is nowhere developed in the play), into a most atrocious guilt. A man who is in truth a weak man, yet always duping himself into the belief that he has a soul of iron. Such were some of my leading ideas.

In short the thing is but an embryo, and whilst it remains in manuscript, which it is destined to do, the critic would judge unjustly who should call it a miscarriage. It furnished me with a most important lesson, namely, that to have conceived strongly, does not always imply the power of successful execution. S. T. C.

[From _Early Years and Late Reflections_, by Clement Carlyon, M.D., 1856, i. 143-4.]

APPENDIX V

ADAPTATIONS

For a critical study of Coleridge's alterations in the text of the quotations from seventeenth-century poets, which were inserted in the _Biographia Literaria_ (2 vols., 1817), or were prefixed as mottoes to Chapters in the rifacimento of _The Friend_ (3 vols., 1818), see an article by J. D Campbell entitled 'Coleridge's Quotations,' which was published in the _Athenæum_, August 20, 1892, and 'Adaptations', _P. W._, 1893, pp. 471-4. Most of these textual alterations or garblings were noted by H. N. Coleridge in an edition of _The Friend_ published in 1837; Mr. Campbell was the first to collect and include the mottoes and quotations in a sub-section of Coleridge's Poetical Works. Three poems, (1) 'An Elegy Imitated from Akenside', (2) 'Farewell to Love ', (3) 'Mutual Passion altered and modernized from an Old Poet', may be reckoned as 'Adaptations'. The first and third of these composite productions lay no claim to originality, whilst the second, 'Farewell to Love', which he published anonymously in _The Courier_, September 27, 1806, was not included by Coleridge in _Sibylline Leaves_, or in 1828, 1829, 1834. For (1) vide _ante_, p. 69, and _post_, _Read_:--p. 1123; for (2) _ante_, p. 402; and for (3) vide _post_, p. 1118.

FULKE GREVILLE. LORD BROOKE

God and the World they worship still together, Draw not their lawes to him, but his to theirs, Untrue to both, so prosperous in neither, Amid their owne desires still raising feares; 'Unwise, as all distracted powers be; 5 Strangers to God, fooles in humanitie.'

Too good for great things, and too great for good; Their Princes serve their Priest, &c. _A Treatie of Warres_, st. lxvi-vii.

MOTTO TO 'A LAY SERMON', 1817

God and the World _we_ worship still together, Draw not _our_ Laws to Him, but _His_ to ours; Untrue to both, so prosperous in neither, _The imperfect Will brings forth but barren Flowers_! Unwise as all distracted _Interests_ be, 5 Strangers to God, fools in Humanity: Too good for great things and too great for good, _While still_ 'I dare not' waits upon 'I wou'd'! S. T. C.

The same quotation from Lord Brooke is used to illustrate Aphorism xvii, 'Inconsistency,' _Aids to Reflection_, 1825, p. 93 (with the word 'both', substituted for 'still' in line 1). Line 8 is from _Macbeth_,

## Act I, Sc. VII, 'Letting I dare not,' &c. The reference to Lord Brooke

was first given in _N. and Q._, Series VIII, Vol. ii, p. 18.

[Vide _ante_, p. 403]

SONNET XCIV [Coelica]

The _Augurs_ we of all the world admir'd Flatter'd by Consulls, honour'd by the State, Because the event of all that was desir'd They seem'd to know, and keepe the books of Fate: Yet though abroad they thus did boast their wit, 5 Alone among themselves they scornèd it.

Mankind that with his wit doth gild his heart Strong in his Passions, but in Goodnesse weake, Making great vices o're the lesse an Art, Breeds wonder, and mouves Ignorance to speake, 10 Yet when his fame is to the highest borne, We know enough to laugh his praise to scorne.

Lines on a King and Emperor-Making-King altered from the 93rd Sonnet of Fulke Greville, the friend of Sir Philip Sydney.

ll. 1-4 The augurs, &c.

l. 5 _Abroad they thus did boast each other's_ wit.

l. 7 _Behold yon Corsican with dropsied heart_

l. 9 _He wonder breeds, makes_ ignorance to speak

l. 12 TALLEYRAND WILL _laugh his Creature's_ praise to scorn.

First published in the _Courier_, Sept. 12, 1806. See Editor's note, _Athenæum_, April 25, 1903, p. 531.

OF HUMANE LEARNING

STANZA CLX

For onely that man understands indeed, And well remembers, which he well can doe, The Laws live, onely where the Law doth breed Obedience to the workes it bindes us to: And as the life of Wisedome hath exprest, If this ye know, then doe it, and be blest. LORD BROOKE.

Motto to _Notes on a Barrister's Hints on Evangelical Preaching, 1810_, in _Lit. Rem._, 1839, iv. 320.

ll. 2, 3

_Who_ well remembers _what_ he well can do; The _Faith_ lives only where the _faith_ doth breed.

SIR JOHN DAVIES

ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL

(Sect. iv. Stanzas 12-14.)

Doubtless, this could not be, but that she turns Bodies to spirits, by sublimation strange; As fire converts to fire the things it burns; As we our meats into our nature change.

From their gross matter she abstracts the forms, 5 And draws a kind of quintessence from things; Which to her proper nature she transforms, To bear them light, on her celestial wings.

This doth she, when, from things particular, She doth abstract the universal kinds, 10 Which bodiless and immaterial are, And can be only lodg'd within our minds.

Stanza 12 Doubtless, &c. l. 2 Bodies to _spirit_, &c. l. 4. As we our _food_, &c.

Stanza 13, l. 1 From their gross matter she abstracts _their_ forms.

Stanza 14

_Thus doth she, when from individual states_ She doth abstract the universal kinds; _Which then re-clothed in divers names and_ fates _Steal access through our senses to our_ minds.

_Biog. Lit._, Cap. xiv, 1817, II, 12; 1847, II, Cap. i, pp. 14-15. The alteration was first noted in 1847.

DONNE

ECLOGUE. 'ON UNWORTHY WISDOM'

So reclused Hermits oftentimes do know More of Heaven's glory than a worldly can: As Man is of the World, the Heart of Man Is an Epitome of God's great Book Of Creatures, and Men need no further look.

These lines are quoted by Coleridge in _The Friend_, 1818, i. 192; 1850, i. 147. The first two lines run thus:

_The_ recluse _Hermit oft'_ times _more doth_ know _Of the world's inmost wheels_, than worldlings can, &c.

The alteration was first pointed out in an edition of _The Friend_ issued by H. N. Coleridge in 1837.

LETTER TO SIR HENRY GOODYERE

Stanzas II, III, IV, and a few words from Stanza V, are prefixed as the motto to Essay XV of _The Friend_, 1818, i. 179; 1850, i. 136.

For Stanza II, line 3--

But he which dwells there is not so; for he _With him_ who dwells there 'tis not so; for he

For Stanza III--

So had your body her morning, hath her noon, And shall not better, her next change is night: But her fair larger guest, t'whom sun and moon Are sparks, and short liv'd, claims another right.--

The motto reads:

_Our bodies had their_ morning, have their noon, And shall not better--the next change is night, But _their_ fair larger guest, t'whom sun and moon Are sparks and short liv'd, claims another right.

The alteration was first noted in 1837. In 1850 line 3 of Stanza III 'fair' is misprinted 'far'.

BEN JONSON

A NYMPH'S PASSION

I love, and he loves me again, Yet dare I not tell who; For if the nymphs should know my swain, I fear they'd love him too; Yet if it be not known, 5 The pleasure is as good as none, For that's a narrow joy is but our own.

I'll tell, that if they be not glad, They yet may envy me; But then if I grow jealous mad, 10 And of them pitied be, It were a plague 'bove scorn, And yet it cannot be forborne, Unless my heart would, as my thought, be torn.

He is, if they can find him, fair, 15 And fresh and fragrant too, As summer's sky or purged air, And looks as lilies do That are this morning blown; Yet, yet I doubt he is not known, 20 And fear much more, that more of him be shown.

But he hath eyes so round and bright, As make away my doubt, Where Love may all his torches light Though hate had put them out; 25 But then, t'increase my fears, What nymph soe'er his voice but hears, Will be my rival, though she have but ears.

I'll tell no more, and yet I love, And he loves me; yet no 30 One unbecoming thought doth move From either heart, I know; But so exempt from blame, As it would be to each a fame, If love or fear would let me tell his name. 35

_Underwoods_ No. V.

MUTUAL PASSION

ALTERED AND MODERNIZED FROM AN OLD POET

I love, and he loves me again, Yet dare I not tell who: For if the nymphs should know my swain, I fear they'd love him too. _Yet while my joy's unknown, 5 Its rosy buds are but half-blown: What no one with me shares, seems scarce my own._

I'll tell, that if they be not glad, They yet may envy me: But then if I grow jealous mad, 10 And of them pitied be, _'Twould vex me worse than_ scorn! And yet it cannot be forborn, Unless my heart would _like_ my _thoughts_ be torn.

He is, if they can find him, fair 15 And fresh, and fragrant too; _As after rain the summer air_, And looks as lilies do, That are this morning blown! Yet, yet I doubt, he is not known, 20 _Yet, yet I fear to have him fully shewn_.

But he hath eyes so _large_, and bright. _Which none can see, and_ doubt _That_ Love _might thence_ his torches light Tho' Hate had put them out! 25 But then to _raise_ my fears, _His voice--what maid so ever_ hears Will be my rival, tho' she have but ears.

I'll tell no more! _yet I love him_, And ho loves me; _yet so, 30 That never one low wish did dim Our love's pure light, I know-- In each so free from_ blame, _That both of us would gain new_ fame, If love's _strong fears_ would let me tell his name! 35

First published in _The Courier_, September 21, 1811; included in the supplementary sheet to _Sibylline Leaves_; reprinted in _Essays on His Own Times_, iii. 995, 996, and in the Appendix to _P. W._, 1863. It was first pointed out by W. E. Henley that 'Mutual Passion' is an adaptation of 'A Nymph's Passion', No. V of Ben Jonson's _Underwoods_.

UNDERWOODS

No. VI. THE HOUR-GLASS.

Consider this small dust, here in the glass By atoms moved: Could you believe that this the body was Of one that loved; And in his mistress' flame playing like a fly, 5 Was turned to cinders by her eye: Yes; and in death, as life unblest, To have 't exprest, Even ashes of lovers find no rest.

THE HOUR-GLASS

O think, fair maid! these sands that pass In slender threads adown this glass, Were once the body of some swain, Who lov'd too well and lov'd in vain, And let one soft sigh heave thy breast, 5 That not in life alone unblest E'en lovers' ashes find no rest.

First published in _The Courier_, August 30, 1811; included in _Essays on His Own Times_, iii. 994. Now collected for the first time.

The original is a translation of a Latin Epigram, 'Horologium Pulvereum, Tumulus Alcippi,' by Girolamo Amaltei.

THE POETASTER. Act I, Scene 1.

O my Tibullus, Let us not blame him; for against such chances The heartiest strife of virtue is not proof. We may read constancy and fortitude To other souls; but had ourselves been struck 5 With the like planet, had our loves, like his, Been ravished from us by injurious death, And in the height and heat of our best days, It would have cracked our sinews, shrunk our veins, And made our very heart-strings jar like his. 10

* * * * *

Let us not blame him: for against such chances The heartiest strife of _manhood_ is _scarce_ proof. We may read constancy and fortitude To other souls--but had ourselves been struck _Even_ in the height and heat of our _keen wishing_, _It might have made_ our heart-strings jar, like his.

First published as a quotation in the _Historie and Gestes of Maxilian_ contributed to _Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine_, January, 1822. Reprinted as Fragment No. 59, _P. W._, 1893, p. 460.

SAMUEL DANIEL

EPISTLE TO SIR THOMAS EGERTON, KNIGHT

Stanza 5

Must there be still some discord mix'd among, The harmony of men; whose mood accords Best with contention, tun'd t' a note of wrong? That when war fails, peace must make war with words, And b' armed unto destruction ev'n as strong 5 As were in ages past our civil swords: Making as deep, although unbleeding wounds; That when as fury fails, wisdom confounds.

Stanza 14

Seeing ev'n injustice may be regular; And no proportion can there be betwixt 10 Our actions, which in endless motion are, And th' ordinances, which are always fix'd: Ten thousand laws more cannot reach so far But malice goes beyond, or lives immix'd So close with goodness, as it ever will 15 Corrupt, disguise, or counterfeit it still.

Stanza 15

And therefore did those glorious monarchs (who Divide with God the style of majesty, &c.

Stanza 5

Must there be still some discord mix'd among The harmony of men; whose mood accords Best with contention tun'd _to notes_ of wrong? That when War fails, Peace must make war with words, _With words_ unto destruction _arm'd more_ strong 5 _Than ever were our foreign Foeman's swords_; Making as deep, _tho' not yet bleeding_ wounds? _What War left scarless, Calumny_ confounds.

Stanza 14

_Truth lies entrapp'd where Cunning finds no bar_: _Since_ no proportion can there be betwixt 10 Our actions, which in endless motion are, And ordinances, which are always fixt. Ten thousand Laws more cannot reach so far But Malice goes beyond, or lives _commixt_ So close with Goodness, _that_, it ever will 15 Corrupt, disguise, or counterfeit it still.

Stanza 15

And therefore _would our glorious Alfred, who Join'd with the King's the good man's Majesty, Not leave Law's labyrinth without a clue-- Gave to deep skill its just authority_,-- 20

* * * * *

_But the last Judgement (this his Jury's plan)-- Left to the natural sense of Work-day Man_

_Adapted from an elder Poet._

Motto to _The Friend_, Essay xiii, 1818, i. 149; 1850, i. 113. Coleridge's alteration of, and addition to the text of Daniel's poem were first pointed out in an edition of _The Friend_, issued by H. N. Coleridge in 1837.

MUSOPHILUS

STANZA CXLVII.

Who will not grant, and therefore this observe, No state stands sure, but on the grounds of right, Of virtue, knowledge, judgment to preserve, And all the powers of learning requisite? Though other shifts a present turn may serve, Yet in the trial they will weigh too light.

* * * * *

_Blind is that soul which from this truth can swerve_ No state stands sure, &c.

Motto to Essay xvi of _The Friend_, 1818, i. 190; 1850, i. 145. The alteration was first noted in 1837.

STANZAS XXVII, XXIX, XXX.

Although the stronger constitution shall Wear out th' infection of distemper'd days, And come with glory to out-live this fall, Recov'ring of another spring of praise, &c.

For these lines are the veins and arteries And undecaying life-strings of those hearts, That still shall pant, and still shall exercise The motion, spir't and nature both imparts, And shall with those alive so sympathize, As nourish'd with stern powers, enjoy their parts.

O blessed letters! that combine in one All ages past, and make one live with all: By you we do confer with who are gone, And the dead-living unto council call: By you the unborn shall have communion Of what we feel, and what does us befall.

* * * * *

O blessed letters, &c.

Since Writings are the Veins, the Arteries, And undecaying Life-strings of those Hearts, They still shall pant and still shall exercise Their mightiest powers when Nature none imparts: And the strong constitution of their Praise Wear out the infection of distemper'd days

_Motto_ to 'The Landing-Place', Essay i, _The Friend_, 1818, i. 215; 1850, 165. The piecing together of the lines in the second stanza of the motto was first noted by J. D. Campbell, in _The Athenæum_, art. 'Coleridge's Quotations,' Aug. 20, 1892.

CHRISTOPHER HARVEY

THE SYNAGOGUE

THE NATIVITY OR CHRISTMAS DAY.

Unfold thy face, unmask thy ray, Shine forth, bright sun, double the day; Let no malignant misty fume Nor foggy vapour, once presume To interpose thy perfect sights, 5 This day which makes us use thy lights For ever better that we could That blessed object once behold, Which is both the circumference And centre of all excellence, &c. 10

Substitute the following for the fifth to the eighth line.

To sheath or blunt one happy ray, That wins new splendour from the day,-- This day that gives thee power to rise, And shine on hearts as well as eyes: This birth-day of all souls, when first On eyes of flesh and blood did burst That primal great lucific light, That rays to thee, to us gave sight. [S. T. C.]

First published in 'Notes on Harvey's Synagogue', _Notes and Lectures_, &c., 1849, ii. 263. Now first collected.

Coleridge's notes to _The Synagogue_, including these original lines, were reprinted in the notes to _The Complete Poems_ of Christopher Harvey, 1874, p. 47.

MARK AKENSIDE

BLANK VERSE INSCRIPTIONS

No. III.

[For Elegy Imitated from one of Akenside's 'Blank Verse Inscriptions', vide _ante_, p. 69.]

Whoe'er thou art whose path in Summer lies Through yonder village, turn thee where the Grove Of branching oaks a rural palace old Embosoms--there dwells Albert, generous lord Of all the harvest round. And onward thence 5 A low plain chapel fronts the morning light Fast by a silent rivulet. Humbly walk, O stranger, o'er the consecrated ground; And on that verdant Hillock, which thou seest Beset with osiers, let thy pious hand 10 Sprinkle fresh water from the brook, and strew Sweet-smelling flowers--for there doth Edmund rest, The learned shepherd; for each rural art Famed, and for songs harmonious, and the woes Of ill-requited love. The faithless pride 15 Of fair Matilda sank him to the grave In manhood's prime. But soon did righteous Heaven With tears, with sharp remorse, and pining care Avenge her falsehood. Nor could all the gold And nuptial pomp, which lured her plighted faith 20 From Edmund to a loftier husband's home, Relieve her breaking heart, or turn aside The strokes of death. Go, traveller, relate The mournful story. Haply some fair maid May hold it in remembrance, and be taught 25 That riches cannot pay for truth or love.

W. L. BOWLES

----I yet remain To mourn the hours of youth (yet mourn in vain) That fled neglected: wisely thou hast trod The better path--and that high meed which God Assign'd to virtue, tow'ring from the dust, 5 Shall wait thy rising, Spirit pure and just!

O God! how sweet it were to think, that all Who silent mourn around this gloomy ball Might hear the voice of joy;--but 'tis the will Of man's great Author, that thro' good and ill 10 Calm he should hold his course, and so sustain His varied lot of pleasure, toil and pain!

1793

['These lines,' which 'were found in Mr. Coleridge's handwriting in one of the Prayer Books in the Chapel of Jesus College, Cambridge,' were first published in _Lit. Rem._, 1836, i. 34. They were first collected in _P. W._, 1885, i. 127. The first six lines are (see _P. W._, 1893, p. 474) taken from Bowles's elegy 'On the Death of Henry Headley'. J. D. Campbell surmised that the last six lines 'practically belonged to the same poem', but of this there is no evidence. The note of the elegy is a lament for the 'untimely sorrow' which had befallen an innocent sufferer, and the additional lines, which Coleridge composed or quoted, moralized the theme.

_Note._ Bowles wrote, I, alas, remain (l. 1), and 'Ordain'd for virtue' (l. 5).]

NAPOLEON

Then we may thank ourselves, Who spell-bound by the magic name of Peace Dream golden dreams. Go, warlike Britain, go, For the grey olive-branch change thy green laurels: Hang up thy rusty helmet, that the bee 5 May have a hive, or spider find a loom! Instead of doubling drum and thrilling fife Be lull'd in lady's lap with amorous flutes: But for Napoleon, know, he'll scorn this calm: The ruddy planet at _his_ birth bore sway, 10 Sanguine adust his humour, and wild fire His ruling element. Rage, revenge, and cunning Make up the temper of this Captain's valour.

_Adapted from an old Play._

First published in _The Friend_, 1818, ii. 115. In later editions the word 'Adapted' was omitted. First collected in 1893.

J. D. Campbell (_P. W._, 1893, p. 473) suggests that the 'calm' was, probably, the 'Peace of Amiens'.

APPENDIX VI

ORIGINALS OF TRANSLATIONS

[Vide _ante_, p. 307]

MILESISCHES MÄHRCHEN

Ein milesisches Mährchen, Adonide: Unter heiligen Lorbeerwipfeln glänzte Hoch auf rauschendem Vorgebirg ein Tempel. Aus den Fluthen erhub, von Pan gesegnet, In Gedüfte der Ferne sich ein Eiland. 5 Oft, in mondlicher Dämmrung, schwebt' ein Nachen Vom Gestade des heerdenreichen Eilands, Zur umwaldeten Bucht, wo sich ein Steinpfad Zwischen Mirten zum Tempelhain emporwand. Dort im Rosengebüsch, der Huldgöttinnen 10 Marmorgruppe geheiligt, fleht' oft einsam Eine Priesterin, reizend wie Apelles Seine Grazien malt, zum Sohn Cytherens, Ihren Kallias freundlich zu umschweben Und durch Wogen und Dunkel ihn zu leiten, 15 Bis der nächtliche Schiffer, wonneschauernd, An den Busen ihr sank.

The German original of the translation was published in _Poems_, 1852, Notes, pp. 387-9.

[Vide _ante_, p. 307]

SCHILLER

DER EPISCHE HEXAMETER

Schwindelnd trägt er dich fort auf rastlos strömenden Wogen; Hinter dir siehst du, du siehst vor dir nur Himmel und Meer.

DAS DISTICHON

Im Hexameter steigt des Springquells flüssige Säule; Im Pentameter drauf fällt sie melodisch herab.

See _Poems_, 1844, p. 372.

[Vide _ante_, p. 308]

STOLBERG

ON A CATARACT

Unsterblicher Jüngling! Du strömest hervor Aus der Felsenkluft. Kein Sterblicher sah Die Wiege des Starken; 5 Es hörte kein Ohr Das Lallen des Edlen im sprudelnden Quell.

Dich kleidet die Sonne In Strahlen des Ruhmes! Sie malet mit Farben des himmlischen Bogens 10 Die schwebenden Wolken der stäubenden Fluth.

See _Poems_, 1844, pp. 371-2.

[Vide _ante_, p. 309]

STOLBERG

BEI WILHELM TELLS GEBURTSSTÄTTE IM KANTON URI

Seht diese heilige Kapell! Hier ward geboren Wilhelm Tell, Hier wo der Altar Gottes steht Stand seiner Eltern Ehebett!

Mit Mutterfreuden freute sich 5 Die liebe Mutter inniglich, Die gedachte nicht an ihren Schmerz Und hielt das Knäblein an ihr Herz.

Sie flehte Gott: er sei dein Knecht, Sei stark und muthig und gerecht. 10 Gott aber dachte: ich thu' mehr Durch ihn als durch ein ganzes Heer.

Er gab dem Knaben warmes Blut, Des Rosses Kraft, des Adlers Muth, Im Felsennacken freien Sinn, 15 Des Falken Aug' und Feuer drin!

Dem Worte sein' und der Natur Vertraute Gott das Knäblein nur; Wo sich der Felsenstrom ergeusst Erhub sich früh des Helden Geist. 20

Das Ruder und die Gemsenjagd Hatt' seine Glieder stark gemacht; Er scherzte früh mit der Gefahr Und wusste nicht wie gross er war.

Er wusste nicht dass seine Hand, 25 Durch Gott gestärkt, sein Vaterland Erretten würde von der Schmach Der Knechtschaft, deren Joch er brach.

FRIEDRICH LEOPOLD GRAF ZU STOLBERG, 1775

The German original is supplied in the Notes to _P. W._, 1893, pp. 618, 619.

[Vide _ante_, p. 310]

SCHILLER

DITHYRAMBE

Nimmer, das glaubt mir, Erscheinen die Götter, Nimmer allein. Kaum dass ich Bacchus, den Lustigen, habe, Kommt auch schon Amor, der lächelnde Knabe, 5 Phöbus, der Herrliche, findet sich ein! Sie nahen, sie kommen-- Die Himmlischen alle, Mit Göttern erfüllt sich Die irdische Halle. 10

Sagt, wie bewirth' ich, Der Erdegeborne, Himmlischen Chor? Schenket mir euer unsterbliches Leben, Götter! Was kann euch der Sterbliche geben? 15 Hebet zu eurem Olymp mich empor. Die Freude, sie wohnt nur In Jupiters Saale; O füllet mit Nektar, O reicht mir die Schale! 20

Reich' ihm die Schale! Schenke dem Dichter, Hebe, nur ein! Netz' ihm die Augen mit himmlischem Thaue, Dass er den Styx, den verhassten, nicht schaue, 25 Einer der Unsern sich dünke zu seyn. Sie rauschet, sie perlet, Die himmlische Quelle: Der Busen wird ruhig, Das Auge wird helle. 30

The German original is printed in the Notes to _P. W._, 1893, p. 619.

[Vide _ante_, p. 311]

GOETHE

_Wilhelm Meister_, Bk. III, Cap. 1.--_Sämmtliche Werke_, 1860, iii, p. 194.

Kennst du das Land, wo die Citronen blühn, Im dunkeln Laub die Goldorangen glühn, Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht, Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht Dahin! Dahin 5 Möcht' ich mit dir, o mein Geliebter, ziehn.

[Vide _ante_, p. 311]

FRANÇOIS-ANTOINE-EUGÈNE DE PLANARD

'BATELIER, DIT LISETTE'

_Marie, opéra-comique en trois actes_, 1826, p. 9.

SUSETTE, _assise dans la barque_.

Batelier, dit Lisette, Je voudrais passer l'eau, Mais je suis bien pauvrette Pour payer le bateau: --Venez, venez, toujours . . . 5 Et vogue la nacelle Qui porte mes amours!

(_Ils abordent. Lubin reste sur la rive à attacher sa barque._)

SUSETTE, _s'avancant en scène_.

Je m'en vais chez mon père, Dit Lisette à Colin. --Eh bien! Crois-tu, ma chère, 10 Qu'il m'accorde ta main? --Ah! répondit la belle, Osez, osez toujours. --Et vogue la nacelle Qui porte mes amours! 15

LUBIN et SUSETTE

Après le mariage, Toujours dans son bateau Colin fut le plus sage Des maris du hameau. A sa chanson fidèle, 20 Il répète toujours: Et vogue la nacelle Qui porte mes amours!

[Vide _ante_, p. 313]

DES KNABEN WUNDERHORN

Wenn ich ein Vöglein wär Und auch zwei Flüglein hätt', Flög' ich zu dir; Weil's aber nicht kann sein, Weil's aber nicht kann sein, 5 Bleib' ich allhier.

Bin ich gleich weit von dir, Bin ich doch im Schlaf bei dir Und red' mit dir; Wenn ich erwachen thu', 10 Wenn ich erwachen thu', Bin ich allein.

Es vergeht keine Stund' in der Nacht Da mein Herz nicht erwacht Und an dich gedenkt. 15 Wie du mir viel tausendmal, Wie du mir viel tausendmal, Dein Herz geschenkt.

STOLBERG

Lied eines deutschen Knaben.--_Gesammelte Werke_, Hamburg, 1827, i. 42.

Mein Arm wird stark und gross mein Muth, Gieb, Vater, mir ein Schwert! Verachte nicht mein junges Blut; Ich bin der Väter werth!

Ich finde fürder keine Ruh 5 Im weichen Knabenstand! Ich stürb', O Vater, stolz, wie du, Den Tod für's Vaterland!

Schon früh in meiner Kindheit war Mein täglich Spiel der Krieg! 10 Im Bette träumt' ich nur Gefahr Und Wunden nur und Sieg.

Mein Feldgeschrei erweckte mich Aus mancher Türkenschlacht; Noch jüngst ein Faustschlag, welchen ich 15 Dem Bassa zugedacht!

Da neulich unsrer Krieger Schaar Auf dieser Strasse zog, Und, wie ein Vogel, der Husar Das Haus vorüberflog, 20

Da gaffte starr und freute sich Der Knaben froher Schwarm: Ich aber, Vater, härmte mich, Und prüfte meinen Arm!

Mein Arm ist stark und gross mein Muth, 25 Gieb, Vater, mir ein Schwert! Verachte nicht mein junges Blut; Ich bin der Väter werth!

The German original is printed in the Notes to _P. W._, 1893, pp. 617, 618.

[Vide _ante_, p. 318]

LESSING

_Sämmtliche Schriften_, vol. i, p. 50, ed. Lachmann-Maltzahn, Leipzig, 1853.

DIE NAMEN.

Ich fragte meine Schöne: Wie soll mein Lied dich nennen? Soll dich als Dorimana, Als Galathee, als Chloris, Als Lesbia, als Doris, 5 Die Welt der Enkel kennen? Ach! Namen sind nur Töne; Sprach meine holde Schöne, Wähl' selbst. Du kannst mich Doris, Und Galathee und Chloris 10 Und ---- wie du willst mich nennen: Nur nenne mich die deine.

The German original is printed in the Notes to _P. W._, 1893, pp. 619, 620.

[Vide _ante_, p. 327]

STOLBERG

HYMNE AN DIE ERDE.

Erde, du Mutter zahlloser Kinder, Mutter und Amme! Sei mir gegrüsst! Sei mir gesegnet im Feiergesange! Sieh, O Mutter, hier lieg' ich an deinen schwellenden Brüsten! Lieg', O Grüngelockte, von deinem wallenden Haupthaar Sanft umsäuselt und sanft geküsst von thauenden Lüften! 5 Ach, du säuselst Wonne mir zu, und thauest mir Wehmuth In das Herz, dass Wehmuth und Wonn' aus schmelzender Seele Sich in Thränen und Dank und heiligen Liedern ergiessen! Erde, du Mutter zahlloser Kinder, Mutter und Amme! Schwester der allesfreuenden Sonne, des freundlichen Mondes 10 Und der strahlenden Stern', und flammenbeschweiften Kometen, Eine der jüngsten Töchter der allgebärenden Schöpfung, Immer blühendes Weib des segenträufelnden Himmels! Sprich, O Erde, wie war dir als du am ersten der Tage Deinen heiligen Schooss dem buhlenden Himmel enthülltest? 15 Dein Erröthen war die erste der Morgenröthen, Als er im blendenden Bette von weichen schwellenden Wolken Deine gürtende Binde mit siegender Stärke dir löste! Schauer durchbebten die stille Natur und tausend und tausend Leben keimten empor aus der mächtigen Liebesumarmung. 20 Freudig begrüssten die Fluthen des Meeres neuer Bewohner Mannigfaltige Schaaren; es staunte der werdende Wallfisch Ueber die steigenden Ströme die seiner Nasen entbrausten; Junges Leben durchbrüllte die Auen, die Wälder, die Berge, Irrte blökend im Thal, und sang in blühenden Stauden. 25

The German original is printed in the Notes to _P. W._, 1893, p. 615.

[Vide _ante_, p. 376]

FRIEDERIKE BRUN

CHAMOUNY BEYM SONNENAUFGANGE

(Nach Klopstock.)

'Aus tiefem Schatten des schweigenden Tannenhains Erblick' ich bebend dich, Scheitel der Ewigkeit, Blendenden Gipfel, von dessen Höhe Ahndend mein Geist ins Unendliche schwebet!

'Wer senkte den Pfeiler tief in der Erde Schooss, 5 Der, seit Jahrtausenden, fest deine Masse stützt? Wer thürmte hoch in des Aethers Wölbung Mächtig und kühn dein umstrahltes Antlitz?

'Wer goss Euch hoch aus des ewigen Winters Reich, O Zackenströme, mit Donnergetös' herab? 10 Und wer gebietet laut mit der Allmacht Stimme: "Hier sollen ruhen die starrenden Wogen"?

'Wer zeichnet dort dem Morgensterne die Bahn? Wen kränzt mit Blüthen des ewigen Frostes Saum? Wem tönt in schrecklichen Harmonieen, 15 Wilder Arveiron, dein Wogengetümmel?

'Jehovah! Jehovah! Kracht's im berstenden Eis: Lawinendonner rollen's die Kluft hinab: Jehovah Rauscht's in den hellen Wipfeln, Flüstert's an rieselnden Silberbächen.' 20

See _Poems_, 1844, p. 572.

[Vide _ante_, p. 392]

_Opere del Cavalier Giambattista Marino_, with introduction by Giuseppe Zirardini. Napoli, 1861, p. 550.

ALLA SUA AMICA

_Sonetto._

Donna, siam rei di morte. Errasti, errai; Di perdon non son degni i nostri errori, Tu che avventasti in me sì fieri ardori Io che le fiamme a sì bel sol furai.

Io che una fiera rigida adorai, 5 Tu che fosti sord' aspra a' miei dolori; Tu nell' ire ostinata, io negli amori: Tu pur troppo sdegnasti, io troppo amai.

Or la pena laggiù nel cieco Averno Pari al fallo n'aspetta. Arderà poi, 10 Chi visse in foco, in vivo foco eterno.

Quivi: se Amor fia giusto, amboduo noi, All' incendio dannati, avrem l' inferno, Tu nel mio core, ed io negli occhi tuoi.

The Italian original is printed in the Notes to _P. W._, 1893, p. 632.

[Vide _ante_, p. 409]

In diesem Wald, in diesen Gründen Herrscht nichts, als Freyheit, Lust und Ruh. Hier sagen wir der Liebe zu, Im dichtsten Schatten uns zu finden: Da find' ich dich, mich findest du. 5

The German original is translated from an MS. Notebook of ? 1801.

[Vide _ante_, p. 414]

THE MADMAN AND THE LETHARGIST

+Koinê par klisiê lêthargikos êde phrenoplêx keimenoi, allêlôn nouson apeskedasan. exethore klinês gar ho tolmêeis hypo lyssês, kai ton anaisthêton pantos etypte melous. plêgai d' amphoterois egenont' akos, hais ho men autôn 5 egreto, ton d' hypnô poulys eripse kopos.+

_Anthologia Græca_, Lib. 1, Cap. 45.

See Lessing's 'Zerstreute Anmerkungen über das Epigramm', _Sämmtliche Werke_, 1824, ii. 22.

[Vide _ante_, p. 427]

MADRIGALI DEL SIGNOR CAVALIER GUARINI

DIALOGO

FEDE, SPERANZA, CARITÀ.

FEDE.

Canti terreni amori Chi terreno hà il pensier, terreno il zelo; Noi Celesti Virtù cantiam del Cielo.

CARITÀ.

Mà chi fia, che vi ascolti Fuggirà i nostri accenti orecchia piena 5 De le lusinghe di mortal Sirena?

SPERANZA.

Cantiam pur, che raccolti Saran ben in virtù di chi li move; E suoneran nel Ciel, se non altrove.

FE. SP. CA.

Spirane dunque, eterno Padre, il canto, 10 Che già festi al gran Cantor Ebreo, Che poi tant' alto feo Suonar la gloria del tuo nomine santo.

CA. FE.

Noi siam al Ciel rapite E pur lo star in terra è nostra cura, 15 A ricondur à Dio l' alme smarrite.

FE. SP.

Così facciamo, e 'n questa valle oscura L' una sia scorta al sol d' l' intelletto, L' altra sostegno al vacillante affetto.

CA.

E com' è senz' amor l' anima viva? 20

SP. FE.

Come stemprata cetra, Che suona sì, mà di concento priva.

CA. SP.

Amor' è quel, ch' ogni gran dono impetra.

FE.

Mà tempo è, che le genti Odan l' alta virtù de' nostri accenti. 25

FE. SP. CA.

O mondo--eco la via; Chi vuol salir' al Ciel, creda, ami, e spetti. O félici pensieri Di chi, per far in Dio santa armonia E per ogn' altro suon l'anima hà sorda, 30 FEDE, SPERANZA, e CARITATE accenda.

Il Pastor Fido

Con le Rime del Signor Cavalier Battista Guarini In Amstelodami

Madrigali 138, 139. 1663 or 9.

[Vide _ante_, p. 435]

STOLBERG

'_An das Meer._'

Der blinde Sänger stand am Meer, Die Wogen rauschten um ihn her, Und Riesenthaten goldner Zeit Umrauschten ihn im Feierkleid.

Es kam zu ihm auf Schwanenschwung 5 Melodisch die Begeisterung, Und Iliad und Odyssee Entsteigen mit Gesang der See.

The German original is printed in the Notes to _P. W._, 1893, p. 639. See, too, Prefatory Memoir to the Tauchnitz edition of Coleridge's _Poems_, by P. Freiligrath (1852).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

OF THE

POETICAL WORKS OF SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE

1794-1834

The / FALL / of / ROBESPIERRE. / An / HISTORIC DRAMA. / By S. T. COLERIDGE, / Of Jesus College, Cambridge. / [=Cambridge=]: / Printed by Benjamin Flower, / For W. H. Lunn, and J. and J. Merrill; and Sold / By J. March, Norwich. / 1794. / [Price One Shilling.] [8{o}.

_Collation._--Title, one leaf, p. [i], [Dedication] To H. Martin, _Esq._, Of Jesus College, Cambridge (dated, September 22. 1794), p. [3]; Text, pp. [5]-37.

POEMS / on / VARIOUS SUBJECTS, /By S. T. COLERIDGE, / Late of Jesus College, Cambridge. / Felix curarum, cui non Heliconia cordi / Serta, nec imbelles Parnassi e vertice laurus! / Sed viget ingenium, et magnos accinctus in usus / Fert animus quascunque vices.--Nos tristia vitae / Solamur cantu. / STAT. _Silv._ Lib. iv. 4.[1135:1] / LONDON: / Printed for G. G. and J. Robinsons, and / J. Cottle, Bookseller, Bristol. / 1796. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Half-title, Poems / on Various Subjects, / By / S. T. Coleridge, / Late / Of Jesus College, Cambridge. /, one leaf, p. [i]; Title, one leaf, p. [iii]; Preface, pp. [v]-xi; Contents, pp. [xiii]-xvi; Text, pp. [1]-168; Notes on _Religious Musings_, pp. [169]-175; Notes, pp. [177]-188; Errata, p. [189].[1135:2]

_Contents._--

PREFACE

Poems on various subjects written at different times and prompted by very different feelings; but which will be read at one time and under the influence of one set of feelings--this is an heavy disadvantage: for we love or admire a poet in proportion as he developes our own sentiments and emotions, or reminds us of our own knowledge.

Compositions resembling those of the present volume are not unfrequently condemned for their querulous egotism. But egotism is to be condemned then only when it offends against time and place, as in an History or an Epic Poem. To censure it in a Monody or Sonnet is almost as absurd as to dislike a circle for being round. Why then write Sonnets or Monodies? Because they give me pleasure when perhaps nothing else could. After the more violent emotions of Sorrow, the mind demands solace and can find it in employment alone; but full of its late sufferings it can endure no employment not connected with those sufferings. Forcibly to turn away our attention to other subjects is a painful and in general an unavailing effort.

"But O how grateful to a wounded heart The tale of misery to impart; From others' eyes bid artless sorrows flow And raise esteem upon the base of woe!"[1136:1]

The communicativeness of our nature leads us to describe our own sorrows; in the endeavor to describe them intellectual activity is exerted; and by a benevolent law of our nature from intellectual

## activity a pleasure results which is gradually associated and mingles as

a corrective with the painful subject of the description. True! it may be answered, but how are the PUBLIC interested in your sorrows or your description? We are for ever attributing a personal unity to imaginary aggregates. What is the PUBLIC but a term for a number of scattered individuals of whom as many will be interested in these sorrows as have experienced the same or similar?

"Holy be the Lay, Which mourning soothes the mourner on his way!"

There is one species of egotism which is truly disgusting; not that which leads us to communicate our feelings to others, but that which would reduce the feelings of others to an identity with our own. The Atheist, who exclaims "pshaw!" when he glances his eye on the praises of Deity, is an Egotist; an old man, when he speaks contemptuously of love-verses, is an Egotist; and your sleek favourites of Fortune are Egotists, when they condemn all "melancholy discontented" verses.

Surely it would be candid not merely to ask whether the Poem pleases ourselves, but to consider whether or no there may not be others to whom it is well-calculated to give an innocent pleasure. With what anxiety every fashionable author avoids the word _I_!--now he transforms himself into a third person,--"the present writer"--now multiplies himself and swells into "_we_"--and all this is the watchfulness of guilt. Conscious that this said _I_ is perpetually intruding on his mind and that it monopolizes his heart, he is prudishly solicitous that it may not escape from his lips.

This disinterestedness of phrase is in general commensurate with selfishness of feeling: men old and hackneyed in the ways of the world are scrupulous avoiders of Egotism.

Of the following Poems a considerable number are styled "Effusions," in defiance of Churchill's line

"Effusion on Effusion _pour_ away."[1136:2]

I could recollect no title more descriptive of the manner and matter of the Poems--I might indeed have called the majority of them Sonnets--but they do not possess that _oneness_ of thought which I deem indispensible (sic) in a Sonnet--and (not a very honorable motive perhaps) I was fearful that the title "Sonnet" might have reminded my reader of the Poems of the Rev. W. L. Bowles--a comparison with whom would have sunk me below that mediocrity, on the surface of which I am at present enabled to float.

Some of the verses allude to an intended emigration to America on the scheme of an abandonment of individual property.

The Effusions signed C. L. were written by Mr. CHARLES LAMB, of the India House--independently of the signature their superior merit would have sufficiently distinguished them. For the rough sketch of Effusion XVI, I am indebted to Mr. FAVELL. And the first half of Effusion XV was written by the Author of "Joan of Arc", an Epic Poem.

NOTES ATTACHED TO A FIRST DRAFT OF THE PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION [_MS. R_]

(i)

I cannot conclude the Preface without expressing my grateful acknowledgments to Mr. Cottle, Bristol, for the liberality with which (with little probability I know of remuneration from the sale) he purchased the poems, and the typographical elegance by which he endeavoured to recommend them, (or)--the liberal assistance which he afforded me, by the purchase of the copyright with little probability of remuneration from the sale of the Poems.

[This acknowledgement, which was omitted from the Preface to the First Edition, was rewritten and included in the 'Advertisement' to the 'Supplement' to the Second Edition.]

(ii)

To EARL STANHOPE

A man beloved of Science and of Freedom, these Poems are respectfully inscribed by The Author.

[In a letter to Miss Cruikshank (? 1807) (_Early Recollections_, 1837, i. 201), Coleridge maintains that the 'Sonnet to Earl Stanhope', which was published in _Poems_, 1796 (vide _ante_, pp. 89, 90), 'was inserted by the fool of a publisher [Cottle prints 'inserted by Biggs, the fool of a printer'] in order, forsooth, that he might send the book and a letter to Earl Stanhope; who (to prove that he is not _mad_ in all things) treated both book and letter with silent contempt.' In a note Cottle denies this statement, and maintains that the 'book (handsomely bound) and the letter were sent to Lord S. by Mr. C. himself'. It is possible that before the book was published Coleridge had repented of Sonnet, Dedication, and Letter, and that the 'handsomely bound' volume was sent by Cottle and not by Coleridge, but the 'Dedication' is in his own handwriting and proves that he was, in the first instance at least, _particeps criminis_. See Note by J. D. Campbell, _P. W._, 1893, pp. 575, 576.]

CONTENTS

PAGE Monody to Chatterton 1 To the Rev. W. J. H. 12 Songs of the Pixies 15 Lines on the Man of Ross 26 Lines to a beautiful Spring 28 Epitaph on an Infant 31 Lines on a Friend 32 To a Young Lady with a Poem 36 Absence, a Farewell Ode 40 Effusion 1, to Bowles 45 Effusion 2, to Burke 46 Effusion 3, to Mercy 47 Effusion 4, to Priestley 48 Effusion 5, to Erskine 49 Effusion 6, to Sheridan 50 Effusion 7, to Siddons [signed 'C. L.'] 51 Effusion 8, to Kosciusco 52 Effusion 9, to Fayette 53 Effusion 10, to Earl Stanhope 54 Effusion 11 ['Was it some sweet device'--'C. L.'] 55 Effusion 12 ['Methinks how dainty sweet'--'C. L.'] 56 Effusion 13, written at Midnight ['C. L.'] 57 Effusion 14 59 Effusion 15 60 Effusion 16, to an Old Man 61 Effusion 17, to Genevieve 62 Effusion 18, to the Autumnal Moon 63 Effusion 19, to my own heart 64 Effusion 20, to Schiller 65 Effusion 21, on Brockley Coomb 66 [Effusion 22,] To a Friend with an unfinished Poem 68 Effusion 23, to the Nightingale 71 Effusion 24, in the manner of Spencer 73 Effusion 25, to Domestic Peace 77 Effusion 26, on a Kiss 78 Effusion 27 80 Effusion 28 82 Effusion 29, Imitated from Ossian 84 Effusion 30, Complaint of Ninathoma 86 Effusion 31, from the Welsh 88 Effusion 32, The Sigh 89 Effusion 33, to a Young Ass 91 Effusion 34, to an Infant 94 Effusion 35, written at Clevedon 96 Effusion 36, written in Early Youth 101 Epistle 1, written at Shurton Bars 111 Epistle 2, to a Friend in answer to a Melancholy Letter 119 Epistle 3, written after a Walk 122 Epistle 4, to the Author of Poems published in Bristol 125 Epistle 5, from a Young Lady 129 Religious Musings 139

III

[A SHEET OF SONNETS.]

_Collation._--No title; Introduction, pp. [1]-2; Text (of Sonnets Nos. i-xxviii), pp. 3-16. Signatures A. B. B{2}. [1796.] [8{o}.

[There is no imprint. In a letter to John Thelwall, dated December 17, 1796 (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i, 206), Coleridge writes, 'I have sent you . . . Item, a sheet of sonnets collected by me, for the use of a few friends, who payed the printing.' The 'sheet' is bound up with a copy of 'Sonnets and Other poems, by The Rev. W. L. Bowles A. M. Bath, printed by R. Cruttwell: and sold by C. Dilly, Poultry, London, MDCCXCVI. _Fourth Edition_,' which was presented to Mrs. Thelwall, Dec. 18, 1796. At the end of the 'Sonnets' a printed slip (probably a cutting from a newspaper) is inserted, which contains the lines 'To a FRIEND who had declared his intention of Writing no more Poetry' (vide _ante_, pp. 158, 159). This volume is now in the Dyce Collection, which forms part of the Victoria and Albert Museum. See _P. and D. W._, 1877, ii, pp. 375-9, and _P. W._, 1893, p. 544.]

_Contents._--

[INTRODUCTION]

The composition of the Sonnet has been regulated by Boileau in his Art / of Poetry, and since Boileau, by William Preston, in the elegant preface / to his Amatory Poems: the rules, which they would establish, are founded / on the practice of Petrarch. I have never yet been able to discover either / sense, nature, or poetic fancy in Petrarch's poems; they appear to me all / one cold glitter of heavy conceits and metaphysical abstractions. How/ever, Petrarch, although not the inventor of the Sonnet, was the first / who made it popular; and _his_ countrymen have taken his poems as the / model. Charlotte Smith and Bowles are they who first made the Sonnet / popular among the present English: I am justified therefore by analogy / in deducing its laws from _their_ compositions.

The Sonnet then is a small poem, in which some lonely feeling is de/veloped. It is limited to a _particular_ number of lines, in order that the / reader's mind having expected the close at the place in which he finds it, / may rest satisfied; and that so the poem may acquire, as it were, a _Totality_,/--in 15 plainer phrase, may become a _Whole_. It is confined to fourteen lines, / because as some particular number is necessary, and that particular / number must be a small one, it may as well be fourteen as any other / number. When no reason can be adduced against a thing, Custom is a / sufficient reason for it. Perhaps, if the Sonnet were comprized in less / than fourteen lines, it would become a serious Epigram; if it extended to / more, it would encroach on the province of the Elegy. Poems, in which / no lonely feeling is developed, are not Sonnets because the Author has / chosen to write them in fourteen lines; they should rather be entitled / Odes, or Songs, or Inscriptions. The greater part of Warton's Sonnets are / severe and masterly likenesses of the style of the Greek +epigrammata+.

In a Sonnet then we require a developement of some lonely feeling, by / whatever cause it may have been excited; but those Sonnets appear to me / the most exquisite, in which moral Sentiments, Affections, or Feelings, / are deduced from, and associated with, the scenery of Nature. Such / compositions generate a habit of thought highly favourable to delicacy of / character. They create a sweet and indissoluble union between the / intellectual and the material world. Easily remembered from their briefness, / and interesting alike to the eye and the affections, these are the poems / which we can "lay up in our heart, and our soul," and repeat them "when / we walk by the way, and when we lie down, and when we rise up". / Hence the Sonnets of _Bowles_ derive their marked superiority over all / other Sonnets; hence they domesticate with the heart, and become, as it / were, a part of our identity.

Respecting the metre of a Sonnet, the Writer should consult his own / convenience.--Rhymes, many or few, or no rhymes at all--whatever the / chastity of his ear may prefer, whatever the rapid expression of his / feelings will permit;--all these things are left at his own disposal. A same/ness in the final sound of its words is the great and grievous defect of the / Italian language. That rule, therefore, which the Italians have estab/lished, of exactly _four_ different sounds in the Sonnet, seems to have arisen / from their wish to have _as many_, not from any dread of finding _more_. But / surely it is ridiculous to make the _defect_ of a foreign language a reason for / our not availing ourselves of one of the marked excellencies of our own. / "The Sonnet (says Preston,) will ever be cultivated by those who write on / tender, pathetic subjects. It is peculiarly adapted to the state of a man / violently agitated by a real passion, and wanting composure and vigor of / mind to methodize his thought. It is fitted to express a momentary burst / of Passion" etc. Now, if there be one species of composition more difficult / and artificial than another, it is an English Sonnet on the Italian Model. / Adapted to the agitations of a real passion! Express momentary bursts / of feeling in it! I should sooner expect to write pathetic _Axes_ or _pour / forth Extempore Eggs_ and _Altars_![1140:1] But the best confutation of such idle rules / is to be found in the Sonnets of those who have observed them, in their / inverted sentences, their quaint phrases, and incongruous mixture of / obsolete and Spenserian words: and when, at last, the thing is toiled and / hammered into fit shape, it is in general racked and tortured Prose rather / than any thing resembling Poetry. Miss Seward, who has perhaps / succeeded the best in these laborious trifles and who most dogmatically / insists on what she calls "the sonnet-claim," has written a very in/genious although unintentional burlesque on her own system, in the / following lines prefixed to the Poems of a Mr. Carey.

"Prais'd be the Poet, who the sonnet-claim, Severest of the orders that belong Distinct and separate to the Delphic song 70 Shall reverence, nor its appropriate name Lawless assume: peculiar is its frame-- From him derived, who spurn'd the city throng, And warbled sweet the rocks and woods among, Lonely Valclusa! and that heir of Fame, 75 Our greater Milton, hath in many a lay Woven on this arduous model, clearly shewn That English verse may happily display Those strict energic measures which alone Deserve the name of Sonnet, and convey 80 A spirit, force, and grandeur, all their own! "ANNE SEWARD."

"_A spirit, force, and grandeur, all their own!!_"--EDITOR.[1140:2]

[SONNETS]

SONNET

I. TO A FRIEND

'Bereave me not of these delightful Dreams.'--W. L. BOWLES.[1141:1]

II. 'With many a weary step at length I gain.'--R. SOUTHEY.

III. TO SCOTLAND

'Scotland! when thinking on each heathy hill.'--C. LLOYD.

IV. TO CRAIG-MILLAR CASTLE IN WHICH MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS WAS CONFINED.

'This hoary labyrinth, the wreck of Time.'--C. LLOYD.

V. TO THE RIVER OTTER

'Dear native Brook! wild Streamlet of the West.'--S. T. COLERIDGE.

VI. 'O Harmony! thou tenderest Nurse of Pain.'--W. L. BOWLES.

VII. TO EVENING

'What numerous tribes beneath thy shadowy wing.'--BAMFIELD.

VIII. ON BATHING

'When late the trees were stript by winter pale'.--T. WARTON.

IX. 'When eddying Leaves begun in whirls to fly.'--HENRY BROOKS, (_the Author of the Fool of Quality_.)

X. 'We were two pretty Babes, the younger she'.--CHARLES LAMB.

[_Note_]. Innocence which while we possess it is playful as a babe, becomes AWFUL, when it departs from us. That is the sentiment of the line, a fine sentiment, and nobly expressed.--THE EDITOR.

XI. 'I knew a gentle maid I ne'er shall view.'--W. SOTHEBY.

XII. 'Was it some sweet device of faery land.'--CHARLES LAMB.

XIII. 'When last I rov'd these winding wood-walks green.'--CHARLES LAMB.

XIV. ON A DISCOVERY MADE TOO LATE.

'Thou bleedest, my poor HEART! and thy distress.'--S. T. COLERIDGE.

XV. 'Hard by the road, where on that little mound.'--ROBERT SOUTHEY.

XVI. THE NEGRO SLAVE

'Oh he is worn with toil! the big drops run.'--ROBERT SOUTHEY.

XVII. 'Sweet Mercy! how my very heart has bled.'--S. T. COLERIDGE.

XVIII. 'Could then the babes from yon unshelter'd cot.'--THOMAS RUSSEL.

XIX. 'Mild arch of promise on the evening sky.'--ROBERT SOUTHEY.

XX. 'Oh! She was almost speechless nor could hold.'--CHARLES LLOYD.

XXI. 'When from my dreary Home I first mov'd on'--CHARLES LLOYD.

XXII. 'In this tumultuous sphere for thee unfit.'--CHARLOTTE SMITH.

XXIII. 'I love the mournful sober-suited NIGHT.'--CHARLOTTE SMITH.

XXIV. 'Lonely I sit upon the silent shore.'--THOMAS DERMODY.

XXV. 'Oh! I could laugh to hear the midnight wind.'--CHARLES LAMB.

XXVI. 'Thou whose stern spirit loves the awful storm.'--W. L. BOWLES.

XXVII. 'INGRATITUDE, how deadly is thy smart.'--ANNA SEWARD.

XXVIII. TO THE AUTHOR OF THE "ROBBERS"

'That fearful voice, a famish'd Father's cry.'--S. T. COLERIDGE.

[At the foot of l. 14. S. T. C. writes--

'I affirm, John Thelwall! that the six last lines of this Sonnet to Schiller are strong and fiery; and you are the only one who thinks otherwise.--There's! a _spurt_ of Author-like Vanity for you!']

ODE / ON THE / DEPARTING YEAR. / BY S. T. COLERIDGE. / +Iou, iou, ô ô kaka, Yp' au me deinos orthomanteias ponos+ / +Strobei, tarassôn phroimiois ephêmiois+, / . . . . . / +to mellon êxei; kai sy mên tachei parôn / +Agan g' alêthomantin m' ereis+. / ÆSCHYL. AGAMEM. 1225. / BRISTOL; Printed by N. Biggs, / and sold by J. Parsons, Paternoster Row, London. / 1796. / [4{o}.

_Collation._--Title, one leaf, p. [1]; Dedication, To Thomas Poole of Stowey, pp. [3]-4; Text, pp. [5]-15; LINES Addressed to a Young Man of Fortune who abandoned himself to an indolent and causeless Melancholy (signed) [=S. T. Coleridge=], p. 16. [Signatures--B (p. 5)--D (p. 13).]

POEMS, / By / S. T. COLERIDGE, / Second Edition. / To which are now added / POEMS / _By_ CHARLES LAMB, / And / CHARLES LLOYD. / Duplex nobis vinculum, et amicitiae et similium / junctarumque Camoenarum; quod utinam neque mors / solvat, neque temporis longinquitas! / _Groscoll. Epist. ad Car. Utenhov. et Ptol. Lux. Tast._ / Printed by N. Biggs, / For J. Cottle, BRISTOL, and Messrs. / Robinsons, London. / 1797. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Title-page, one leaf, p. [i]; Half-title, one leaf, [=Poems=] / by / [=S. T. Coleridge=] / [followed by Motto as in No. II], pp. [iii]-[iv]; Contents, pp. [v]-vi; DEDICATION, _To the Reverend_ GEORGE COLERIDGE of OTTERY St. MARY, / DEVON. Notus in frates animi paterni. _Hor. Carm. Lib._ II. 2. /, pp. [vii]-xii; Preface to the First Edition, pp. [xiii]-xvi; Preface to the Second Edition, pp. [xvii]-xx; Half-title, [=Ode=] / _on the_ / [=Departing Year=] [with motto (5 lines) from Aeschy. Agamem. 1225], one leaf, pp. [1]-[2]; Argument, pp. [3]-[4]; Text, pp. [5]-278; Errata (four lines) at the foot of p. 278.

[Carolus Utenhovius (Utenhove, or Uyttenhove) and Ptolomoeus Luxius Tasteus were scholar friends of the Scottish poet and historian George Buchanan (1506-1582), who prefixes some Iambics 'Carolo Utenhovio F. S.' to his Hexameters 'Franciscanus et Fratres'. In some Elegiacs addressed to Tasteus and Tevius, in which he complains of his sufferings from gout and kindred maladies, he tells them that Groscollius (Professor of Medicine at the University of Paris) was doctoring him with herbs and by suggestion:--'Et spe languentem consilioque juvat'. Hence the three names. In another set of Iambics entitled 'Mutuus Amor' in which he celebrates the alliance between Scotland and England he writes:--

Non mortis hoc propinquitas Non temporis longinquitas Solvet, fides quod nexuit Intaminata vinculum.

Hence the wording of the motto. Groscollius is, of course, a _mot à double entente_. It is a name and a nickname. The interpretation of the names and the reference to Buchanan's Hexameters were first pointed out by Mr. T. Hutchinson in the _Athenaeum_, Dec. 10, 1898.]

CONTENTS

[Titles of poems not in 1796 are printed in italics.]

POEMS by S. T. COLERIDGE.

PAGE _Dedication_ vii Preface to the First Edition xiii Preface to the Second Edition xvii _Ode to the New Year_ 1 Monody on Chatterton 17 Songs of the Pixies 29 The Rose 41 The Kiss 43 To a young Ass 45 Domestic Peace 48 The Sigh 49 Epitaph on an Infant 51 Lines on the Man of Ross 52 ---- to a beautiful Spring 54 ---- on the Death of a Friend 57 To a Young Lady 61 To a Friend, with an unfinished Poem 65

SONNETS.

[_Introduction to the Sonnets_ 71-74] To W. L. Bowles 75 On a Discovery made too late 76 On Hope 77 _To the River Otter_ 78 On Brockly Comb 79 To an old Man 81 Sonnet 82 To Schiller 83 _On the Birth of a Son_ 85 _On first seeing my Infant_ 87 Ode to Sara 88 Composed at Clevedon 96 _On leaving a Place of Residence_ 100 _On an unfortunate Woman_ 105 _On observing a Blossom_ 107 _The Hour when we shall meet again_ 109 _Lines to C. Lloyd_ 110 Religious Musings 117

[=Poems=] by CHARLES LLOYD. pp. [151]-189. Second Edition. [=Poems=] _on The Death_ of PRISCILLA FARMER, By her GRANDSON CHARLES LLOYD, pp. [191]-213. Sonnet ['The piteous sobs that choak the Virgin's breath', signed S. T. Coleridge], p. 193. [=Poems=] by CHARLES LAMB _of the India-House_. pp. [215]-240.

SUPPLEMENT.

_Advertisement_ 243 Lines to Joseph Cottle, by S. T. Coleridge 246 On an Autumnal Evening, by ditto, 249 In the manner of Spencer (_sic_), by ditto, 256 The Composition of a Kiss, by ditto, 260 To an Infant, by Ditto 264 _On the Christening of a Friend's Child_, by ditto, 264 To the Genius of Shakespeare, by Charles Lloyd, 267 Written after a Journey into North Wales, by ditto, 270 A Vision of Repentance, by Charles Lamb, 273

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION

[Pp. [xiii]-xvi.]

Compositions resembling those of the present volume are not unfre/quently condemned for their querulous Egotism. But Egotism is to be / condemned then only when it offends against Time and Place, as in an / History or an Epic Poem. To censure it in a Monody or Sonnet is almost / as absurd as to dislike a circle for being round. Why then write Sonnets / or Monodies? Because they give me pleasure when perhaps nothing else / could. After the more violent emotions of Sorrow, the mind demands / amusement, and can find it in employment alone; but full of its late / sufferings, it can endure no employment not in some measure connected / with them. Forcibly to turn away our attention to general subjects is / a painful and most often an unavailing effort:

But O! how grateful to a wounded heart The tale of Misery to impart-- From others' eyes bid artless sorrows flow, And raise esteem upon the base of woe! 15 SHAW.

The communicativeness of our Nature leads us to describe our own / sorrows; in the endeavour to describe them, intellectual activity is exerted; / and from intellectual activity there results a pleasure, which is gradually / associated, and mingles as a corrective, with the painful subject of the / description. "True!" (it may be answered) "but how are the PUBLIC / interested in your Sorrows or your Description?" We are for ever / attributing personal Unities to imaginary Aggregates.--What is the PUBLIC, / but a term for a number of scattered Individuals? Of whom as many / will be interested in these sorrows, as have experienced the same or / similar.

"Holy be the lay, Which mourning soothes the mourner on his way."

If I could judge of others by myself, I should not hesitate to affirm, that / the most interesting passages in our most interesting Poems are those, in / which the Author developes his own feelings. The sweet voice of Cona[1144:1] / never sounds so sweetly as when it speaks of itself; and I should almost / suspect that man of an unkindly heart, who could read the opening of the / third book of the Paradise Lost without peculiar emotion. By a law of / our Nature, he, who labours under a strong feeling, is impelled to seek for / sympathy; but a Poet's feelings are all strong. Quicquid amet valde amat. / Akenside therefore speaks with philosophical accuracy, when he classes / Love and Poetry, as producing the same effects:

"Love and the wish of Poets when their tongue Would teach to others' bosoms, what so charms 40 Their own."--PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION.

There is one species of Egotism which is truly disgusting; not that / which leads us to communicate our feelings to others, but that which / would reduce the feelings of others to an identity with our own. The / Atheist, who exclaims, "pshaw!" when he glances his eye on the praises / of Deity, is an Egotist: an old man, when he speaks contemptuously of / Love-verses is an Egotist: and the sleek Favorites of Fortune are / Egotists, when they condemn all "melancholy, discontented" verses. / Surely, it would be candid not merely to ask whether the poem pleases / ourselves but to consider whether or no there may not be others to whom / it is well-calculated to give an innocent pleasure.

I shall only add that each of my readers will, I hope, remember that / these Poems on various subjects, which he reads at one time and under / the influence of one set of feelings, were written at different times and / prompted by very different feelings; and therefore that the supposed / inferiority of one Poem to another may sometimes be owing to the temper / of mind, in which he happens to peruse it.

[Pp. [xvii]-xx.]

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION

I return my acknowledgments to the different Reviewers for the / assistance, which they have afforded me, in detecting my poetic deficien/cies. I have endeavoured to avail myself of their remarks: one third of / the former Volume I have omitted, and the imperfections of the republished / part must be considered as errors of taste, not faults of carelessness. My / poems have been rightly charged with a profusion of double-epithets, and / a general turgidness. I have pruned the double-epithets with no sparing / hand; and used my best efforts to tame the swell and glitter both of / thought and diction. This latter fault however had insinuated itself / into my Religious Musings with such intricacy of union, that sometimes / I have omitted to disentangle the weed from the fear of snapping the / flower. A third and heavier accusation has been brought against me, that / of obscurity; but not, I think, with equal justice. An Author is obscure / when his conceptions are dim and imperfect, and his language incorrect, / or unappropriate, or involved. A poem that abounds in allusions, / like the Bard of Gray, or one that impersonates high and abstract / truths, like Collins's Ode on the poetical character, claims not to be / popular--but should be acquitted of obscurity. The deficiency is in the / Reader. But this is a charge which every poet, whose imagination is / warm and rapid, must expect from his _contemporaries_. Milton did not / escape it; and it was adduced with virulence against Gray and Collins. / We now hear no more of it; not that their poems are better understood / at present, than they were at their first publication; but their fame is / established; and a critic would accuse himself of frigidity or inattention, / who should profess not to understand them. But a living writer is yet / sub judice; and if we cannot follow his conceptions or enter into his / feelings, it is more consoling to our pride to consider him as lost beneath, / than as soaring above, us. If any man expect from my poems the same / easiness of style which he admires in a drinking-song, for him I have not / written. Intelligibilia, non intellectum adfero.

I expect neither profit nor general fame by my writings; and I consider / myself as having been amply repayed without either. Poetry has been to / me its own[1146:1] "exceeding great reward": it has soothed my afflictions: it / has multiplied and refined my enjoyments; it has endeared solitude; / and it has given me the habit of wishing to discover the Good and the / Beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me.

There were inserted in my former Edition, a few Sonnets of my Friend / and old School-fellow, CHARLES LAMB. He has now communicated to me / a complete Collection of all his Poems; quae qui non prorsus amet, illum / omnes et Virtutes et Veneres odere. My friend CHARLES LLOYD has / likewise joined me; and has contributed every poem of his, which he / deemed worthy of preservation. With respect to my own share of the / Volume, I have omitted a third of the former Edition, and added almost / an equal number. The Poems thus added are marked in the Contents by / Italics. S. T. C. STOWEY, _May_, 1797.

MS. Notes attached to proof sheets of the second Edition.

(_a_) As neither of us three were present to correct the Press, and as my handwriting is not eminently distinguished for neatness or legibility, the Printer has made a few mistakes. The Reader will consult equally his own convenience, and our credit if before he peruses the volume he will scan the Table of Errata and make the desired alterations. S. T. Coleridge. Stowey, May 1797.

(_b_) Table of Contents. (N.B. of my Poems)--and let it be printed in the same manner as Southey's Table of Contents--take care to mark _the new poems_ of the Edition by Italics.

_Dedication._

Preface to the first Edition. _Refer to the_ Second Edition. _Ode on the departing Year._ Monody on the death of Chatterton, etc., etc.--

[_MS. R._]

P. [69].

[Half-title] [=Sonnets=], / _Attempted in the Manner_ / Of The / Rev. W. L. Bowles. / Non ita certandi cupidus, quam propter amorem / Quod te IMITARI aveo. / LUCRET.

[Pp. 71-74.]

INTRODUCTION TO THE SONNETS

For lines 1-63 vide _ante_, No. III, The Introduction to the 'Sheet of Sonnets'. Lines 64 to the end are omitted, and the last paragraph runs thus:

The Sonnet has been ever a favourite species of composition with me; but I am conscious that I have not succeeded in it. From a large number I have retained ten only, as seemed not beneath mediocrity. Whatever more is said of them, ponamus lucro. S. T. COLERIDGE.

[_Note._ In a copy of the Edition of 1797, now in the Rowfant Library, S. T. C. comments in a marginal note on the words 'I have never yet been able to discover sense, nature, or poetic fancy in Petrarch's poems,' &c.--'A piece of petulant presumption, of which I should be more ashamed if I did not flatter myself that it stands alone in my writings. The best of the joke is that at the time I wrote it, I did not understand a word of Italian, and could therefore judge of this divine Poet only by bald translations of some half-dozen of his Sonnets.']

[Pp. 243-245.]

I have excepted the following Poems from those, which I had determined to omit. Some intelligent friends particularly requested it, observing, that what most delighted me when I was "young in _writing_ poetry, would probably best please those who are young in _reading_ poetry: and a man must learn to be _pleased_ with a subject, before he can yield that attention to it, which is requisite in order to acquire a just taste." I however was fully convinced, that he, who gives to the press what he does not thoroughly approve in his own closet, commits an act of disrespect, both against himself and his fellow-citizens. The request and the reasoning would not, therefore, have influenced me, had they not been assisted by other motives. The first in order of these verses, which I have thus endeavoured to _reprieve_ from immediate oblivion, was originally addressed "To the Author of Poems published anonymously, at Bristol." A second edition of these poems has lately appeared with the Author's name prefixed; and I could not refuse myself the gratification of seeing the name of that man among my poems, without whose kindness they would probably have remained unpublished; and to whom I know myself greatly and variously obliged, as a Poet, a Man and a Christian.

The second is entitled "An Effusion on an Autumnal Evening; written in early youth." In a note to this poem I had asserted that the tale of Florio in Mr. Rogers' "Pleasures of Memory" was to be found in the Lochleven of Bruce. I did (and still do) perceive a certain likeness between the two stories; but certainly not a sufficient one to justify my assertion. I feel it my duty, therefore, to apologize to the Author and the Public, for this rashness; and my sense of honesty would not have been satisfied by the bare omission of the note. No one can see more clearly the _littleness_ and futility of imagining plagiarisms in the works of men of Genius; but _nemo omnibus horis sapit_; and my mind, at the time of writing that note, was sick and sore with anxiety, and weakened through much suffering. I have not the most distant knowledge of Mr. Rogers, except as a correct and elegant Poet. If any of my readers should know him personally, they would oblige me by informing him that I have expiated a sentence of unfounded detraction, by an unsolicited and self-originating apology.

Having from these motives re-admitted two, and those the longest of the poems I had omitted, I yielded a passport to the three others, [pp. 256, 262, 264] which were recommended by the greatest number of votes. There are some lines too of Lloyd's and Lamb's in this Appendix. They had been omitted in the former part of the volume, partly by accident; but I have reason to believe that the Authors regard them, as of inferior merit; and they are therefore rightly placed, where they will receive some beauty from their vicinity to others much worse.

FEARS IN SOLITUDE, / Written in 1798, during the Alarm of an Invasion. / To which are added, / France, an Ode; / And / Frost at Midnight. / By S. T. COLERIDGE. / London: / Printed for J. Johnson, in St. Paul's Churchyard. / 1798. / [4{o}.

_Collation._--Half-title, Fears in Solitude, . . . Frost at Midnight, (six lines) [Price ONE SHILLING and SIXPENCE.], one leaf, unpaged; Title, one leaf, unpaged; Text, pp. [1]-23; Advertisement of 'Poems, by W. Cowper', p. [24].

VII

The / PICCOLOMINI, / or the / First Part of WALLENSTEIN, / A Drama / In Five Acts. / Translated From The German Of / Frederick Schiller / By / S. T. COLERIDGE. / LONDON: / Printed for T. N. Longman and O. Rees, Paternoster Row. / 1800. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Half-title, Translation from a Manuscript Copy attested by the Author / THE PICCOLOMINI, or the First Part of WALLENSTEIN. / Printed by G. Woodfall, Pater-noster Row /, one leaf, unpaged; Title, one leaf, unpaged; Preface of the Translator, pp. [i]-ii; two pages of Advertisements commencing with: Plays just published, etc.; one leaf unpaged; on the reverse Dramatis Personae; Text, pp. [1]-214; _In the Press, and speedily will be published_, From the German of Schiller, THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN; Also WALLENSTEIN'S CAMP, a Prelude of One Act to the former Dramas; with an Essay on the GENIUS OF SCHILLER. By S. T. COLERIDGE. N.B. The Drama will be embellished with an elegant Portrait of WALLENSTEIN, engraved by CHAPMAN, pp. [215]-[216].

VIII

The / DEATH / of / WALLENSTEIN. A Tragedy / In Five Acts. / Translated from the German of / FREDERICK SCHILLER, / By / S. T. COLERIDGE. / LONDON: / Printed for T. N. Longman and O. Rees, Paternoster Row, / _By G. Woodfall, No. 22, Paternoster-Row_. / 1800. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Title, one leaf, unpaged; General Title, Wallenstein. / A Drama / In Two Parts. / Translated, &c., _ut supra_, one leaf, unpaged; Preface of the Translator, two leaves, unpaged; on reverse of second leaf Dramatis Personae; Text, pp. [1]-157; The Imprint, _Printed by G. Woodfall, No. 22, Paternoster-Row, London_, is at the foot of p. 157; Advertisement of 'Books printed by T. N. Longman', &c., p. [158].

[The Frontispiece (sometimes attached to No. VII) is an engraving in stipple of Wallenstein, by J. Chapman.]

[=Poems=], / By / S. T. COLERIDGE. / Felix curarum, &c. (six lines as on title of No. II). Third edition. / LONDON: / Printed by N. Biggs, Crane-Court, Fleet-street, / For T. N. Longman and O. Rees, Pater- / Noster-Row. / 1803. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Title, one leaf, p. [i]; Contents, pp. [iii]-[iv]; Preface, pp. [v]-xi; Text, pp. [1]-202; The Imprint, Biggs, Printer, Crane-Court, Fleet-street, is at the foot of p. 202.

[The Preface consists of the Preface to the First and Second Editions as reprinted in No. IV, with the following omissions from that to the Second Edition, viz. Lines 1-5, and Lines 37-45. The Preface to the First Edition (pp. [v]-viii) is signed S. T. C. The Preface to the Second Edition (pp. ix-xi) has no heading, but is marked off by a line from the Preface to the First Edition.

The Third Edition contains all the poems published in the First and Second Editions except (1) To the Rev. W. J. H. (1796); (2) Sonnet to Kosciusko (1796); (8) Written after a Walk (1796); (4) From a Young Lady (1796); (5) On the Christening of a Friend's Child (1797); (6) Introductory Sonnet to C. Lloyd's 'Poems on the Death of Priscilla Farmer' (1797). The half-title to the Sonnets, p. [79], omits the words 'Attempted in the Manner, &c. (see No. V).

The Introduction to the Sonnets is reprinted on pp. 81-4, verbatim from the Second Edition.]

POEMS, / By / S. T. COLERIDGE, Esq. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Half-title (as above), one leaf, p. [1]; The Imprint, Law and Gilbert, Printers, St. John's Square, London, is at the foot of p. [2]; Text, pp. [3]-16; The Imprint, Printed by Law and Gilbert, St. John's Square, London, is at the foot of p. 16 [n. d. ? 1812].

_Contents._--

Fears in Solitude, pp. [3]-9: France, an Ode, pp. 10-13: Frost at Midnight, pp. 14-16.

[The three poems which form the contents of the Pamphlet were included in the _Poetical Register_ for 1808-1809 which was reissued in 1812. The publishers were F. G. and S. Rivington, the printers Law and Gilbert, St. John's Square, Clerkenwell. The type of the pamphlet is the type of the _Poetical Register_, but the poems were set up and reprinted as a distinct issue. There is no record of the transaction, or evidence that the pamphlet was placed on the market. It was probably the outcome of a private arrangement between the author and the publisher of the _Poetical Register_.]

REMORSE. / A Tragedy, / In Five Acts. / _By_ S. T. COLERIDGE. / Remorse is as the heart, in which it grows: / If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews / Of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy, / It is a poison-tree, that pierced to the inmost / Weeps only tears of poison! /

## Act I. Scene I. / LONDON: / Printed for W. Pople, 67, Chancery Lane. /

1813. / _Price Three Shillings._ / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Title, one leaf, pp. [i]-[ii]; The Imprint, _W. Pople, Printer, 67, Chancery Lane_, is at the foot of the Reverse; Preface, pp. [iii]-viii; Prologue, pp. [ix]-[x]; Dramatis Personae, p. [xi]; Text, pp. [1]-72; The Imprint, W. Pople, Printer, 67, Chancery Lane, London, is at the foot of p. 72.

XII

REMORSE, &c. (as in No. XI); [=Second Edition.=] / LONDON: / Printed for W. Pople, 67, Chancery Lane. / 1813. / _Price Three Shillings._ / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Title, one leaf, pp. [i]-[ii]; The Imprint, _W. Pople, Printer, 67, Chancery Lane_, is at the foot of p. [ii]; Preface, pp. [iii]-vi; Prologue, pp. [vii]-[viii]; Dramatis Personae, p. [ix]; Text, pp. [1]-73; Appendix, pp. [75]-78; The Imprint, W. Pople, Printer, 67, Chancery Lane, London, is at the foot of p. 78.

XIII

_Remorse_, &c. (as in No. XI); [=Third Edition.=] / London: Printed for W. Pople, 67, Chancery Lane. / 1813. / [8{o}.

For collation vide _supra_, No. XII.

XIV

SIBYLLINE LEAVES: / A / [=Collection of Poems.=] / By / S. T. COLERIDGE, Esq. / LONDON: / Rest Fenner, 23, Paternoster Row. / 1817. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Half-title, one leaf, [=Sibylline Leaves.=] / By / S. T. Coleridge Esq. /, unpaged; Title, one leaf, unpaged; The Imprint, _S. Curtis, Printer, Camberwell_, is at the foot of the Reverse of the Title; Preface, pp. [i]-iii; 'Time, Real and Imaginary,' 'The Raven,' 'Mutual Passion,' pp. v-x; Errata, pp. [xi]-[xii]; Half-title, THE RIME / Of The / ANCIENT MARINER / In Seven Parts, p. [1]; Motto from T. Burnet, _Archæol. Phil._, p. 68, p. [2]; Text, pp. 3-303; The Imprint, Printed by John Evans & Co. St. John-Street, Bristol, is at the foot of p. [304].

[Signatures B-U are marked Vol. ii, i. e. Vol. ii of the _Biographia Literaria_. The printer's bills, which are in my possession, show that in the first instance the Poems were reckoned as Volume ii, and that, in 1816, when the prose work had grown into a second volume, as Volume iii. The entire text of the second volume, afterwards entitled _Sibylline Leaves_, with the exception of the preliminary matter, pp. [i]-[xii], was printed by John Evans & Co. of Bristol--signatures B-G in November-December 1814, and signatures H-U between January and July 1815. The unbound sheets, which were held as a security for the cost of printing &c., and for money advanced, by W. Hood of Bristol, John Matthew Gutch, and others, were redeemed in May 1817 by a London publisher, Rest Fenner, and his partner the Rev. Samuel Curtis of Camberwell. The _Biographia Literaria_ was published in July and _Sibylline Leaves_ in August, 1817. See note by J. D. Campbell in _P. W._, 1893, pp. 551, 552.]

PREFACE

The following collection has been entitled SIBYLLINE LEAVES, in allusion to the fragmentary and widely scattered state in which they have been long suffered to remain. It contains the whole of the author's poetical compositions, from 1793 to the present date, with the exception of a few works not yet finished, and those published in the first edition of his juvenile poems, over which he has no controul.[1150:1] They may be divided into three classes: First, A selection from the Poems added to the second and third editions, together with those originally published in the LYRICAL BALLADS,[1150:2] which after having remained many years out of print, have been omitted by Mr. Wordsworth in the recent collection of all his minor poems, and of course revert to the author. Second, Poems published at very different periods, in various obscure or perishable journals, etc., some with, some without the writer's consent; many imperfect, all incorrect. The third and last class is formed of Poems which have hitherto remained in manuscript. The whole is now presented to the reader collectively, with considerable additions and alterations, and as perfect as the author's judgment and powers could render them.

In my Literary _Life_, it has been mentioned that, with the exception of this preface, the SIBYLLINE LEAVES have been printed almost two years; and the necessity of troubling the reader with the list of errata[1151:1] [forty-seven in number] which follows this preface, alone induces me to refer again to the circumstances, at the risk of ungenial feelings, from the recollection of its worthless causes.[1151:2] A few corrections of later date have been added.--Henceforward the author must be occupied by studies of a very different kind.

Ite hinc, CAMOENÆ! Vos quoque ite, suaves, Dulces CAMOENÆ! Nam (fatebimur verum) Dulces fuistis!--Et tamen meas chartas Revisitote: sed pudenter et raro! VIRGIL, _Catalect._ vii.[1151:3]

At the request of the friends of my youth, who still remain my friends, and who were pleased with the wildness of the compositions, I have added two school-boy poems--with a song modernized with some additions from one of our elder poets.[1151:4] Surely, malice itself will scarcely attribute their insertion to any other motive, than the wish to keep alive the recollections from early life.--I scarcely knew what title I should prefix to the first. By imaginary Time,[1151:5] I meant the state of a school-boy's mind when, on his return to school, he projects his being in his day dreams, and lives in his next holidays, six months hence: and this I contrasted with real Time.

CONTENTS

[Poems first published in 1796 and in 1797 are marked with an asterisk. Poems first published in 1817 are italicized. N.B. The volume was issued without any Table of Contents or Index of First Lines.]

PAGE

_Time, Real and Imaginary: an Allegory_ v The Raven vi Mutual Passion ix The Rime of the Ancient Mariner [with the marginal glosses] 3 The Foster-Mother's Tale 41

Half-title

POEMS / OCCASIONED BY POLITICAL EVENTS / OR / FEELINGS CONNECTED WITH THEM [47] Wordsworth's sonnet beginning 'When I have borne in memory what has tamed' is printed on [48] *Ode to the Departing Year [Half-Title] [49] France: _An Ode_ 59 Fears in Solitude 64 Recantation. _Illustrated in the Story of the Mad Ox_ 75 Parliamentary Oscillators 83

Half-title

[=Fire, Famine, and Slaughter.=] / A War Eclogue. / With / An Apologetic Preface / [87] Mottoes from _Claudian_ and _Ecclesiasticus_ [88] [_AN APOLOGETIC PREFACE_] 89 Fire, Famine and Slaughter 111

Half-title

LOVE-POEMS [117] Motto (eleven lines) from 'Petrarch' [118] Love 119 Lewti, or the Circassian Love-chant 124 The Picture, or the Lover's Resolution 128 _The Night-Scene: A Dramatic Fragment_ 136 *To an Unfortunate Woman, _Whom the Author had known in the days of her Innocence_ 141 To an Unfortunate Woman at the Theatre 142 Lines composed in a Concert-room 144 The Keep-sake 146 _To a Lady, with Falconer's 'Shipwreck'_ 148 To a Young Lady, _On her Recovery from a Fever_ 150 Something Childish, but very Natural. _Written in Germany_ 152 Home-sick. _Written in Germany_ 153 Answer to a Child's Question 154 _The Visionary Hope_ 155 _The Happy Husband. A Fragment_ 157 _Recollections of Love_ 159 On Re-visiting the Sea-Shore, After Long Absence, _Under strong medical recommendation not to bathe_ 161

Half-title

'MEDITATIVE POEMS / IN / BLANK VERSE' [163] Motto (eight lines) from _Schiller_ [164] Hymn _Before Sunrise, in the Vale of Chamouny_ 165 Lines _Written in the Album at Elbingerode, in the Hartz Forest_ 170 *On observing a Blossom _On the 1st February, 1796_ 173 *The Eolian Harp, _Composed at Clevedon, Somersetshire_ 175 *Reflections _On having left a Place of Retirement_ 178 *To the Rev. George Coleridge, _Of Ottery St. Mary, Devon_. With some Poems 182 Inscription _For a Fountain on a Heath_ 186 A Tombless Epitaph 187 This Lime-tree Bower my Prison 189 To a Friend _Who had declared his intention of writing no more Poetry_ 194 _TO A GENTLEMAN. Composed on the night after his recitation of a Poem on the Growth of an Individual Mind_ 197 The Nightingale; a Conversation Poem 204 Frost at Midnight 210

Half-title

[=The=] / [=Three Graves=] / [215] The Three Graves. A Fragment of a Sexton's Tale 217

Half-title

ODES / AND / MISCELLANEOUS POEMS [235] Dejection: _An Ode_ 237 Ode to Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, _On the 24th stanza in her 'Passage over Mount Gothard'_ 244 Ode to Tranquillity 249 *To a Young Friend, _On his proposing to Domesticate with the Author_ Composed in 1796 251 Lines _To W. L., Esq., while he sang a song to Purcell's Music_ 255 Addressed to a Young Man of Fortune _Who abandoned himself to an indolent and causeless Melancholy_ 256 *Sonnet to the River Otter 257 *Sonnet. _Composed on a journey homeward; the Author having received intelligence of the birth of a Son, September 20, 1796_ 258 *Sonnet, _To a Friend who asked, how I felt when the Nurse first presented my Infant to me_ 259 The Virgin's Cradle-Hymn. Copied from a Print of the Virgin, in a Catholic village in Germany 260 Epitaph, on an Infant. ['Its balmy lips the Infant blest.'] 261 Melancholy. A Fragment 262 _Tell's Birth-place. Imitated from Stolberg_ 263 A Christmas Carol 265 _Human Life. On the Denial of Immortality. A Fragment_ 268 An Ode to the Rain. _Composed before daylight_ [etc.] 270 _The Visit of the Gods. Imitated from Schiller_ 274 America to Great Britain. _Written in America, in the year 1810._ [By Washington Allston, the Painter.] 276 Elegy, Imitated from one of Akenside's Blank-verse Inscriptions 279 The Destiny of Nations. A Vision 281

#Kinat Yeshurun#

A Hebrew Dirge, / Chaunted in the Great Synagogue, / St. James's Place, Aldgate, / On the / Day of the Funeral of her Royal Highness / The / Princess Charlotte. / By Hyman Hurwitz, / Master of the Royal Academy, / Highgate: / With a Translation in / English Verse, By S. T. Coleridge, Esq. / London: / _Printed by H. Barnett_, 2, _St. James's Place, Aldgate_; / And Sold by T. Boosey, 4, Old Broad Street; / Lackington, Allen, and Co. Finsbury Square; / Briggs and Burton, 156, Leadenhall Street; and / H. Barnett, Hebrew Bookseller, 2, St. James's / Place, Aldgate. / 1817. [8{o}.

_Collation._--Half-title, #Kinat Yeshurun# / A Hebrew Dirge. /, pp. [1]-[2]; Title, p. [3]; Text, pp. [4]-13. The text of the translation is printed on pp. 5, 7, 9, 11, and 13.

XVI

CHRISTABEL: / Kubla Khan, / A Vision; / The Pains of Sleep. / By / S. T. COLERIDGE, Esq. / LONDON: Printed For John Murray, Albemarle-Street, / By William Bulmer and Co. Cleveland-Row, / St. James's. / 1816. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Half-title, one leaf, [=Christabel=], &c., pp. i-ii; Title, one leaf, pp. iii-iv; Preface, pp. [v]-vii; Second half-title, Christabel. / Part 1, pp. [1]-[2]; Text, pp. [3]-48; '[=Kubla Khan=] / or / A Vision in a Dream': Half-title, one leaf, pp. [49]-[50]; 'Of the / Fragment of Kubla Khan', pp. [51]-54; Text, pp. [55]-58; '[=The Pains of Sleep=]': Half-title, pp. [59]-[60]; Text, pp. 61-61; The Imprint, LONDON: Printed by W. Bulmer and Co. / Cleveland-row, St. James's /, is at the foot of p. 64.

[The pamphlet (1816) was issued 'price 4_s._ 6_d._ _sewed_'. The cover was of brown paper.]

XVII

CHRISTABEL, &c. / By S. T. Coleridge, Esq. / Second Edition. / LONDON: / Printed For John Murray, Albemarle-Street, / By William Bulmer and Co. Cleveland-Row, / St. James's. / 1816. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--_Vide_ No. XVI.

[The half-title, CHRISTABEL, is in Gothic Character.]

XVIII

CHRISTABEL, &c. / By / S. T. Coleridge, Esq. / Third Edition. / LONDON: / Printed For John Murray, Albemarle-Street, / By William Bulmer and Co. Cleveland-Row, / St. James's. / 1816. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--_Vide_ No. XVI.

[The half-title, CHRISTABEL, is in Gothic Character.]

XIX

ZAPOLYA: A / Christmas tale, / In Two Parts: / [=The Prelude=] / Entitled / "THE USURPERS' FORTUNE;" And / [=The Sequel=] / Entitled / "THE USURPER'S FATE." / By / S. T. Coleridge, Esq. / _LONDON_: Printed for Rest Fenner, Paternoster Row. / 1817. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Half-title, ZAPOLYA, one leaf; Title, one leaf; Advertisement, one leaf; Characters, one leaf; Four leaves unpaged; Text, Prelude, pp. [1]-31; Additional Characters, p. [34]; ZAPOLYA (headed, [=Usurpation Ended=]; / or / SHE COMES AGAIN. /), pp. [85]-128. The imprint, S. Curtis, Camberwell Press, is at the foot of p. 128. Eight pages of advertisements dated September, 1817, are bound up with the volume as issued in a brown paper cover.

The / Poetical Works / Of / S. T. Coleridge, / Including the Dramas of / Wallenstein, Remorse, and Zapolya. / In three Volumes. / Vol. I. / [Vol. II, &c.] London: / William Pickering. / MDCCCXXVIII. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Vol. I. Half-title, one leaf, The / Poetical Works / of / S. T. Coleridge. / Vol. I. /, p. [i]; Title, one leaf, p. [iii]; The Imprint, Thomas White, Printer, / Johnson's Court. /, is at the foot of p. [iv]; Contents, Volume I, Volume II, Volume III, pp. [v]-x; Preface, To the First and Second Editions, pp. [1]-6; Half-title, one leaf, Juvenile Poems, p. [7]; Text, pp. [9]-363; The Imprint, Thomas White, Printer, / Crane Court. /, below the figure of a girl watering flowers surmounted by the motto TE FAVENTE VIREBO, is in the centre of p. [554]. [A vignette and double wreath of oak and bay leaves is in the centre of the title-page of Vols. I, II, III.]

Vol. II. Half-title, one leaf; Title, one leaf, with Imprint at the foot of the Reverse, unpaged; Half-title, The Rime / Of / The Ancient Mariner. / In Seven Parts. /, p. [1]; Motto from T. Burnet, in centre of p. [2]; Text, pp. [3]-370; The Imprint, Thomas White, Printer, / Johnson's Court. /, is at the foot of p. 370.

Vol. III. Half-title, one leaf; Title, one leaf; The Imprint, Thomas White, Printer, / Johnson's Court. /, is at the foot of the Reverse, unpaged; Half-title, The / Piccolomini, / Or / The First Part of Wallenstein. / A Drama. / Translated from the German of Schiller /, p. [1]; Preface of the Translator, p. [3]; Text, pp. [5]-428; The Imprint Thomas White, Printer / Johnson's Court. /, is at the foot of p. 428.

[Pp. [1]-6]

PREFACE

[The Preface is the same as that of 1803.]

CONTENTS

VOLUME I

PAGE JUVENILE POEMS

Genevieve [9] Sonnet to the Autumnal Moon 10 Time, Real and Imaginary. An Allegory 11 Monody on the Death of Chatterton 12 Songs of the Pixies 19 The Raven 25 Absence. A Farewell Ode 28 Lines on an Autumnal Evening 30 The Rose 35 The Kiss 37 To a Young Ass 39 Domestic Peace 41 The Sigh 42 Epitaph on an Infant ['Ere Sin could blight'] 43 Lines written at the King's-Arms, Ross 44 Lines to a beautiful Spring in a Village 46 On a Friend who died of a Frenzy-fever induced by calumnious reports 48 To a Young Lady with a Poem on the French Revolution 51 Sonnet I. My heart has thanked thee, Bowles 54 " II. As late I lay in Slumber's Shadowy Vale 55 " III. Though roused by that dark Vizir Riot rude 56 " IV. When British Freedom for an happier land 57 " V. It was some Spirit, Sheridan! 58 " VI. O what a loud and fearful Shriek 59 " VII. As when far off 60 " VIII. Thou gentle Look 61 " IX. Pale Roamer through the Night 62 " X. Sweet Mercy! 63 " XI. Thou bleedest, my Poor Heart 64 " XII. To the Author of The Robbers 65 Lines, composed while climbing Brockley Coomb 66 Lines in the Manner of Spenser 67 Imitated from Ossian 70 The Complaint of Ninathoma 72 Imitated from the Welsh 73 To an Infant 74 Lines in answer to a Letter from Bristol 76 To a Friend in Answer to a melancholy Letter 82 Religious Musings 84 The Destiny of Nations. A Vision 104

SIBYLLINE LEAVES

Half-title

I. POEMS OCCASIONED BY POLITICAL EVENTS OR / FEELINGS CONNECTED WITH THEM [127] Motto--fourteen lines--'When I have borne in memory what has tamed', Wordsworth [128] Ode to the Departing Year 131 France, an Ode 139 Fears in Solitude 144 Fire, Famine, and Slaughter 155

Half-title

II. Love Poems [159] Motto--eleven lines of a Latin Poem by Petrarch [160] Love 161 Lewti, or the Circassian Love-chaunt 167 The Picture, or the Lover's Resolution 171 The Night Scene, a Dramatic Fragment 179 To an Unfortunate Woman 184 To an Unfortunate Woman at the Theatre 186 Lines composed in a Concert Room 188 The Keepsake 191 To a Lady, with Falconer's Shipwreck 194 To a Young Lady on her recovery from a Fever 196 Something Childish, but very Natural 198 Home-sick: written in Germany 200 Answer to a Child's Question 202 The Visionary Hope 203 The Happy Husband 205 Recollections of Love 207 On revisiting the Sea-shore 209

Half-title

III. MEDITATIVE POEMS. / IN BLANK VERSE [211] Motto--eight lines (translated) from Schiller [212] Hymn before Sun-rise, in the Vale of Chamouny 213 Lines written in an Album at Elbingerode, in the Hartz Forest 218 On Observing a Blossom on the First of February 221 The Eolian Harp 223 Reflections on having left a place of Retirement 227 To the Rev. George Coleridge 231 Inscription for a Fountain on a Heath 235 A Tombless Epitaph 237 This Lime-tree Bower my Prison 239 To a Friend who had declared his intention of writing no more Poetry 244 To a Gentleman [Wordsworth] composed on the night after his recitation of a Poem on the growth of an individual mind 247 [The Nightingale; a Conversation Poem 253] Frost at Midnight 261

Half-title [265]

THE THREE GRAVES [267]

Half-title

ODES / AND / MISCELLANEOUS POEMS [287] Dejection, An Ode 289 Ode to Georgiana Duchess of Devonshire 296 Ode to Tranquillity 300 To a Young Friend, on his proposing to domesticate with the Author 302 Lines to W. L., Esq., while he sang a song to Purcell's Music 306 Addressed to a Young Man of Fortune 307 Sonnet To the River Otter 309 ---- Composed on a journey homeward after hearing of the birth of a Son 310 ---- To a Friend 311 The Virgin's Cradle Hymn 312 Epitaph on an Infant. ['Its balmy lips the Infant blest'] 313 Melancholy, A Fragment 314 Tell's Birth-place 315 A Christmas Carol 317 Human Life 320 The Visit of the Gods 321 Elegy, imitated from Akenside 324

Half-title

Kubla Khan: / Or, / A Vision In A Dream [327] Of The Fragment Of Kubla Khan [329] Kubla Khan [332] [The Pains of Sleep 334] Apologetic Preface to "Fire, Famine, and Slaughter" 337

END OF VOL. I

VOLUME II

Half-title

The Rime / of / The Ancient Mariner. / In Seven Parts. / [1] Motto (From T. Burnet, _Archæol. Phil._, p. 68) [2] THE ANCIENT MARINER. Part I 3

## Part II 8

## Part III 12

## Part IV 17

## Part V 21

## Part VI 27

## Part VII 33

Half-title

CHRISTABEL [39] Preface [41] CHRISTABEL. Part I 43 Conclusion to Part I 56

## Part II 59

Conclusion to Part II 73

Half-title

Prose in Rhyme: Or, / Epigrams, Moralities, and Things / Without a Name [75] Mottoes:-- +Erôs aei lalêthros hetairos.+ In many ways does the full heart reveal The presence of the love it would conceal; But in far more th' estranged heart lets know, The absence of the love, which yet it fain would shew. Duty surviving Self-love [77] Song. ['Tho' veiled in spires,' &c.] 78 Phantom or Fact? A Dialogue in Verse 79 Work without Hope 81 Youth and Age 82 A Day-dream. ['My eyes make pictures,' &c.] 84 To a Lady, offended by a sportive observation 86 Reason for Love's Blindness 86 Lines suggested by the Last Words of Berengarius 87 The Devil's Thoughts 89 The Alienated Mistress 93 Constancy to an Ideal Object 94 The Suicide's Argument 96 The Blossoming of the Solitary Date-tree 97 Fancy in Nubibus 102 The Two Founts 103 Prefatory Note to the Wanderings of Cain 105 The Wanderings of Cain 109

Half-title

Remorse. / A Tragedy. / In Five Acts. / [119] Remorse. A TRAGEDY 121 Appendix [232]

Half-title

Zapolya: / A Christmas Tale. / In Two Parts. [237]

+Par pyri chrê toiauta legein cheimônos en hôra+ _Apud Athenæum._

Advertisement [238]

## Part I. The Prelude / Entitled / "The Usurper's Fortune." / [241]

## Part II. The Sequel / Entitled / "The Usurper's Fate" 274

VOLUME III

The Piccolomini, / Or / The First Part of Wallenstein. / A Drama. / Translated from the German of Schiller / 1 The / Death of Wallenstein. / A Tragedy, / In Five Acts 249

XXI

THE / POETICAL WORKS / Of / S. T. COLERIDGE, / Including the Dramas of / Wallenstein, Remorse, and Zapolya. / In Three Volumes. / Vol. I, Vol. II, &c. / LONDON: William Pickering. / MDCCCXXIX. [8{o}.

_Collation._--Vol. I. Title, one leaf, p. [iii]; The Imprint, Thomas White, Printer, / Johnson's Court. /, is at the foot of p. [iv]; Contents, pp. [v]-x; Preface, pp. [1]-7; Half-title, JUVENILE POEMS, p. [9]; Text, pp. [11]-353; The Imprint, Thomas White, &c., below a figure of a girl as in No. XX, is in the centre of p. 354.

[The Half-title and Mottoes are the same as in Vol. I of 1828, No. XX.]

Vol. II. Title, one leaf; The Imprint, Thomas White, Printer, / Johnson's Court. /, is at the foot of the Reverse, unpaged; Half-title, The Rime / of / THE ANCIENT MARINER. / In Seven Parts. /, p. [1]; Motto from T. Burnet, _Archæol. Phil._, p. 68, p. [2]; Text, pp. [3]-394; The Imprint, Thomas White, &c., is at the foot of p. 394.

[The Half-titles and Mottoes are the same as in Vol. II of 1828, No. XX.]

Vol. III. For Collation see Vol. III of 1828, No. XX.

[The Title-page of this edition (Vols. I, II, III) is ornamented with the Aldine Device, and the Motto, Aldi / Discip. / Anglvs./]

PREFACE

The Preface is the same as that of 1808 and 1828, with the addition of the following passage (quoted as a foot-note to the sentence:--'I have pruned the double-epithets with no sparing hand; and used my best efforts to tame the swell and glitter both of thought and diction.')--'Without any feeling of anger, I may yet be allowed to express some degree of surprize, that after having run the critical gauntlet for a certain class of faults, which I had, viz. a too ornate, and elaborately poetic diction, and nothing having come before the judgement-seat of the Reviewers during the long interval, I should for at least seventeen years, quarter after quarter, have been placed by them in the foremost rank of the _proscribed_, and made to abide the brunt of abuse and ridicule for faults directly opposite, viz. bald and prosaic language, and an affected simplicity both of matter and manner--faults which assuredly did not enter into the character of my compositions.--LITERARY LIFE, i. 51. Published 1817.' In the _Biog. Lit._ (loc. cit.) the last seven lines of the quotation read as follows--'judgement-seat in the interim, I should, year after year, quarter after quarter, month after month (not to mention sundry petty periodicals of still quicker revolution, 'or weekly or diurnal') have been for at least seventeen years consecutively dragged forth by these into the foremost rank of the _proscribed_, and forced to abide the brunt of abuse, for faults directly opposite, and which I certainly had not. How shall I explain this?'

_Contents._--The Contents of Vols. I and III are identical with the Contents of Vols. I and III of 1828 (No. XX): A 'Song' (Tho' veiled in spires of myrtle wreath), p. 78, and 'The Alienated Mistress: A Madrigal' (If Love be dead, &c.), p. 93 of Vol. II, 1828, are omitted in Vol. II of 1829; and 'The Allegoric Vision,' 'The Improvisatore, or John Anderson, My Jo, John' [New Thoughts on old Subjects], and 'The Garden of Boccaccio' are inserted in Vol. II of 1829; between 'The Wanderings of Cain' and 'Remorse', pp. 116-42. The text of 1829, which J. D. Campbell followed in _P. W._, 1893, differs from that of 1828.

XXII

The / Poetical Works / Of / Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats. / Complete in One Volume. / Paris / Published by A. and W. Galignani / No. 18, Rue Vivienne / 1829. / [8{o}.

_Collation._--General half-title, one leaf; The imprint, Printed by Jules Didot Senior, / Printer to His Majesty, Rue du Pont-de-Lodi, No. 6, is on the reverse of the half-title; Title, one leaf, unpaged; Notice of the Publishers, one leaf, unpaged; half-title, The / Poetical Works / of / Samuel Taylor Coleridge. / pp. [i-ii]; Contents, pp. [iii]-iv; Memoir of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, pp. [v]-xi; Text, pp. [1]-225.

[_Note._--A lithographed vignette of a Harp, &c., is in the centre of the title-page. The frontispiece consists of three portraits of Coleridge (Northcote), Shelley, and Keats, engraved by J. T. Wedgwood.

The contents are identical with those of 1829, with the following additions: (1) 'Recantation--illustrated in the story of the Mad Ox'; (2) 'The Introduction to the Tale of the Dark Ladie' (as published in the _Morning Post_, Dec. 21, 1799); (3) 'The Composition of a Kiss'; (4) 'To a Friend together with an unpublished Poem'; (5) 'The Hour when we shall meet again'; (6) 'Lines to Joseph Cottle'; (7) 'On the Christening of a Friend's Child'; (8) 'The Fall of Robespierre'; (9) 'What is Life?'; (10) 'The Exchange'; (11) Seven Epigrams, viz. (1) 'Names'; (2) Job's Luck'; (3) 'Hoarse Maevius', &c.; (4) 'There comes from old Avaro's', &c.; (5) 'Last Monday', &c.; (6) 'Your Poem ', &c. (7) 'Swans sing', &c. ('Job's Luck' had been republished in _The Crypt_, 1827, and the other six in _The Keepsake_, 1829.) 'Fancy in Nubibus, or the Poet in the Clouds' (vide _ante_, p. 435), p. 216, was repeated on p. 217, under the title 'Sonnet, composed by the Seaside, October 1817', with two variants, 'yield' for 'let' in line 4, and 'To' for 'Own' in line 5. 'Love's Burial-Place', and Song, 'Tho' veiled', &c., which had appeared in 1828, were not included in _Galignani_, 1829.]

XXIII

The Devil's Walk; / A Poem. / By / Professor Porson. / Edited with a Biographical Memoir and Notes, By / H. W. Montagu, / Author of Montmorency, Poems, etc. etc. etc. / Illustrated with Beautiful Engravings on wood by Bonner and / Sladen, After the Designs of R. Cruikshank. / +Gnôthi seauton+ / London: / Marsh and Miller, Oxford Street. / And Constable and Co. Edinburgh. [1830.] [12{o}.

_Collation._--Title, one leaf, p. [iii]; The Imprint, London: / Printed by Samuel Bentley, / Dorset-Street, Fleet-Street, is in the centre of p. [iv]; Preface, pp. [v]-viii; Text, pp. [9]-32; 'Variations', p. 33; Advertisement of New Works Published by Marsh and Miller, p. [34]-[36].

[_Note._--The motto +Gnôthi k.t.l+ may have suggested Coleridge's lines entitled 'Self-knowledge' (_ante_, p. 487). The Pamphlet is enclosed in a paper cover, The Devil's Walk; / By / Professor Porson. / With Illustrations by R. Cruikshank. / London: / Marsh and Miller. / 1830. / _Price One Shilling._ / The Illustrations consist of a Frontispiece and five others to face pp. 10, 14, 19, 24, and 31.]

XXIV

The Devil's Walk; / a Poem. / By / S. T. Coleridge, Esq. / And / Robert Southey, Esq. L.L. D. etc. / Edited with a Biographical Memoir, &c. (five lines as in No. XXIII). +Gnôthi seauton+ / Second Edition. / London: Alfred Miller, 137, Oxford Street; / And Constable, Edinburgh; / Griffin, Glasgow; and Milliken, Dublin. / [1830]. [12{o}.

_Collation._--Title, one leaf, p. [iii]; The Imprint, as in No. XXIII, is in the centre of p. [iv]; Advertisement, pp. [v]-vi; Preface, pp. [vii]-x; Text, pp. 11-32; Variations, p. 33; Advertisement (as in No. XXIII), p. [34].

[_Note._--The Advertisement, which is dated _October, 1830_, states that the 'Devil's Walk' 'has now put forth its fifteen thousandth copy', and apologizes for 'an error respecting its authorship'. The Second edition forms part of a volume entitled Facetiae, Being a General Collection of the Jeux d' Esprit which have been illustrated by Robert Cruikshank. London: William Kidd, 6, Old Bond Street. MDCCCXXXI. It is followed by the 'Devil's Visit', and 'The Real Devil's Walk.']

XXV

Ten Etchings, / Illustrations of the / Devil's Walk. / By / Thomas Landseer. / London: / Published by R. G. Standing, / 24, Cornhill. / 1831. / [Folio.

_Collation._--Title, one leaf, unpaged; The imprint, London: / Henry Baylis, Johnson's Court, Fleet-Street. /, is at the foot of the Reverse. The Devil's Walk. A Word at Starting, pp. 1-14, is followed by the illustrations, unpaged, with a single stanza at the foot of each illustration.

XXVI

THE POETICAL WORKS Of / S. T. COLERIDGE / Vol. I, Vol. II, &c. / LONDON / William Pickering / 1834 / [8{o}.

_Collation._--Vol. I. Half-title, The Poetical Works Of / S. T. Coleridge / In Three Volumes / Vol. I, one leaf, p. [i]; Title, one leaf, pp. [iii]-[iv]; The Imprint, Charles Whittingham / London /, is at the foot of p. [iv]; Preface, pp. [v]-x; Contents, pp. [xi]-xiv; Text, pp. [1]-288; The Imprint, London: / Printed by C. Whittingham, Tooks Court. /, is at the foot of p. 288.

Vol. II. Half-title (as in Vol. I), Vol. II, one leaf, pp. [i]-[ii]; Title, one leaf, pp. [iii]-[iv]; The Imprint (as in Vol. I) is at the foot of p. iv: Contents, pp. [v]-vi; Text, pp. [1]-338; The Imprint (as in Vol. I) is at the foot of p. 338.

Vol. III. Half-title (as in Vol. I), pp. [i]-[ii]; Title, one leaf, pp. [iii]-[iv]; The Imprint (as in Vol. I) is at the foot of p. [iv]; Half-title, The Piccolomini, &c., p. [1]; Preface to the First Edition, p. [3]; Text, pp. [5]-330; 'Love, Hope, and Patience in Education', p. 331; Erratum, p. [332]; The Imprint (as in Vol. I) is at the foot of p. [332].

[_Note._--This edition, the last printed in the lifetime of the author, was reprinted in 1835, 1840, 1844, 1847, &c. The Title-page is ornamented with the Aldine device and motto as in No. XXI.]

CONTENTS

[Preface, same as 1829, No. XXI, pp. [v]-x; the titles of Poems not published or collected before 1834 are italicized.]

Page Page of the Half-title 1834 present edition JUVENILE POEMS [1] Genevieve 3 19 Sonnet. To the Autumnal Moon 3 5 _Anthem for the Children of Christ's Hospital_ 4 5 Time, real and imaginary 5 419 Monody on the Death of Chatterton 6 13 Songs of the Pixies 13 40 The Raven 18 169 _Music_ 20 28 _Devonshire Roads_ 21 27 _Inside the Coach_ 22 26 _Mathematical Problem_ 23 21 _The Nose_ 27 8 _Monody on a Tea-Kettle_ 29 18 _Absence, a Farewell Ode_ 30 29 _Sonnet. On Leaving School_ 31 29 _To the Muse_ 32 9 _With Fielding's Amelia_ 33 37 _Sonnet. On hearing that his Sister's Death was inevitable_ 33 20 _On Seeing a Youth affectionately welcomed by a Sister_ 34 21 _The same_ 35 78 _Pain_ 35 17 _Life_ 36 11 Lines on an Autumnal Evening 36 51 The Rose 40 45 The Kiss 41 63 To a Young Ass 43 74 _Happiness_ 44 30 Domestic Peace 48 71 The Sigh 48 62 Epitaph on an Infant 49 68 _On Imitation_ 50 26 _Honor_ 50 24 _Progress of Vice_ 53 12 Lines written at the King's Arms, Ross 54 57 _Destruction of the Bastile_ 55 10 Lines to a beautiful Spring in a Village 57 58 On a Friend who died of a Frenzy Fever induced by calumnious reports 58 76 To a Young Lady, with a Poem on the French Revolution 60 64 Sonnet I. "My Heart has thanked thee, Bowles" 62 84 ---- II. "As late I lay in Slumber's Shadowy Vale." 63 80 ---- III. "Though roused by that dark vizir Riot rude" 64 81 ---- IV. "When British Freedom for a happier land" 64 79 ---- V. "It was some Spirit, Sheridan!" 65 87 ---- VI. "O what a loud and fearful shriek" 66 82 ---- VII. "As when far off" 66 82 ---- VIII. "Thou gentle look" 67 47 ---- IX. "Pale Roamer through the Night!" 68 71 ---- X. "Sweet Mercy!" 68 93 ---- XI. "Thou Bleedest, my Poor Heart!". 69 72 ---- XII. To the Author of the Robbers. 70 72 Lines composed while climbing Brockley Coomb 70 94 Lines in the Manner of Spenser 71 94 Imitated from Ossian 73 38 The Complaint of Ninathoma 74 39 Imitated from the Welsh 75 58 To an Infant 75 91 Lines in Answer to a Letter from Bristol 76 96 To a Friend in Answer to a melancholy Letter 80 90 Religious Musings 82 108 The Destiny of Nations, a Vision 98 131

Half-title

Sibylline Leaves. / I. Poems occasioned by Political Events / Or Feelings Connected / With them. / [119] Motto--When I have borne in memory, &c. (fourteen lines), Wordsworth [120] Ode to the Departing Year [121] 160 France, an Ode 128 243 Fears in Solitude 132 256 Fire, Famine, and Slaughter 141 237

II. LOVE POEMS [145] Motto--eleven lines from a Latin poem of Petrarch [145] Love [145] 330 _The Ballad of the Dark Ladie. A Fragment_ 150 293 Lewti, or the Circassian Love Chaunt 152 253 The Picture, or the Lover's Resolution 155 369 The Night Scene, a Dramatic Fragment 162 421 To an Unfortunate Woman 166 172 To an Unfortunate Woman at the Theatre 167 171 Lines Composed in a Concert Room 168 324 The Keepsake 170 345 To a Lady, with Falconer's Shipwreck 172 424 To a Young Lady on her recovery from a Fever 173 252 Something Childish, but very Natural 174 313 Home-sick: written in Germany 175 314 Answer to a Child's Question 176 386 A Child's Evening Prayer 176 401 The Visionary Hope 177 416 The Happy Husband 178 388 Recollections of Love 179 409 On revisiting the Sea-Shore 181 359

III. MEDITATIVE POEMS. / In Blank Verse [183] Motto--eight lines translated from Schiller [183] Hymn before Sunrise, in the Vale of Chamouni 183 376 Lines written in the Album at Elbingerode in the Hartz Forest 187 315 On observing a Blossom on the First of February 189 148 The Æolian Harp 190 100 Reflections on having left a place of Retirement 393 106 To the Rev. George Coleridge 196 173 Inscription for a Fountain on a Heath 199 381 A Tombless Epitaph 200 413 This Lime-Tree Bower my Prison 201 178 To a Friend, who had declared his intention of writing no more Poetry 205 158 To William Wordsworth, composed on the night after his recitation of a Poem on the growth of an individual mind 206 403 The Nightingale 211 264 Frost at Midnight 216 240 The Three Graves 219 267

ODES AND MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 235 Dejection, an Ode 235 362 Ode to Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire 241 335 Ode to Tranquillity 244 360 To a Young Friend, on his proposing to domesticate with the Author 246 Lines to W. L. while he sang a song to Purcell's Music 249 286 Addressed to a Young Man of Fortune 249 157 Sonnet. To the River Otter 250 48 ---- Composed on a journey homeward after hearing of the birth of a son 251 153 ---- To a Friend 252 154 The Virgin's Cradle Hymn 252 417 Epitaph on an Infant 253 417 Melancholy, a Fragment 253 73 Tell's Birth Place 254 309 A Christmas Carol 256 338 Human Life 258 425 _Moles_ 259 430 The Visit of the Gods 259 310 Elegy, imitated from Akenside 261 69 _Separation_ 262 397 _On Taking Leave of ----_ 263 410 The Pang more sharp than all 263 457 Kubla Khan 266 295 The Pains of Sleep 270 389 _Limbo_ 272 429 _Ne plus ultra_ 273 431 Apologetic Preface to Fire, Famine, and Slaughter 274

END OF VOL. I

VOLUME II

THE ANCIENT MARINER.

## Part I. 1 187

" II. 5 189 " III. 7 192 " IV. 10 196 " V. 13 198 " VI. 18 202 " VII. 23 206

CHRISTABEL, Part I 28 213 Conclusion to Part I 39 225

## Part II 41 227

Conclusion to Part II 53 235

Half-title

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS [55] Motto +Erôs aei+, &c. In many ways, &c. (four lines) _Alice du Clos; or, the Forked Tongue. A Ballad_ 57 469 _The Knight's Tomb_ 64 432 _Hymn to the Earth_ 65 327 _Written during a temporary blindness, 1799_ 67 305 _Mahomet_ 68 329 _Catullian Hendecasyllables_ 69 307 Duty surviving Self-Love 69 459 Phantom or Fact? a dialogue in Verse 70 484 _Phantom_ 71 393 Work without Hope 71 447 Youth and Age 72 439 A Day Dream 74 385 First Advent of Love 76 443 _Names_ 76 318 _Desire_ 77 485 _Love and Friendship opposite_ 77 484 _Not at home_ 77 484 To a Lady offended by a sportive observation 78 418 Lines suggested by the Last Words of Berengarius 79 460 _Sancti Dominici Pallium_ 80 448 The Devil's Thoughts 83 319 _The two round Spaces on the Tombstone_ 87 353 _Lines to a Comic Author_ 89 476 Constancy to an Ideal Object 90 455 The Suicide's Argument 91 419 The Blossoming of the Solitary Date Tree 92 395 _From the German_ 95 311 Fancy in Nubibus 96 435 The Two Founts 96 454 The Wanderings of Cain 99 288 Allegoric Vision 109 1091 New Thoughts on Old Subjects 117 462 The Garden of Boccaccio 127 478 _On a Cataract_ 131 308 _Love's Apparition and Evanishment_ 132 488 _Morning Invitation to a Child_ 133 _Consolation of a Maniac_ 135 _A Character_ 137 451 _The Reproof and Reply_ 140 441 _Cholera Cured beforehand_ 142 _Cologne_ 144 477 _On my joyful departure from the same City_ 144 477 _Written in an Album_ 145 _To the Author of the Ancient Mariner_ 145 _Metrical Feet. Lesson for a Boy_ 145 401 _The Homeric Hexameter described and exemplified_ 146 307 _The Ovidian Hexameter described and exemplified_ 146 308 _To the Young Artist, Kayser of Kayserworth_ 147 490 _Job's Luck_ 147 _On a Volunteer Singer_ 148 _On an Insignificant_ 148 _Profuse Kindness_ 148 _Charity in Thought_ 148 486 _Humility the Mother of Charity_ 149 486 _On an Infant which died before Baptism_ 149 312 _On Berkeley and Florence Coleridge_ 149 "+Gnôthi seauton+, _&c._ 150 487 "_Gently I took_," _&c._ 151 488 _My Baptismal Birthday_ 151 490 _Epitaph_ 152 491

Half-title

Remorse! / A Tragedy. / In Five Acts. / [153] Dramatis Personae. [154] 819 Remorse. 155 820 Appendix. [237] 881

Half-title, Motto, &c.

Zapolya: / A Christmas Tale / In Two Parts / [241] Advertisement. [242] 883 Zapolya. [243] 884

END OF VOL. II

VOLUME III

Half-title

The Piccolomini; / Or, the First Part of Wallenstein. / A Drama. /Translated from the German of Schiller. / [1] Preface to the First edition [3] 598 The Piccolomini [5] 600

Half-title

The / Death of Wallenstein. / A Tragedy. / In Five Acts: / [193] Preface of The Translator / To the First Edition. / [195] 724 Dramatis Personae [198] 726 The Death of Wallenstein [199] 726 Love, Hope, and Patience in Education 331 481 Erratum [332]

XXVII

THE POETICAL AND DRAMATIC WORKS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge; With a Life of the Author. London: John Thomas Cox, 84 High Holborn. MDCCCXXXVI. [8{o}, pp. lxxviii + 403.

The Life of the Author is followed by an Appendix containing 'Coleridge's Will', and 'Contemporary Notices of the Writings and Character of Coleridge'.

The Contents consist of the Poems published in 1797, together with 'The Nightingale'; 'Love'; 'The Ancient Mariner'; 'The Foster Mother's Tale'; four poems and seven sonnets reprinted from 1796; 'On a late Connubial Rupture'; and the 'Three Sonnets . . . in the manner of Contemporary Writers' reprinted from the _Poetical Register_. The Poems conclude with 'A Couplet, written in a volume of Poems presented by Mr. Coleridge to Dr. A.'--a highly respected friend, the loss of whose society he deeply regretted--

To meet, to know, to love--and then to part, Is the sad tale of many a human heart.

For the 'Couplet', vide _ante_, p. 410, 'To Two Sisters', ll. 1, 2. Dr. A. was probably John Anster, LL.D., the translator of Goethe's _Faust_.

The Dramatic Works consist of 'The Piccolomini' and 'The Death of Wallenstein'.

XXVIII

THE POETICAL AND DRAMATIC WORKS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, with a Life of the Author. London: Tho{s}. Allman 42 Holborn Hill 1837. [16{mo}, pp. viii + 392.

_Note._--The 'Life of the Author' does not form part of this edition. The Contents are identical with those of No. XXVII. The frontispiece depicts the 'Ancient Mariner' and the 'Wedding Guest'. The title-page, 'Drawn and Engraved by J. Romney,' is embellished with a curious vignette depicting a man in a night-cap lying in bed. A wife, or daughter, is in attendance. The vignette was probably designed to illustrate some other work.

XXIX

THE POETICAL WORKS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge with Life of the Author. London: Charles Daly, 14, Leicester Street, Leicester Square, _n. d._ [16{mo}, pp. xxxii + [35]-384.

The Contents consist of 'The Ancient Mariner' (with the marginal glosses printed at the end of the poem); the Poems of 1796, 1797, with a few exceptions: 'The Piccolomini'; 'The Death of Wallenstein'; 'The Dark Ladié'; 'The Raven'; 'A Christmas Carol'; and 'Fire, Famine, and Slaughter'--i. e. of poems then out of copyright, or reprinted from the _Morning Post_.

XXX

The Ancient Mariner, and other Poems. By S. T. Coleridge. Price Sixpence. London: Sherwood, Gilbert, and Piper, Paternoster-Row. MDCCCXLIII. J. Scott, Printer, 50, Hatfield Street. [16{mo}, pp. iv + 148.

_Note._--This edition formed one of the 'Pocket English Classics'. An illustrated title-page depicts the 'skiff-boat' with its crew of the Ancient Mariner, the Holy Hermit, the Pilot, and the Pilot's boy, who is jumping overboard. The flag bears the legend 'The Antient Mariner and Minor Poems By S. T. Coleridge'. The Contents include 'The Ancient Mariner', with the marginal glosses printed at the end of the poem; and a selection of poems published in 1796, 1797.

XXXI

THE POEMS of S. T. Coleridge [Aldine device and motto] London William Pickering 1844. [8{o}, pp. xvi + 372.

_Note._--The Contents of this volume, issued by Mrs. H. N. Coleridge as sole editress, consist of the Poems (not the Dramatic Works) included in 1834, with the following omissions, (1) Music, (2) Devonshire Roads, (3) Inside the Coach, (4) Mathematical Problem, (5) The Nose, (6) Monody on a Tea-kettle, (7) 'The Same,' 'I too a sister had', &c., (8) On Imitation, (9) Honor, (10) Progress of Vice, (11) The Two round spaces on the Tombstone; and the following additions, already republished in _Lit. Remains_, 1836, Vol. I, (1) Epigram, 'Hoarse Mævius', &c., (2) Casimir ad Lyram, (3) On the Christening of a Friend's Child, (4) Introduction to the Tale of the Dark Ladie, (5) An Ode to the Rain, (6) The Exchange, (7) Complaint, 'How seldom, Friend', &c., (8) 'What is Life', (9) Inscription for a Time-Piece, (10) +Epitaphion autograpton.+ Four songs from the dramas were also included. The German originals of (1) Schiller's 'Lines on a Cataract', (2) Friederike Brun's 'Chamouny at Sunrise', and (3) Schiller's distiches on the 'Homeric Hexameter' and the 'Ovidian Elegiac Metre' are printed on pp. 371, 372.

XXXII

THE POEMS of S. T. Coleridge [Aldine device and motto] London William Pickering 1848. [8{o}, pp. xvi + 372.

The Contents are identical with those of No. XXXI, with the exception of two additional 'Notes' (pp. 371, 372) containing the German original of Matthisson's _Milesisches Märchen_, and two stanzas of Cotton's _Chlorinda_, of which 'Separation' (_ante_, p. 397) is an adaptation.

XXXIII

THE RAVEN, A Christmas Tale, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Esq. Illustrated with Eight Plates, By an Old Traveller. [_n. d._]

_Collation._--Oblong folio, pp. i-vi + eight scenes unpaged, faced by eight lithographs.

XXXIV

THE POEMS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Edited by Derwent and Sara Coleridge. A New Edition. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. 1852. [8{o}, pp. xxvii ('Advertisement', and 'Editors' Preface to the Present Edition', pp. [v]-xiv) + 378 + 'Notes', pp. [379]-388.

_ADVERTISEMENT_

This volume was prepared for the press by my lamented sister, Mrs. H. N. Coleridge, and will have an additional interest to many readers as the last monument of her highly-gifted mind. At her earnest request, my name appears with hers on the title-page, but the assistance rendered by me has been, in fact, little more than mechanical. The preface, and the greater part of the notes, are her composition:--the selection and arrangement have been determined almost exclusively by her critical judgment, or from records in her possession. A few slight corrections and unimportant additions are all that have been found necessary, the first and last sheets not having had the benefit of her own revision.

DERWENT COLERIDGE.

ST. MARK'S COLLEGE, CHELSEA, _May_ 1852.

PREFACE TO THE PRESENT EDITION [1852]

As a chronological arrangement of Poetry in completed collections is now beginning to find general favour, pains have been taken to follow this method in the present Edition of S. T. Coleridge's Poetical and Dramatic Works, as far as circumstances permitted--that is to say, as far as the date of composition of each poem was ascertainable, and as far as the plan could be carried out without effacing the classes into which the Author had himself distributed his most important poetical publication, the 'Sibylline Leaves,' namely, POEMS OCCASIONED BY POLITICAL EVENTS, OR FEELINGS CONNECTED WITH THEM; LOVE POEMS; MEDITATIVE POEMS IN BLANK VERSE; ODES AND MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. On account of these impediments, together with the fact, that many a poem, such as it appears in its ultimate form, is the growth of different periods, the agreement with chronology in this Edition is approximative rather than perfect: yet in the majority of instances the date of each piece has been made out, and its place fixed accordingly.

In another point of view also, the Poems have been distributed with relation to time: they are thrown into three broad groups, representing, first the Youth,--secondly, the Early Manhood and Middle Life,--thirdly, the Declining Age of the Poet; and it will be readily perceived that each division has its own distinct tone and colour, corresponding to the period of life in which it was composed. It has been suggested, indeed, that Coleridge had four poetical epochs, more or less diversely characterised,--that there is a discernible difference betwixt the productions of his Early Manhood and of his Middle Age, the latter being distinguished from those of his Stowey life, which may be considered as his poetic prime, by a less buoyant spirit. Fire they have; but it is not the clear, bright, mounting fire of his earlier poetry, conceived and executed when 'he and youth were house-mates still.' In the course of a very few years after three-and-twenty all his very finest poems were produced; his twenty-fifth year has been called his _annus mirabilis_. To be a 'Prodigal's favourite--[1169:1]then, worse truth! a Miser's pensioner,' is the lot of Man. In respect of poetry, Coleridge was a 'Prodigal's favourite,' more, perhaps, than ever Poet was before.

* * * * *

[The poems] produced before the Author's twenty-fourth year [1796], devoted as he was to the 'soft strains' of Bowles, have more in common with the passionate lyrics of Collins and the picturesque wildness of the pretended Ossian, than with the well-tuned sentimentality of that Muse which the overgrateful poet has represented as his earliest inspirer. For the young they will ever retain a peculiar charm, because so fraught with the joyous spirit of youth; and in the minds of all readers that feeling which disposes men 'to set the bud above the rose full-blown' would secure them an interest, even if their intrinsic beauty and sweetness were less adequate to obtain it.

* * * * *

The present Editors have been guided in the general arrangement of this edition by those of 1817 and 1828, which may be held to represent the author's matured judgment upon the larger and more important part of his poetical productions. They have reason, indeed, to believe, that the edition of 1828 was the last upon which he was able to bestow personal care and attention. That of 1834, the last year of his earthly sojourning, a period when his thoughts were wholly engrossed, so far as the decays of his frail outward part left them free for intellectual pursuits and speculations, by a grand scheme of Christian Philosophy, to the enunciation of which in a long projected work his chief thoughts and aspirations had for many years been directed, was arranged mainly, if not entirely, at the discretion of his earliest Editor, H. N. Coleridge. . . Such alterations only have been made in this final arrangement of the Poetical and Dramatic Works of S. T. Coleridge, by those into whose charge they have devolved, as they feel assured, both the Author himself and his earliest Editor would at this time find to be either necessary or desirable. The observations and experience of eighteen years, a period long enough to bring about many changes in literary opinion, have satisfied them that the immature essays of boyhood and adolescence, not marked with any such prophetic note of genius as certainly does belong to the four school-boy poems they have retained, tend to injure the general effect of a body of poetry. That a writer, especially a writer of verse, should keep out of sight his third-rate performances, is now become a maxim with critics; for they are not, at the worst, effectless: they have an effect, that of diluting and weakening, to the reader's feelings, the general power of the collection. Mr. Coleridge himself constantly, after 1796, rejected a certain portion of his earliest published _Juvenilia_: never printed any attempts of his boyhood, except those four with which the present publication commences, and there can be no doubt that the Editor of 1834 would ere now have come to the conclusion, that only such of the Author's early performances as were sealed by his own approval ought to form a permanent part of the body of his poetical works.

* * * * *

It must be added, that time has robbed of their charm certain sportive effusions of Mr. Coleridge's later years, which were given to the public in the first gloss and glow of novelty in 1834, and has proved that, though not devoid of the quality of genius, they possess upon the whole, not more than an ephemeral interest. These the Editors have not scrupled to omit on the same grounds and in the same confidence that has been already explained.

* * * * *

S. C.

CHESTER PLACE, REGENT'S PARK. _March_, 1852.

The Contents of 1852 correspond with those of 1844, 1848, with the following omissions: (1) Anthem for the Children of Christ's Hospital; (2) Sonnet, 'Farewell, parental scenes', &c.; (3) To the Muse; (4) With Fielding's Amelia; (5) Sonnet, 'On receiving an account', &c.; (6) Sonnet, 'On seeing a Youth', &c.; (7) Pain; (8) Epigram, 'Hoarse Mævius', &c.; (9) Casimir ad Lyram; (10) 'On the Christening', &c.; (11) Elegy imitated from Akenside; (12) Phantom; (13) Allegoric Vision; (14) Reproof and Reply; (15) Written in an Album, 'Parry', &c.; (16) To the Author of the Ancient Mariner; (17) Job's Luck; (18) On a Volunteer Singer; together with four songs from the dramas.

The additions were (1) Sonnet to Pitt, 'Not always', &c.; (2) Sonnet, 'Not Stanhope', &c.; (3) To the Author of Poems published anonymously at Bristol; (4) The Day-Dream, 'If thou wert here', &c.; (5) The Foster-Mother's Tale; (6) A Hymn; (7) The Alienated Mistress. A Madrigal; (8) To a Lady, 'Tis not the lily brow', &c.; (9) Song, 'Tho' veiled', &c.; (10) L'envoy. 'In vain we supplicate', &c.

The Notes, pp. 379-88, contain, _inter alia_, the Latin original of 'Kisses' (vide _ante_, p. 46), and the Sonnet, 'No more my visionary Soul shall dwell', attributed by Southey to Favell (vide _ante_, p. 68).

XXXV

THE DRAMATIC WORKS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Edited by Derwent Coleridge. A New Edition. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. 1852. [8{o}, pp. xvi + 427.

CONTENTS

Remorse. A Tragedy in Five Acts. Zapolya. A Christmas Tale. In two Parts. Part I. The Prelude, &c. Zapolya. Part II. The Sequel, entitled 'The Usurper's Fate.' The Piccolomini; or the first part of 'Wallenstein.' A Drama. Translated from Schiller. The Death of Wallenstein. A Tragedy. In Five Acts. Notes.

_Note._--The Preface contains a critical estimate of _Remorse_ and _Zapolya_, and of the translation of Schiller's _Wallenstein_. At the close of the Preface [pp. xii-xiv] the Editor comments on the strictures of a writer in the _Westminster Review_, Art. 3 July 1850 (vide _ante_, p. 811), and upholds the merits of the Translation as a whole. The Preface is dated 'St. Mark's College, Chelsea, _July_, 1852'.

XXXVI

THE COMPLETE WORKS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. With an Introductory Essay upon his Philosophical and Theological opinions. Edited by Professor Shedd. In Seven Volumes. Vol. vii. New York: Harper & Brothers, Publishers, Nos. 329 and 331 Pearl Street, Franklin Square. 1853.

Second Title.--The Poetical and Dramatic Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1853. [8{o}, pp. xiv + 15-702.

The Contents are identical with those of 1834, with ten additions first collected in 1844. The Fall of Robespierre is included in the Dramatic Works. 'Lines in Answer to a Letter from Bristol', pp. 67-70, are reprinted as 'Lines Written at Shurton Bars near Bridgewater', pp. 103-5 (vide _ante_, p. 96). Vol. vii was republished with an Index to the preceding six volumes in 1854.

XXXVII

THE POEMS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Edited by Derwent and Sara Coleridge. With a Biographical Memoir By Ferdinand Freiligrath. Copyright Edition. Leipzig Bernhard Tauchnitz 1860.

_Collation._--General Half-title, one leaf, Collection of British Authors. Vol. 512. The Poems, &c. (4 lines). In One Volume, p. [i]; Title, p. [iii]; Half-title, Biographical Memoir of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. By Ferdinand Freiligrath, p. [iv]; Advertisements, p. [v]; Biographical Memoir, pp. [vi]-xxviii; Advertisement (to ed. of 1852), p. xxix; Preface, pp. [xxxi]-xl; Contents, pp. [xli]-xlv. Text, pp. [1]-336; Notes, pp. [337]-344.

XXXVIII

THE POEMS of S. T. Coleridge. London: Bell and Daldy. 1862. [16{mo}, pp. xiii + 299.

XXXIX

THE POEMS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Edited by Derwent and Sara Coleridge. With an Appendix. A New Edition. London: Edward Moxon & Co., Dover Street. 1863.

[8{o}, pp. xxvii + [1]-378 + Notes, pp. [379]-388 + Appendix, pp. [391]-404.

The text of the Poems is identical with that of 1852, but a fresh 'Advertisement', pp. [iii]-iv, is prefixed to the 'Advertisement' dated May, 1852.

_ADVERTISEMENT_

The last authorised edition of S. T. Coleridge's Poems, published by Mr. Moxon in 1852, bears the names of Derwent and Sara Coleridge, as joint editors. In writing my name with my sister's, I yielded to her

## particular desire and request, but the work was performed almost

entirely by herself. My opinion was consulted as to the general arrangement, and more especially as to the choice or rejection of

## particular pieces. Even here I had no occasion to do more than confirm

the conclusions to which she had herself arrived, and sanction the course which she had herself adopted. I shared in the responsibility, but cannot claim any share in the credit of the undertaking. This edition I propose to leave intact as it came from her own hands. I wish it to remain as one among other monuments of her fine taste, her solid judgment, and her scrupulous conscientiousness.

A few pieces of some interest appear, however, to have been overlooked. Two characteristic sonnets, not included in any former edition of the Poems, have been preserved in an anonymous work, entitled 'Letters, Recollections, and Conversations of S. T. Coleridge.' These with a further selection from the omitted pieces, principally from the Juvenile Poems, have been added in an Appendix. So placed, they will not at any rate interfere with the general effect of the collection, while they add to its completeness.

All these buds of promise were once withdrawn, and, afterwards reproduced by the Author. It is not easy now to draw a line of separation, which shall not be deemed either too indulgent, or too severe. [The concluding lines of the 'Advertisement' dealt with questions of copyright]. DERWENT COLERIDGE.

APPENDIX

[First printed in 1863.]

1. To Nature. [_Letters, Conversations_, &c., 1836, i. 144.] 2. Farewell to Love. [Ibid., i. 143.] 3. 'I yet remain', &c. [First six lines by W. L. Bowles.] 4. Count Rumford's Essays. [By W. L. Bowles.] 5. 'The early Year's', &c. [Ver perpetuum, _ante_, p. 148.] 6. To the Rev. W. J. H. [1796.] 7. To a Primrose. [_The Watchman_.] 8. On the Christening of a Friend's Child. [1797.] 9. Mutual Passion. [_Sibylline Leaves._] 10. From a Young Lady. [The Silver Thimble, _ante_, p. 104.] 11. Translation of a Paraphrase of the Gospels. [_Biog. Lit._, 1807, i. 203, 204.] 12. Israel's Lament. [_Ante_, pp. 433, 434.]

_Notes._--(1) No. 4 forms part of a Poem 'On Mr. Howard's Account of Lazarettos,' _Sonnets, with other Poems_, 1794, pp. 52, 53. See Mr. T. Hutchinson's note in the _Athenæum_, May 3, 1902.

(2) An MS. of No. 10, 'From a Young Lady', is preserved in the library of Rugby School. The poem is dated August, 1795, and is partly in the 'Young Lady's' handwriting. It is signed 'Sara[*h*] Fricker', a proof that her future husband meant from the first to alter the spelling of her name.

(3) The frontispiece of this edition is a lithograph by W. Hall of a portrait of Coleridge, aet. 26, formerly in the possession of Thomas Poole.

THE POEMS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Edited by Derwent and Sara Coleridge. With an Appendix. A new and enlarged edition, with a brief Life of the author. London: E. Moxon and Co., 44 Dover Street. [1870.] [8{o}, pp. lxvii + 429.

_Note._--The Contents of 1870 are identical with those of 1863, with the addition of an Introductory Essay (i. e. a Critical Memoir) by Derwent Coleridge, pp. xxiii-lix. 'The Rime of the Ancyent Mariner,' in Seven Parts, was reprinted verbatim from the original as it appeared in _Lyrical Ballads_, 1798. The Introductory Memoir (an 'Essay in a Brief Model') has never been reprinted.

XLI

THE RAVEN. A Poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Illustrated by Ella Hallward With an Introduction by the Hon. Stephen Coleridge. H. S. Nichols L{td}, 39 Charing Cross Road London W.C. MDCCCXCVIII. [4{o}.

_Note._--The text is printed on 14 sheets, unpaged. There are thirteen illustrations and other embellishments.

XLII

OSORIO A Tragedy _As originally written in_ 1797 By Samuel Taylor Coleridge Now first printed from a Copy recently discovered by the Publisher with the Variorum Readings of 'Remorse' and a Monograph on The History of the Play in its earlier and later form by the Author of 'Tennysoniana' London John Pearson York Street Covent Garden 1873. [8{o}, pp. xxii + 204.

XLIII

THE POETICAL WORKS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Edited with an Introductory Memoir and Illustrations by William B. Scott. London. George Routledge and Sons. [1874.] [8{o}, pp. xxviii + 420.

XLIV

THE POETICAL WORKS OF COLERIDGE AND KEATS With a Memoir of Each Four Volumes in Two. New York Published by Hurd and Houghton Boston: H. O. Houghton and Company The Riverside Press, Cambridge. 1878. [8{o}.

Vol. I, pp. cxl + 372.

Vol. II, pp. vi + 331 + pp. xxxvi + 438 (Life and Poetical Works of Keats).

_Note._--This edition was a reprint of the 'Poetical and Dramatic Works' of 1852.

XLV

THE POETICAL AND DRAMATIC WORKS OF SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. FOUNDED ON THE AUTHOR'S LATEST EDITION OF 1834 WITH MANY ADDITIONAL PIECES NOW FIRST INCLUDED, AND A COLLECTION OF VARIOUS READINGS Volume the First [Volume the Second, &c.] [The Aldine device and motto.] London Basil Montagu Pickering 196 Piccadilly 1877. [Reissued, with additions and with the imprint of London Macmillan and Co. 1880.]

_Contents._--Vol. I. Contents, &c., pp. viii; Memoir of S. T. Coleridge, pp. [ix]-cxviii; Poems, pp. [1]-217; Appendix (including Southey's Translation of a 'Greek Ode on Astronomy', &c.), pp. 219-224.

Vol. II. Contents, &c., pp. xii; Poems, pp. [1]-352; Supplement, pp. 355*-364*; Appendix, pp. 353-381.

Vol. III. Remorse, and Zapolya, pp. 290.

Vol. IV. Fall of Robespierre, and _Translation of Schiller's 'Wallenstein'_, pp. 413.

_Note._--The Editor, Richard Herne Shepherd, included in the first two volumes the poems published by Coleridge in 1796, 1797, _An. Anth._, 1800, 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_ (1817), 1828, 1829, 1834, together with those published by H. N. Coleridge in _Literary Remains_, 1836, by Sara and Derwent Coleridge in 1844, 1852 (with the exception of the Hymn, 1814), and by Derwent Coleridge in the Appendix of 1863.

The following poems collected from various sources were reprinted for the first time:--

Vol. I. (1) Julia; (2) First version of the Sonnet to the Rev. W. L. Bowles; (3) On a late Connubial Rupture; (4) Sonnets signed Nehemiah Higginbottom.

Vol. II. (1) Talleyrand to Lord Granville; (2) A Stranger Minstrel; (3) To Two Sisters, &c.; (4) Water Ballad; (5) Modern Critics; (6) 'The Poet in his lone', &c. [Apologia, &c., _ante_, p. 345]; (7) Song, ex improviso, &c.; (8) The Old Man of the Alps; (9) Three Epigrams from _The Watchman_; (10) Sonnet on the birth of a son; (11) On Deputy ----; (12) To a Musical Critic; (13) +Egôenkaipan+; (14) The Bridge-street Committee; (15) 'What boots to tell', &c.; (16) Mr. Baker's Courtship; (17) Lines in a German Student's Album; (18) On Kepler; (19) Distich from the Greek.

The Supplement published in 1880 (Vol. II, pp. 355*-364*) contains (1) Monody on Chatterton [First Version]; (2) To the Evening Star; (3) Anna and Harland; (4) Translation of Wrangham's _Hendecasyllabi_, &c.; (5) To Miss Brunton; (6) The Mad Monk. Bibliographical matter of interest and importance is contained in the Memoir, and in the Notes to Vol. II, pp. 375-381. Variants of the text, derived from the _Morning Post_, and from earlier editions, are printed as footnotes to the text. In Vol. III. the Editor supplies a collation of the text of _Remorse_ as published in 1852 with that of _Osorio_ [London: John Pearson, 1873] and with that of the First and Second Editions of _Remorse_ published in 1813.

XLVI

The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. With Life. Engravings on Steel. Gale and Inglis. Edinburgh: Bernard Terrace. London: 26 Paternoster Square. [1881.] [8{o}, pp. xxviii + 420.

_Note._--This edition includes the _Fall of Robespierre_, and _Christobell_. _A Gothic Tale_ as published in the _European Magazine_, April, 1815.

XLVII

THE POETICAL WORKS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Edited with Introduction and Notes by T. Ashe, B.A. of St. John's College, Cambridge In Two Volumes. London George Bell and Sons, York Street Covent Garden 1885. [The Frontispiece of Vol. I is a portrait of S. T. Coleridge, aet. 23, from a crayon drawing by Robert Hancock: of Vol. II, a view of Greta Hall, Keswick.] [8{o}.

Vol. I. Title, &c., pp. [iii]-xiv; Introduction, &c., pp. [xv]-clxxxvi; Poems, pp. 1-212.

Vol. II. Contents, &c., pp. [v]-xiii; Poems, pp. 1-409.

_Note._--Section 3 of the Introduction, pp. cxxxviii-clxxxvi, supplies a Bibliography of the Poems. The Dramas are not included in the _Poetical Works_. In the 'Table of Contents' poems not included in 1834 are marked by an asterisk, but of these only three, (1) 'The Tears of a Grateful People'; (2) 'The Humour of Pallas' ['My Godmother's Beard'], and (3) 'Lines written in the Common Place Book of Miss Barbour', were collected for the first time. The 'Introduction', the work of a genuine poet, contains much that is valuable and interesting, but the edition as a whole is by no means an advancement on _P. and D. W._, 1877-1880.

XLVIII

THE POETICAL WORKS of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Edited with a Biographical Introduction by James Dykes Campbell [=London=] Macmillan and Co. And New York 1893 _All rights reserved._ [8{o}, pp. cxxiv + 667.

_Contents._--Authorities cited in the Introduction--Corrigenda, p. vi; Preface, pp. [vii]-x; Introduction, pp. [xi]-cxxiv; Poems, pp. [1]-210; Dramatic Works, pp. [211]-442; Addenda, (i) Epigrams, pp. [443]-453, (ii) Fragments from a Common Place Book, pp. 453-458, (iii) Fragments from various sources, pp. [459]-470; (iv) Adaptations, pp. [471]-474; Appendix A. The Raven, pp. [475]-476; Appendix B. Greek Prize Ode, &c. [from MS.], pp. 476-477; Appendix C. To a Young Ass [from MS.], pp. 477-478; Appendix D. Osorio [from MSS.], pp. 479-512; Appendix E. The Rime of the Ancient Mariner [1798], pp. 512-520; Appendix F. Mont Blanc. The Summit of the Vale of Chamouny, an Hour before Sunrise--An Hymn (_Coleorton Letters_, 1887, i. 26-29), pp. 521-522; Appendix G. Dejection: An Ode (_M. P._, Oct. 4, 1802), pp. 522-524; Appendix H. To a Gentleman [W. Wordsworth] (_Coleorton Letters_, i. 213-218), pp. 525-526; Appendix I. Apologetic Preface to 'Fire, Famine and Slaughter', pp. 527-533; Appendix J. Allegoric Verses, pp. 534-537; Appendix K. Titles, Prefaces, and Contents, &c., pp. 537-559; Notes, pp. [561]-654; Index to the Poems, &c., pp. [655]-659; Index to First Lines, pp. [661]-667.

The Poems include all those published in 1877-1880 with the addition of the _Hymn_, first published in 1852, and the omission of 'The Old Man of the Alps' (_M. P._, Apr. 13, 1798) together with the following pieces collected for the first time (*), or printed for the first time from MSS. (MS.):--(1) Dura Navis (MS.); (2) Nil pejus, &c. (MS.); (3) Quae nocent, &c. (MS.); (4) Invocation (MS.); (5) On a Lady Weeping (MS.); (6) A Wish written, &c. (MS.); (7) An Ode in the Manner of Anacreon (MS.); (8) A Lover's Complaint, &c.; (9) To Fortune (*); (10) The Faded Flower (*); (11) On Bala Hill [by R. Southey] (MS.); (12) Count Rumford [by W. L. Bowles] (*); (13) Verses to J. Horne Tooke (*); (14) Ad Vilmum Axiologum (MS.); (15) The Snowdrop (MS.); (16) To Matilda Betham, &c. (*); (17) Homeless (*); (18) Sonnet. Translated from Marini (MS.) (19) A Sunset (MS.); (20) Tears of a Grateful People (*); (21) To Mary Pridham (MS.).

Of the Epigrams, pp. 443-455, the following were first printed from MS., (1) 'You're careful', &c.; (2) 'Say what you will', &c.; (3) On an Insignificant 'No doleful', &c.; (4) On a Slanderer 'From yonder tomb', &c.; (5) 'Money I've heard', &c.

Of fifty-four Fragments from a Common Place Book eighteen were first printed in _Literary Remains_, i. 277-281, and the rest were published or collected for the first time: of sixty-six Fragments from Various Sources thirty-three were first published from MSS., and others were collected for the first time.

Much had been accomplished by the Editor of _P. and D. W._, 1877-1880, but the excellence of the critical apparatus, the style and substance of the critical and explanatory notes, and the amount and quality of fresh material have made and must continue to make the Edition of 1893 the standard edition of Coleridge's _Poetical Works_. The 'Introductory Memoir' was republished as 'A Narrative of the Life of Samuel Taylor Coleridge', Macmillan, 1894.

XLIX

COLERIDGE'S POEMS _A Facsimile Reproduction Of The Proofs And MSS. Of Some_ OF THE POEMS EDITED BY THE LATE JAMES DYKES CAMPBELL _Author of "Samuel Taylor Coleridge, A Narrative of the Events of his Life"; and Editor of "The Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge."_ With Preface and Notes By W. Hale White Westminster Archibald Constable and Co. 1899.

_Note._--This volume contains a reprint of a volume of proofs endorsed 'Coleridge's MSS. Corrected Copy of a Work'--'Mr. Cottle's', and a facsimile reproduction of three MSS., with the original erasures and alternative readings. The volume of proofs formerly in the possession of J. Dykes Campbell was reproduced by him, and he added the facsimile of the MSS. in the British Museum which he had deciphered and prepared for publication. Four years after his death the sheets were bound up and published with an elucidatory preface by Mr. W. Hale White. A copy of this literary curiosity as it was left by Mr. Campbell, without the Preface, is in the possession of the Editor.

CHRISTABEL By Samuel Taylor Coleridge Illustrated by a Facsimile of the Manuscript And by Textual and other Notes By Ernest Hartley Coleridge Hon. F.R.S.L. London: Henry Frowde MCMVII. [8{o}, pp. ix + 113.

_Note._--The Frontispiece is a photogravure (by Emery Walker) of a pastel drawing of S. T. Coleridge aet. 26. The Collotype Facsimile (thirty-eight leaves unpaged) is inserted between pp. 53 and 54. The text, as collated with three MSS., two transcriptions, and the First Edition, &c., is on pp. 61-96; a Bibliographical Index [Appendix IV] on pp. 111-113. This Edition (dedicated to the Poet's grand-daughters Edith and Christabel Rose Coleridge) was issued by Henry Frowde at the expense of the Royal Society of Literature.

THE POEMS OF COLERIDGE With An Introduction By Ernest Hartley Coleridge And Illustrations By Gerald Metcalfe John Lane The Bodley Head London, W. John Lane Company New York.

[8{o}, pp. xxxi + 460 + Index to the Poems [461]-466 + Index to First Lines [469]-477.]

_Note._--The Illustrations consist of twenty-three full-page illustrations, together with numerous headings, tailpieces, and vignettes. The Contents include all poems previously published which were not subject to the law of copyright:--'The Walk Before Supper', 'The Reproof and Reply', and 'Sancti Dominici Pallium' were printed for the first time from the original MSS.

LII

THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER. By Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Illustrated by Twenty-Five Poetic and Dramatic Scenes, Designed and Etched By David Scott, Member of the Scottish Academy of Painting. Edinburgh: Alexander Hill, 50, Princes Street; Ackermann & Co. London. M. DCCC. XXXVII. [Folio.

_Note._--Text with marginal glosses in Gothic letters, pp. [5]-25 + twenty-four full-page etchings unpaged, preceded by an illustrated title-page. Scenes from Coleridge's Rime of the Ancient Mariner, By David Scott, S.A. [Etching of the Ancient Mariner on a storm-tost coast ringing a bell, with a motto (_from Kubla Khan_) "All who saw would cry Beware", COLERIDGE.] Edinburgh Published By Alex{r}. Hill, 50 Princes Street 1837. The cloth binding is embellished with a vignette--a lyre encircled by a winged serpent.

LIII

COLERIDGE'S RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER Illustrated by J. Noel Paton, R.S.A. Art Union of London 1863 [W. H. M{c}Farlane Lithog{r} Edinburgh] [Oblong Folio.

_Note._--The text, pp. [1]-12, is followed by twenty full-page illustrations. The title-page and cloth binding are embellished with a symbolic vignette--a cross-bow, with twisted snake, resting on a cross encircled with stars.

LIV

THE POETICAL WORKS of Samuel T. Coleridge Edited, with a Critical Memoir, By William Michael Rossetti. Illustrated By Thomas Seccombe. London: E. Moxon, Son, & Co., Dover Street. [8{o}, pp. xxxii + 424.

_Note._--In a Note affixed to the 'Prefatory Notice' the Editor states that this edition includes all Coleridge's 'Dramas . . . with the exception of _Zapolya_. In lieu of this _The Fall of Robespierre_, which has never as yet been reprinted in England, is introduced.'

FOOTNOTES:

[1135:1]

Felix curarum &c. . . . . . . . . . . . . Nos otia vitae Solamur cantu, ventosaque gaudia famae Quaerimus. STATIUS, _Silvarum_ lib. iv, iv, ll. 46-51.

[1135:2] The following Advertisement was issued on a separate sheet:--

London, April 16. / _This day was Published._ / Printed on Wove Paper, and Hot-Pressed, / Price 5_s._ in Boards,--Fools-cap 8 vo. / POEMS / ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, by / S. T. COLERIDGE, / Late of Jesus College, Cambridge. / [=London=]: Printed for G. G. and J. Robinsons, Pater-Noster Row, and / J. Cottle, Bookseller, Bristol; and to be had of the / PUBLISHERS of the WATCHMAN / 1796. /

[1136:1] From 'An Evening Address to a Nightingale', by Cuthbert Shaw--Anderson's _British Poets_, xi. 564.

[1136:2]

'Why may not LANGHORNE, simple in his lay, _Effusion_ on _Effusion_, pour away?' _The Candidate_, ll. 41-2.

[1140:1] The ancient little Wits wrote many poems in the shape of Eggs, Altars, and Axes. (_MS. Note by S. T. C._)

[1140:2] The title of the volume is 'Sonnets and Odes, by Henry Francis Cary. Author of an Irregular Ode to General Elliot. London 1787.'

Lines 6-9 of the Sonnet read thus:--

From him deriv'd who shun'd and spurn'd the throng And warbled sweet, thy Brooks and streams among, Lonely Valclusa! and that heir of Fame Our English Milton--

Line 14 reads:--

A grandeur, grace and spirit all their own.

The Poems were the first publication of 'Dante' Cary, then a boy of fifteen, whom Coleridge first met at Muddiford in October, 1816, and whose translation of the _Divina Commedia_ he helped to make famous.

[1141:1] The three Sonnets of Bowles are not in any Edition since the last quarto pamphlet of his Sonnets. (_MS. Note by S. T. C._)

[1144:1] Ossian.

[1146:1] Compare _The Pursuits of Literature_, Dialogue 1, lines 50, 55, 56.

The self-supported melancholy Gray

* * * * *

With his high spirit strove the master bard, And was his own _exceeding great_ reward.

The first Dialogue was published in May 1794. The lines on Gray may have suggested Coleridge's quotation from Genesis, chap. xv, ver. 1, which is supplied in a footnote to line 56.

[1150:1] The 'Eolian Harp', with the title 'Effusion xxxv. Composed August 20, 1795, at Clevedon, Somersetshire', was first published in 1796, and included as 'Composed at Clevedon' in 1797 and 1803. It is possible that it may have been originally printed in a newspaper.

[1150:2] The fourth and last edition of the _Lyrical Ballads_ was issued in 1805.

[1151:1] The List numbers thirty, and of these not more than twenty are strictly speaking _Errata_. Of the remainder the greater number are textual corrections, emendations, and afterthoughts.

[1151:2] The allusion is to the prolonged and embittered controversy between Coleridge and his friends at Bristol, who had printed his works and advanced him various sums of money on the security of the sheets as printed and the future sale of the works when published. They were angry with him for postponing completion of these works, and keeping them out of their money, and he was naturally and reasonably indignant at the excessive sum charged for paper and printing. The fact was that they had done and intended to do him a kindness, but that in so far as it was a business transaction he suffered at their hands.

[1151:3] The title of these Iambic lines is 'Relictis Aliis Studiis Philosophiam Epicuream amplectitur'.

[1151:4] Ben Jonson, vide _ante_, p. 1118.

[1151:5] Vide _ante_, pp. 419, 420.

[1169:1] See Wordsworth's _P. W._ 1896, in. 21: _The Small Celandine_, ll. 21, 22.

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX

No. I

POEMS FIRST PUBLISHED IN NEWSPAPERS OR PERIODICALS

_The Cambridge Intelligencer._

Lines written at the King's Arms, Ross, formerly the House of the Man of Ross Sept. 27, 1794 Absence Oct. 11, 1794 Sonnet [Anna and Harland] Oct. 25, 1794 Sonnet [Genevieve] Nov. 1, 1794 To a Young Man of Fortune, &c. Dec. 17, 1796 Ode for the Last Day of the Year, 1796 Dec. 31, 1796 Parliamentary Oscillators Jan. 6, 1798

_The Morning Chronicle._

To Fortune Nov. 7, 1793 Elegy [Elegy imitated from Akenside] Sept. 23, 1794 Epitaph on an Infant. 'Ere sin could blight', &c. Sept. 23, 1794

_Sonnets on Eminent Characters._ I. To the Honourable Mr. Erskine Dec. 1, 1794 II. Burke Dec. 9, 1794 III. Priestley Dec. 11, 1794 IV. La Fayette Dec. 15, 1794 V. Kosciusko Dec. 16, 1794 VI. Pitt Dec. 23, 1794 VII. To the Rev. W. L. Bowles Dec. 26, 1794 VIII. Mrs. Siddons Dec. 29, 1794 IX. To William Godwin Jan. 10, 1795 X. To Robert Southey Jan. 14, 1795 XI. To Richard Brinsley Sheridan, Esq. Jan. 29, 1795

To Lord Stanhope Jan. 31, 1795 Address to a Young Jack Ass and its tethered Mother, In Familiar Verse Dec. 30, 1794

_The Watchman._

No. 1. To a Young Lady with a Poem on the French Revolution Mar. 1, 1796 No. 2. Casimir. Ad Lyram. Imitation. 'The solemn-breathing air', &c. Mar. 9, 1796 No. 3. Elegy. 'Near the lone Pile', &c. Mar. 17, 1796 The Hour when we shall meet again. 'Dim hour', &c. Mar. 17, 1796 No. 4. 'The early Year's fast-flying Vapours stray' Mar. 25, 1796 A Morning Effusion. 'Ye Gales', &c. Mar. 25, 1796 No. 5. To Mercy. 'Not always should the Tears', &c. Apr. 2, 1796 Recollection. 'As the tir'd savage', &c. Apr. 2, 1796 No. 6. Lines on Observing a Blossom on the First of February, 1796. 'Sweet Flower that peeping', &c. Apr. 11, 1796 No. 8. To a Primrose. 'Thy smiles I note', &c. Apr. 27, 1796 No. 9. Epitaph on an Infant. [Reprinted from the _Morning Chronicle_, Sept. 23, 1794.] 'Ere Sin could blight', &c. May 5, 1796

_The Monthly Magazine._

On a Late Connubial Rupture, (ii, p. 647) Sept. 1796 Reflections on Entering into Active Life, (ii, p. 732.) 'Low was our pretty Cot', &c. Oct. 1796 Sonnets attempted in the Manner of Contemporary Writers, (iv, p. 374) Nov. 1797

_The Annual Register._

Lines to a Beautiful Spring in a Village, (xxxviii, pp. 494-5) 1796 Tranquillity, An Ode. (xliii, pp. 525-6) 1801 Stanzas Addressed to a Lady on Her Recovery from a severe attack of Pain. (The Two Founts.) (lxix, pp. 537-8) 1827

_The Morning Post._

To an Unfortunate Woman in the Back Seats of the Boxes at the Theatre. 'Maiden that with sullen brow' Dec. 7, 1797 Melancholy: A Fragment Dec. 12, 1797 Fire, Famine, and Slaughter: A War Eclogue Jan. 8, 1798 The Old Man of the Alps. Mar. 8, 1798 The Raven Mar. 10, 1798 Lines Imitated from Catullus. 'My Lesbia', &c. Apr. 11, 1798 Lewti, or the Circassian Love Chaunt Apr. 13, 1798 The Recantation: An Ode Apr. 16, 1798 Moriens Superstiti. 'The hour-bell sounds', &c. May 10, 1798 A Tale. [Recantation. Illustrated in the Story of the Mad Ox] July 30, 1798 The British Stripling's War-Song Aug. 24, 1799 The Devil's Thoughts Sept. 6, 1799 Lines written in the Album at Elbingerode Sept. 17, 1799 Lines Composed in a Concert Room Sept. 24, 1799 To a Young Lady. 'Why need I say', &c. Dec. 9, 1799 Introduction to the Tale of the Dark Ladié Dec. 21, 1799 Ode to Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire Dec. 24, 1799 A Christmas Carol Dec. 25, 1799 Talleyrand to Lord Granville Jan. 10, 1800 The Mad Monk Oct. 13, 1800 Inscription for a Seat by the Road-side, &c. Oct. 21, 1800 Alcaeus to Sappho Nov. 24, 1800 The Two Round Spaces: A Skeltoniad Dec. 4, 1800 On Revisiting the Sea Shore Sept. 15, 1801 Tranquillity, An Ode Dec. 4, 1801 The Picture, or The Lover's Resolution Sept. 6, 1802 Chamouni. The Hour before Sunrise. A Hymn Sept. 11, 1802 The Keepsake Sept. 17, 1802 How seldom Friend, &c. [The Good Great Man] Sept. 23, 1802 Inscription on a Jutting Stone over a Spring Sept. 24, 1802 Dejection: An Ode Oct. 4, 1802 Ode to the Rain Oct. 7, 1802 France: An Ode Oct. 14, 1802 The Language of Birds. 'Do you ask, what the Birds say?' &c. Oct. 16, 1802 The Day-dream. From an Emigrant to his Absent Wife Oct. 19, 1802

_The Courier._

The Exchange of Hearts Apr. 16, 1804 Lines on a King-and-Emperor-making Emperor and King (Adaptation) Sept. 12, 1806 Farewell to Love. [_Morning Herald_, Oct. 11, 1806] Sept. 27, 1806 To Two Sisters Dec. 10, 1807 Epitaph on an Infant. 'Its milky lips', &c. Mar. 20, 1811 The Hour Glass (Adaptation) Aug. 30, 1811 The Virgin's Cradle Hymn Aug. 30, 1811 Mutual Passion (Adaptation) Sept. 21, 1811

_The Friend._

[Ode to Tranquillity] No. 1, June 1, 1809 The Three Graves, A Sexton's Tale No. 6, Sept. 21, 1809 Hymn. _Before Sun-rise, in the Vale of Chamouny_ No. 11, Oct. 26, 1809 Tis True, IDOLOCLASTES SATYRANE No. 14, Nov. 23, 1809

_The Gentleman's Magazine._

Farewell to Love. (lxxxv, p. 448) 1815 Overlooked Poem by Coleridge. The Volunteer Stripling. (xxix, p. 160, N. S.) 1848

_Felix Farley's Bristol Journal._

Fancy in Nubibus, or The Poet in the Clouds Feb. 7, 1818 Written on a Blank Leaf of Faulkner's Shipwreck, presented by a friend to Miss K Feb. 21, 1818

_Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine._

Fancy in Nubibus. (Vol. vi, p. 196) Nov. 1819 The poet in his lone, &c. [Apologia, &c.] (Vol. xi, p. 12) Jan. 1822 The Old Man's Sigh: A Sonnet. (Vol. xxxi, p. 956) June, 1832

_Co-operative Magazine and Monthly Herald._

On the Prospect of Establishing a Pantisocracy in America Apr. 6, 1826

_Literary Magnet._

An Impromptu on Christmas Day, &c. N. S., Vol. iii, 1827, p. 71

_The Evening Standard._

Sancti Dominici Pallium May 21, 1827

_The Crypt, a Receptacle for Things Past._

Job's Luck 1827, pp. 30, 31

_The Literary Souvenir._

The Exchange 1826, p. 408 Lines Suggested by the Last Words of Berengarius 1827, p. 17 [Epitaphium Testamentarium] 1827, p. 17 Youth and Age 1828, p. 1 What is Life? 1829, p. 346

_The Bijou, 1828._

The Wanderings of Cain. A Fragment p. 17 Work without Hope 28 Youth and Age 144 A Day Dream. 'My eyes make pictures' 146 The Two Founts 202

_The Amulet._

New Thoughts on Old Subjects. The Improvisatore 1828, pp. 37-47 Three Scraps 1833, pp. 31, 32 (i) Love's Burial Place. (ii) The Butterfly. (iii) A Thought suggested by a View of Saddleback in Cumberland.

_New York Mirror._

Lines written in Miss Barbour's Common Place Book Dec. 19, 1829

_The Keepsake._

The Garden of Boccaccio 1829, p. 282 Song, Ex Improviso, &c. 1830, p. 264 The Poet's Answer to a Lady's Question, &c. 'O'er wayward Childhood', &c. 1830, p. 279

_The Athenæum._

Water Ballad Oct. 29, 1831

_Friendship's Offering, 1834._

PAGE My Baptismal Birthday 163 Fragments from the Wreck of Memory, &c.-- I. Hymn to the Earth 165 II. English Hexameters, written during a temporary Blindness, in the Year 1799 167 III. The Homeric Hexameter, &c. 168 IV. The Ovidian Elegiac Metre, &c. 168 V. A Versified Reflection. 'On stern BLENCARTHUR'S', &c. 168 Love's Apparition and Evanishment 355 Lightheartednesses in Rhyme-- I. The Reproof and Reply 356 II. In Answer to a Friend's Question. 'Her attachment may differ', &c. 359 III. Lines to a Comic Author, on an abusive Review 359 IV. An Expectoration, &c. 'As I am (_sic_) Rhymer', &c. 360 Expectoration the Second. 'In COLN, a town of monks and bones' 360

_The New Monthly Magazine._

The Faded Flower Aug. 1836

_Dublin University Magazine._

A Stranger Minstrel 1845, xxvi, 112-13

No. II

EPIGRAMS AND JEUX D'ESPRIT FIRST PUBLISHED IN NEWSPAPERS AND PERIODICALS

1. An Apology for Spencers. _Watchman_, No. 4, Mar. 25, 1796. 2. On a Late Marriage between an Old Maid, &c. Ibid., No. 5, April 2, 1796. 3. On an Amorous Doctor. Ibid., ibid. 4. 'Of smart pretty Fellows', &c. Ibid., p. 159. 5. On Deputy ----. _M. P._, Jan. 2, 1798. 6. To a Well-known Musical Critic, &c. _M. P._, Jan. 4, 1798. 7. Hippona. _M. P._, Aug. 29, 1799. 8. On a Reader of His Own Verses. _M. P._, Sept. 7, 1799. 9. On a Report of a Minister's Death. 'Last Monday', &c. _M. P._, Sept. 18, 1799. 10. 'Jem writes his Verses', &c. _M. P._, Sept. 23, 1799. 11. On Sir Rubicund Naso. _M. P._, Dec. 7, 1799. 12. Job's Luck, 1799. _M. P._, Sept. 26, 1801. 13. On the Sickness of a Great Minister. _M. P._, Oct. 1, 1799. 14. To a Virtuous Oeconomist. _M. P._, Oct. 28, 1799. 15. 'Jack drinks fine wines', &c. _M. P._, Nov. 16, 1799. 16. To Mr. Pye. _M. P._, Jan. 24, 1800. 17. 'If the guilt of all lying', &c. _An. Anth._, 1800. 18. 'O would the Baptist', &c. _An. Anth._, 1800. 19. Occasioned by the Former. 'I hold of all', &c. _An. Anth._, 1800. 20. 'As Dick and I at Charing Cross', &c. _An. Anth._, 1800. 21. To a Proud Parent. _An. Anth._, 1800. 22. Rufa. _An. Anth._, 1800. 23. On a Volunteer Singer. _An. Anth._, 1800. 24. Occasioned by the Last. 'A joke (cries Jack)', &c. _An. Anth._, 1800. 25. Song to be Sung by the Lovers of all the Noble Liquors, &c. _M. P._, Sept. 18, 1801. 26. Epitaph on a Bad Man. _M. P._, Sept. 22, 1801. 27. Drinking _versus_ Thinking. _M. P._, Sept. 25, 1801. 28. The Wills of the Wisp. _M. P._, Dec. 1, 1801. 29. To a Certain Modern Narcissus. _M. P._, Dec. 16, 1801. 30. To a Critic. _M. P._, Dec. 16, 1801. 31. Always Audible. _M. P._, Dec. 19, 1801. 32. Pondere non Numero. _M. P._, Dec. 26, 1801. 33. 'To Wed a fool'. _M. P._, Dec. 26, 1801. 34. What is an Epigram? _M. P._, Sept. 23, 1802. 35. 'Charles, grave or merry', &c. Sept. 23, 1802. 36. 'An Evil Spirit's on thee, friend '. _M. P._, Sept. 23, 1802. 37. 'Here lies the Devil', &c. _M. P._, Sept. 23, 1802. 38. To One who Published in Print. _M. P._, Sept. 23, 1802. 39. 'Scarce any scandal', &c. _M. P._, Sept. 23, 1802. 40. 'Old Harpy jeers', &c. _M. P._, Sept. 23, 1802. 41. To a Vain Young Lady. _M. P._, Sept. 23, 1802. 42. A Hint to Premiers and First Consuls. _M. P._, Sept. 27, 1802. 43. 'From me, Aurelia', &c. _M. P._, Oct. 2, 1802. 44. For a House-dog's Collar. _M. P._, Oct. 2, 1802. 45. 'In vain I praise thee', &c. _M. P._, Oct. 2, 1802. 46. Epitaph on a Mercenary Miser. _M. P._, Oct. 9, 1802. 47. A Dialogue between an Author and his Friend. _M. P._, Oct. 11, 1802. 48. +Môrosophia+ or Wisdom in Folly. _M. P._, Oct. 11, 1802. 49. 'Each Bond-street buck', &c. _M. P._, Oct. 11, 1802. 50. From an old German Poet. _M. P._, Oct. 11, 1802. 51. On the Curious Circumstance, that in the German, &c. _M. P._, Oct. 11, 1802. 52. Spots in the Sun. _M. P._, Oct. 11, 1802. 53. 'When Surface talks', &c. _M. P._, Oct. 11, 1802. 54. To my Candle. The Farewell Epigram. _M. P._, Oct. 11, 1802. 55. The Taste of the Times. _Athenæum_, Jan. 9, 1904. 56. 'An Excellent Adage', &c. _The Friend_, No. 12, Nov. 9, 1809. 57. Epigram on the Secrecy of a Certain Lady. _The Courier_, Jan. 3, 1814. 58. To a Lady who requested me to write a Poem on Nothing. _Gazette of Fashion_, Feb. 2, 1822. 59. Authors and Publishers. _News of Literature_, Dec. 10, 1825. 60. Association of Ideas. _Fraser's Magazine_, Jan. 1835. 61. To a Child. 'Little Miss Fanny'. _Athenæum_, Jan. 28, 1888.

No. III

POEMS INCLUDED IN ANTHOLOGIES AND OTHER WORKS

PAGE 1. _Poems, supposed to have been written..._ By Thomas Rowley,... 1794. Monody on the Death of Chatterton xxv

2. _Poems by Francis Wrangham, M.A._, 1795. Translation of Hendecasyllabi ad Bruntonam, &c. 79 To Miss Brunton with the Preceding Translation.

3. _Poems on the Death of Priscilla Farmer._ By her grandson Charles Lloyd, 1796. Sonnet. 'The Piteous sobs', &c.

4. _Lyrical Ballads_, 1798. The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere 1 The Foster Mother's Tale 53 The Nightingale 63 The Dungeon 139

5. _Lyrical Ballads_ (in two volumes), 1800. Vol. I. Love [with the four poems published in 1798] 138

6. _Annual Anthology_, 1800. *Lewti, or The Circassian Love-Chant 23 *To a Young Lady, on her first Appearance after a Dangerous Illness. 32 *Recantation, Illustrated in the Story of the Mad Ox 59 *Lines Written in the Album at Elbingerode, in the Hartz Forest 74 *A Christmas Carol 79 To a Friend, who had declared his intention of writing no more Poetry 103 This Lime-Tree Bower my Prison. A Poem, addressed to CHARLES LAMB, of the India House, London 140 To W. L. Esq. while he sung a Song to Purcell's Music. 156 *The British Stripling's War-Song 173 Something childish, but very natural. Written in Germany 192 Home-Sick. Written in Germany 193 *Ode to GEORGIANA, Dutchess of Devonshire 212 *Fire, Famine, and Slaughter. A War Eclogue 231 *The Raven 240 *To an unfortunate Woman. 'Sufferer, that with sullen brow' 291

[_Note._ Poems marked with an asterisk were reprinted from the _Morning Post_.]

7. _Memoirs of the late Mrs. Robinson_, &c. Four volumes, 1801. A Stranger Minstrel Vol. iv, p. 141

8. _Melmoth's Beauties of British Poets_, 1801. To a Young Ass 21 To a Spring in a beautiful Village 119 The Sigh 167 The Kiss 201

9. _The Wild Wreath._ Edited by M. E. Robinson, 1804. The Mad Monk 142

10. _The Poetical Register and Repository of the Fine Arts._

Vol. II. For 1802 (1803).

*Chamouny. The Hour before Sunrise. A Hymn 308 *Inscription on a Jutting Stone over a Spring 338 *The Picture; or, The Lover's Resolution 354

Vol. III. For 1803 (1805).

From the German of Leasing. 'I ask'd my fair', &c. [Signed 'Harley Philadelphia'.] 274 Sonnets, Attempted in the Manner of 'Contemporary Writers' 346

Vol. IV. For 1804 (1805).

The Exchange.

Vol. VI. For 1806, 1807 (1811).

On a Late Connubial Rupture in High Life 365

Vol. VII. For 1808, 1809 (1812).

Fears in Solitude. By S. T. Coleridge, Esq. 227 France, An Ode. By S. T. Coleridge, Esq. 332 Frost at Midnight. By S. T. Coleridge Esq. 530

[_Note._ Sonnets Attempted, &c., in Vol. III, and On a Late, &c., in Vol. VI, were reprinted from the _Monthly Magazine_: the three poems in Vol. VII were reprinted from the quarto pamphlet of 1798, and were again set up as a small octavo pamphlet by Law & Gilbert, the printers of the _Poetical Register_. Vide Bibliography, No. X.]

11. _Selection of Poems for Young Persons_, by J. Cottle. Third edition, n. d. Epitaph on an Infant 129 Sonnet to the River Otter 155 Domestic Peace 157

12. _English Minstrelsy_; being a Selection of Fugitive Poetry from the Best English Authors. Two volumes, 1810.

Vol. II.

Fragment. S. T. Coleridge ['Introduction to the Tale of the dark Ladie' as published in the Morning Post] 131

13. _Poetical Class-Book._ Edited by W. F. Mylius, 1810. This Lime Tree Bower my Prison.

14. _Nugæ Canoræ_. Poems by Charles Lloyd, 1819. Sonnet. 'The piteous sobs ', &c. 145

15. _The British Minstrel._ Glasgow, 1821. The Three Graves

16. _Castle Dangerous._ By Sir W. Scott, 1832. Notes by J. G. Lockhart. Galignani, 1834. The Knight's Tomb. 'Where is the grave', &c. 10

17. _A History of . . . Christ's Hospital._ By the Rev. W. Trollope, 1834. Julia 192

18. _Letters, Conversations_, &c., of S. T. Coleridge. In two volumes, 1836.

Vol. I.

Farewell to Love 143 To Nature. 144 Sonnet. To Lord Stanhope 217

Vol II.

'What boots to tell how o'er his grave' 75

19. _Early Recollections_, &c. By Joseph Cottle, 1837.

Vol. I.

Monody on . . . Chatterton, ll. 137-54 32 To W. J. H. While playing on his flute 33 The Fox and Statesman, &c. 172 Sonnet. To Lord Stanhope 203 Written After a Walk Before Supper 209 To an unfortunate Young Woman, Whom I had known in the days of her Innocence. 'Maiden! that with sullen brow'. 213 Allegorical Lines on the same subject. 'Myrtle Leaf, that ill besped' 214 On an Unfortunate Woman at the Theatre 216 On an Unfortunate, &c. 217 EXAMPLES. 'O what a life', &c. 226 Another Specimen, describing Hexameters, &c. 226 Another Specimen. 'In the Hexameter', &c. 227 The English Duodecasyllable. 'Hear my beloved', &c. 227 Foster-Mother's Tale 235 To a Friend, [Charles Lloyd (_sic_)] who had declared his intention, &c., ll. 17-35 245 Lines Addressed to Joseph Cottle 283 'As oft mine eye', &c. [The Silver Thimble] 236 Sonnets, Attempted in the Manner of Contemporary Writers 290 To the Author of the Ancient Mariner 293

Vol. II.

Five 'Epigrams, translated . . . from the German' 65-6 My Love. 'I ask'd my love', &c. 67 _Joan of Arc_, Book the Second. 4{o}, 1796 (including the lines claimed by S. T. C.) 241-52

20. _The Book of Gems._ Edited by S. C. Hall, 1838.

The Garden of Boccaccio 51 Love 52 The Nightingale 53 Lines written in the Album at Elbingerode, &c. 58 Recollections of Love 59

21. _Memoirs of William Wordsworth._ In two volumes, 1851.

Vol. I.

English Hexameters. 'William, my teacher', &c. 139

22. _An Old Man's Diary._ By J. Payne Collier, 1871, 2.

My Godmother's Beard Part I, pp. 34, 35. Epigram. 'A very old proverb commands', &c. Epitaph on Sir James Mackintosh. [The Two Round Spaces on the Tombstone] Part I, pp. 61, 62. A Character. 'A Bird who for his other sins' (15 lines) Part IV, p. 57.

23. _Unpublished letters from Samuel Taylor Coleridge to the Rev. John Prior Estlin_: Communicated to the Philobiblon Society.

To An Unfortunate Princess. [On a Late Connubial, &c.] 20 Lines Addressed to J. Horne Tooke. 'Britons! when last', &c. 22

24. _Letters from the Lake Poets. . . To Daniel Stuart_, 1889.

Alcaeus to Sappho 16

25. _Memorials of Coleorton._ Edited by W. Knight. Two vols., 1887.

Vol. I.

Mont Blanc, The Summit of the Vale of Chamouny, An Hour before Sunrise--A Hymn. [As sent to Sir George Beaumont.] 26 To WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Composed for the greater part on the same night after the finishing of his recitation of the Poem in thirteen Books, on the Growth of his own Mind. [As sent to Sir G. Beaumont, Jan. 1807.]

26. _Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics._ Edited by F. T. Palgrave 1896.

Love 199 Kubla Khan 308 Youth and Age 323

No. IV

POEMS FIRST PRINTED OR REPRINTED IN _Literary Remains_, 1836.

Vol. I.

The Fall or Robespierre 1 Julia 33 '--I yet remain' (By W. L. Bowles) 34 To the Rev W. J. Hort 35 To Charles Lamb ('Thus far my scanty brain', &c.) 36 To the Nightingale 38 To Sara ('The stream', &c.) 39 To Joseph Cottle 40 Casimir ('The solemn-breathing air', &c.) 41 Darwiniana ('Dim Hour', &c.) 43 'The Early Year's fast-flying', &c. [Ver perpetuum]. 44 To a Primrose 47 On the Christening of a Friend's Child 48 Inscription by the Rev. W. L. Bowles, &c. 50 Translation 50 Introduction to the Tale of the Dark Ladie 50 Epilogue to the Rash Conjuror 52 Psyche 53 Complaint ('How seldom Friend', &c.) 53 An Ode to the Rain 54 Translation of a Passage in Ottfried's . . . Paraphrase of the Gospels 56 Israel's Lament, &c. 57 Sentimental 59 The Alternative 59 The Exchange 59 What is Life! 60 Inscription for a Time-Piece 60 +Epitaphion autograpton+ 60

POEMS AND POETICAL FRAGMENTS.

'My Lesbia', &c. 274 'Pity, mourn in plaintive tones' 274 Moriens superstiti 275 Morienti superstes 275 The Stripling's War Song. Imitated from Stolberg 276 Eighteen Fragments from Note book (1795-8) 277-81 'I mix in life, and labour to seem free.' [To ----] 280 Farewell to Love 280 'Within these circling hollies', &c. [An Angel Visitant] 280 Grant me a Patron 281

POEMS FIRST PRINTED OR REPRINTED IN _Essays on His Own Times_, 1850.

Vol. III.

Recantation. Illustrated in the story of the Mad Ox 963 Parliamentary Oscillators 969 The Devil's Thoughts 972 The British Stripling's War Song 988 Tranquillity. An Ode 991 The Day Dream. _From an Emigrant to his absent Wife_ 993 Mutual Passion 995 The Alienated Mistress ('If love be dead', &c.) 997 To a lady (''Tis not the lily', &c.) 997 A Thought suggested by the View of Saddleback, &c. 997 L'Envoy to 'Like a Lone Arab' ('In vain we', &c.) 998

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

PAGE A bird, who for his other sins 451 A blesséd lot hath he, who having passed 173 A green and silent spot, amid the hills 256 'A heavy wit shall hang at every lord' 973 A joke (cries Jack) without a sting 961 A little further, O my father 288 A long deep lane 992 A lovely form there sate beside my bed 484 A low dead Thunder mutter'd thro' the night 1005 A Lutheran stout, I hold for Goose-and-Gaundry 975 A maniac in the woods 993 A mount, not wearisome and bare and steep 155 A poor benighted Pedlar knock'd 967 A sumptuous and magnificent Revenge 1000 A sunny shaft did I behold 426, 919 A sworded man whose trade is blood 397 A wind that with Aurora hath abiding 1011 Ah! cease thy tears and sobs, my little Life 91 Ah! not by Cam or Isis, famous streams 424 All are not born to soar--and ah! how few 26 All look and likeness caught from earth 393 All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair 447, 1111 All thoughts, all passions, all delights 330 Almost awake? Why, what is this, and whence 211 An evil spirit's on thee, friend! of late! 964 An excellent adage commands that we should 971 An Ox, long fed with musty hay 299 And arrows steeled with wrath 994 And cauldrons the scoop'd earth, a boiling sea 989 And in Life's noisiest hour 1002 And my heart mantles in its own delight 1002 And Pity's sigh shall answer thy tale of Anguish 990 And re-implace God's Image of the Soul 994 And this place our forefathers made for man 185 And this reft house is that the which he built 211 And with my whole heart sing the stately song 994 And write Impromptus 989 Are there two things, of all which men possess 361 As Dick and I at Charing Cross were walking 960 As I am a Rhymer 477 As late each flower that sweetest blows 45 As late I journey'd o'er the extensive plain 11 As late I lay in Slumber's shadowy vale 80 As late, in wreaths, gay flowers I bound 33 As late on Skiddaw's mount I lay supine 350 As long as ere the life-blood's running 961 As oft mine eye with careless glance 104 As some vast Tropic tree, itself a wood 1001 As the shy hind, the soft-eyed gentle Brute 1013 As the tir'd savage, who his drowsy frame 1023 As when a child on some long Winter's night 85 As when far off the warbled strains are heard 82 As when the new or full Moon urges 1005 At midnight by the stream I roved 253 Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song 131, 1024 Away, those cloudy looks, that labouring sigh 90

Be proud as Spaniards! Leap for pride ye Fleas! 980 'Be, rather than be called, a child of God' 312 Behind the thin Grey cloud 992 Behold yon row of pines, that shorn and bow'd 1006 Beneath the blaze of a tropical sun 396 Beneath this stone does William Hazlitt lie 962 Beneath this thorn when I was young 269 Beneath yon birch with silver bark 293 Benign shooting stars, ecstatic delight 1015 Bob now resolves on marriage schemes to trample 953 Bright cloud of reverence, sufferably bright 998 Britannia's boast, her glory and her pride 970 Britons! when last ye met, with distant streak 150 Broad-breasted Pollards, with broad-branching heads 992 Broad-breasted rook-hanging cliff that glasses 988 By many a booby's vengeance bit 953

Charles, grave or merry, at no lie would stick 964 Charles! my slow heart was only sad, when first 154 Child of my muse! in Barbour's gentle hand 483 Come, come thou bleak December wind 1001 Come hither, gently rowing 311 Come; your opinion of my manuscript 967 Cupid, if storying Legends tell aright 46

Dear Charles! whilst yet thou wert a babe, I ween 158 Dear native Brook! wild Streamlet of the West 48 Dear tho' unseen! tho' I have left behind 468 Deep in the gulph of Vice and Woe 12 Depart in joy from this world's noise and strife 177 Didst thou think less of thy dear self 965 Dim Hour! that sleep'st on pillowing clouds afar 96 Discontent mild as an infant 991 Do call, dear Jess, whene'er my way you come 962 Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove 386 Dormi, Jesu! Mater ridet 417 Due to the Staggerers, that made drunk by Power 989

Each Bond-street buck conceits, unhappy elf 968 Each crime that once estranges from the virtues 1011 Earth! thou mother of numberless children, the nurse and the mother 327 Edmund! thy grave with aching eye I scan 76 Encinctured with a twine of leaves 287 Ere on my bed my limbs I lay (1803) 389 Ere on my bed my limbs I lay (1806) 401 Ere Sin could blight or Sorrow fade 68 Ere the birth of my life, if I wished it or no 419 Eu! Dei vices gerens, ipse Divus 981

Farewell, parental scenes! a sad farewell 29 Farewell, sweet Love! yet blame you not my truth 402 Fear no more, thou timid Flower 356 'Fie, Mr. Coleridge!--and can this be you? 441 Flowers are lovely, Love is flower-like 1085, 1086 Fond, peevish, wedded pair! why all this rant? 984 For ever in the world of Fame 1013 Frail creatures are we all! To be the best 486 Friend, Lover, Husband, Sister, Brother 392 Friend of the wise! and Teacher of the Good 403 Friend pure of heart and fervent! we have learnt 1008 Friends should be _weigh'd_, not _told_; who boasts to have won 963 From his brimstone bed at break of day 319 From me, Aurelia! you desired 966 From Rufa's eye sly Cupid shot his dart 952 From yonder tomb of recent date 955

Gently I took that which ungently came 488 +Gnôthi seauton!+--and is this the prime 487 Go little Pipe! for ever I must leave thee 1016 God be with thee, gladsome Ocean 359 G[=o]d [)i]s o[)u]r Str[=e]ngth [)a]nd o[)u]r R[=e]f[)u]ge 326 God no distance knows 989 God's child in Christ adopted,--Christ my all 490 God's Image, Sister of the Cherubim 994 Good Candle, thou that with thy brother, Fire 969 Good verse most good, and bad verse then seems better 96 Grant me a Patron, gracious Heaven! whene'er 995 Great goddesses are they to lazy folks 1008

Hail! festal Easter that dost bring 1 Hast thou a charm to stay the morning-star 376, 1074 He too has flitted from his secret nest 457 Hear, my belovéd, an old Milesian story 307 Hear, sweet Spirit, hear the spell 420, 552, 849 Heard'st thou yon universal cry 10 Hence, soul-dissolving Harmony 28 Hence that fantastic wantonness of woe 157 Hence! thou fiend of gloomy sway 34 Her attachment may differ from yours in degree 484 Here's Jem's first copy of nonsense verses 983 Here lies a Poet; or what once was he 1089 Here lies the Devil--ask no other name 964 Here sleeps at length, poor Col., and without screaming 970 High o'er the rocks at night I rov'd 1050, 1051 High o'er the silver rocks I rov'd 1049 Hippona lets no silly flush 955 His native accents to her stranger's ear 1011 His own fair countenance, his kingly forehead 1005 Hoarse Maevius reads his hobbling verse 955 How long will ye round me be swelling 39 How seldom, friend! a good great man inherits 381 'How sweet, when crimson colours dart 353 How warm this woodland wild Recess 409 Hush! ye clamorous Cares! be mute 92

I ask'd my fair one happy day 318 I fancy whenever I spy Nosy 953 I from the influence of thy Looks receive 999 I have experienced the worst the world can wreak on me 1004 I have heard of reasons manifold 418 I heard a voice from Etna's side 347 I heard a voice pealing loud triumph to-day 1014 I hold of all our viperous race 959 I know it is dark; and though I have lain 382 I know 'tis but a dream, yet feel more anguish 998 I love, and he loves me again 1118 I mix in life, and labour to seem free 292 I never saw the man whom you describe 182 I note the moods and feelings men betray 448 I sigh, fair injur'd stranger! for thy fate 152 I stand alone, nor tho' my heart should break 1010 I stood on Brocken's sovran height, and saw 315 I too a sister had! too cruel Death 21 I touch this scar upon my skull behind 984 I wish on earth to sing 1017 I yet remain To mourn 1124 If dead, we cease to be; if total gloom 425 If fair by Nature 1012 If I had but two little wings 313 If Love be dead 475 If Pegasus will let _thee_ only ride him 21 If the guilt of all lying consists in deceit 954 If thou wert here, these tears were tears of light 386 If while my passion I impart 58 Imagination, honourable aims 396 Imagination, Mistress of my Love 49 In a cave in the mountains of Cashmeer 993 In darkness I remain'd--the neighbour's clock 990 In Köhln, a town of monks and bones 477 In many ways does the full heart reveal 462 In Spain, that land of Monks and Apes 974 In the corner _one_ 1012 In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column 308 In this world we dwell among the tombs 991 In vain I praise thee, Zoilus 966 In vain I supplicate the Powers above 1087 In Xanadu did Kubla Khan 297 It is an ancient Mariner 187 It is an ancyent Marinere 1030 It may indeed be phantasy, when I 429 It was some Spirit, Sheridan! that breath'd 87 Its balmy lips the infant blest 417

Jack drinks fine wines, wears modish clothing 958 Jack finding gold left a rope on the ground 971 Jack Snipe 982 Jem writes his verses with more speed 956 Julia was blest with beauty, wit, and grace 6

Kayser! to whom, as to a second self 490 Know thou who walk'st by, Man! that wrapp'd up in lead, man 961 Know'st thou the land where the pale citrons grow 311

Lady, to Death we're doom'd, our crime the same 392 Last Monday all the Papers said 956 Leanness, disquietude, and secret Pangs 990 Lest after this life it should prove my sad story 1090 Let clumps of earth, however glorified 1008 Let Eagle bid the Tortoise sunward soar 1001 Let those whose low delights to Earth are given 427 Light cargoes waft of modulated Sound 988 Like a lone Arab, old and blind 488 Like a mighty Giantess 991 Little Miss Fanny 987 Lo! through the dusky silence of the groves 33 Lov'd the same Love, and hated the same hate 994 Lovely gems of radiance meek 17 Low was our pretty Cot! our tallest Rose 106 Lunatic Witch-fires! Ghosts of Light and Motion! 979

Maid of my Love, sweet Genevieve 19 Maid of unboastful charms! whom white-robed Truth 66 Maiden, that with sullen brow 171 Mark this holy chapel well 309 Matilda! I have heard a sweet tune played 374 Mild Splendour of the various-vested Night 5 Money, I've heard a wise man say 972 Most candid critic, what if I 962 Mourn, Israel! Sons of Israel, mourn 433 Much on my early youth I love to dwell 64 My dearest Dawtie 984 My eyes make pictures, when they are shut 385 My father confessor is strict and holy 969 My heart has thanked thee, Bowles! for those soft strains 84, 85 My heart seraglios a whole host of Joys 990 My Lesbia, let us love and live 60 My Lord! though your Lordship repel deviation 341 My Maker! of thy power the trace 423 My Merry men all, that drink with glee 979 My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclined 100, 1021 Myrtle-leaf that, ill besped 172

Names do not always meet with Love 997 Nature wrote Rascal on his face 991 Nay, dearest Anna! why so grave? 418 Near the lone pile with ivy overspread 69 Never, believe me 310 No cloud, no relique of the sunken day 264 No cold shall thee benumb 1015 No doleful faces here, no sighing 954 No more my visionary soul shall dwell 68 No more 'twixt conscience staggering and the Pope 460 No mortal spirit yet had clomb so high 1004 No private grudge they need, no personal spite 972 Nor cold, nor stern, my soul! yet I detest 824 Nor travels my meandering eye 97 Not always should the Tear's ambrosial dew 83 Not hers To win the sense by words of rhetoric 1007 Not, Stanhope! with the Patriot's doubtful name 89 Nothing speaks our mind so well 975 Now! It is gone--our brief hours travel post 974 Now prompts the Muse poetic lays 13

O ----! O ----! of you we complain 977 O beauty in a beauteous body dight 999 O! Christmas Day, Oh! happy day! 460 O fair is Love's first hope to gentle mind 443 O form'd t'illume a sunless world forlorn 86 O Friend! O Teacher! God's great Gift to me 1081 O! I do love thee, meek _Simplicity_ 210 O! it is pleasant, with a heart at ease 435 O leave the Lily on its stem 1053 O man! thou half-dead Angel! 994 O meek attendant of Sol's setting blaze 16 O mercy, O me, miserable man 1005 O Muse who sangest late another's pain 18 O Peace, that on a lilied bank dost love 94 O! Superstition is the giant shadow 1007 O th' Oppressive, irksome weight 1000 O thou wild Fancy, check thy wing! No more 51 O thron'd in Heav'n! Sole King of kings 438 O what a loud and fearful shriek was there 82 O what a wonder seems the fear of death 125 O would the Baptist come again 959 O'er the raised earth the gales of evening sigh 996 O'er wayward childhood would'st thou hold firm rule 481 O'erhung with yew, midway the Muses mount 1003 Of him that in this gorgeous tomb doth lie 961 Of late, in one of those most weary hours 478 Of one scrap of science I've evidence ocular 985 Of smart pretty Fellows in Bristol are numbers, some 952 Oft o'er my brain does that strange fancy roll 153 Oft, oft methinks, the while with thee 388 Oh! might my ill-past hours return again 7 Oh! the procrastinating idle rogue 817 Old age, 'the shape and messenger of Death' 989 Old Harpy jeers at castles in the air 965 On nothing, Fanny, shall I write? 973 On stern Blencartha's perilous height 347 On the broad mountain-top 992 On the sky with liquid openings of Blue 1109 On the tenth day of September 1084 On the wide level of a mountain's head 419 On wide or narrow scale shall Man 30 Or Wren or Linnet 1002 Once again, sweet Willow, wave thee 1018 Once could the Morn's first beams, the healthful breeze 17 Once more! sweet Stream! with slow foot wandering near 58 One kiss, dear Maid! I said and sigh'd 63 Oppress'd, confused, with grief and pain 436 Our English poets, bad and good, agree 968 Outmalic'd Calumny's imposthum'd Tongue 989 Over the broad, the shallow, rapid stream 998

Pains ventral, subventral 985 Pale Roamer through the night! thou poor Forlorn 71 Parry seeks the Polar ridge 972 Pass under Jack's window at twelve at night 963 Pensive at eve on the _hard_ world I mus'd 209 Perish warmth 989 Phidias changed marble into feet and legs 984 Pity! mourn in plaintive tone 61 Plucking flowers from the Galaxy 978 Pluto commanded death to take away 957 Poor little Foal of an oppressed race 74 Promptress of unnumber'd sighs 55

Quae linquam, aut nihil, aut nihili, aut vix sunt mea. Sordes 462 Quoth Dick to me, as once at College 414

Repeating Such verse as Bowles 977 Resembles life what once was deem'd of light 394 Richer than Miser o'er his countless hoards 57 Rush on my ear, a cataract of sound 990

Sad lot, to have no Hope! Though lowly kneeling 416 Said William to Edmund I can't guess the reason 951 Say what you will, Ingenious Youth 954 Scarce any scandal, but has a handle 965 Schiller! that hour I would have wish'd to die 72 Sea-ward, white gleaming thro' the busy scud 997 Semper Elisa! mihi tu suaveolentia donas 1010 Seraphs! around th' Eternal's seat who throng 5 She gave with joy her virgin breast 306 'She's secret as the grave, allow!' 971 Since all that beat about in Nature's range 455 Sing, impassionate Soul! of Mohammed the complicate story 1016 Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philomel 93 Sisters! sisters! who sent you here? 237 Sleep, sweet babe! my cares beguiling 417 Sly Beelzebub took all occasions 957 Smooth, shining, and deceitful as thin Ice 990 So great the charms of Mrs. Mundy 976 So Mr. Baker heart did pluck 973 Sole maid, associate sole, to me beyond 1004 Sole Positive of Night 431 Some are home-sick--some two or three 443 Some, Thelwall! to the Patriot's meed aspire 1090 Some whim or fancy pleases every eye 970 Songs of Shepherds and rustical Roundelays 1018 Southey! thy melodies steal o'er mine ear 87 Speak out, Sir! you're safe, for so ruddy your nose 958 Spirit who sweepest the wild Harp of Time 160 Splendour's fondly-fostered child 335 Stanhope! I hail, with ardent Hymn, thy name 89 Stop, Christian passer-by!--Stop, child of God 491, 1088 Stranger! whose eyes a look of pity shew 248 Stretch'd on a moulder'd Abbey's broadest wall 73 Strong spirit-bidding sounds 399 Strongly it bears us along in swelling and limitless billows 307 Such fierce vivacity as fires the eye 991 Such love as mourning Husbands have 998 Swans sing before they die--'twere no bad thing 960 Sweet flower! that peeping from thy russet stem 148 Sweet Gift! and always doth Elisa send 1009 Sweet Mercy! how my very heart has bled 93 Sweet Muse! companion of my every hour 16

Tell me, on what holy ground 71, 501 Terrible and loud 991 That darling of the Tragic Muse 67 That France has put us oft to rout 968 That Jealousy may rule a mind 484 The angel's like a flea 1009 The body, Eternal Shadow of the finite Soul 1001 The Brook runs over sea-weeds 992 The builder left one narrow rent 1003 The butterfly the ancient Grecians made 412 The cloud doth gather, the greenwood roar 653 The Devil believes that the Lord will come 353 The dubious light sad glimmers o'er the sky 36 The dust flies smothering, as on clatt'ring wheel 56 The early Year's fast-flying vapours stray 148 The fervid Sun had more than halv'd the day 24 The Fox, and Statesman subtile wiles ensure 1089 The Frost performs its secret ministry 240 The grapes upon the Vicar's wall 276 The guilty pomp, consuming while it flares 990 The hour-bell sounds, and I must go 61 The indignant Bard composed this furious ode 27 The mild despairing of a Heart resigned 991 The Moon, how definite its orb 997 The piteous sobs that choke the Virgin's breath 155 The Pleasures sport beneath the thatch 997 The poet in his lone yet genial hour 345 The reed roof'd village still bepatch'd with snow 1002 The rose that blushes like the morn 973 The shepherds went their hasty way 338 The silence of a City, how awful at Midnight 999 The singing Kettle and the purring Cat 1003 The sole true Something--This! In Limbo's Den 429 The solemn-breathing air is ended 59 The spruce and limber yellow-hammer 1002 The stars that wont to start, as on a chace 486 The stream with languid murmur creeps 38 The subtle snow 993 The Sun (for now his orb 'gan slowly sink) 990 'The Sun is not yet risen 469 The Sun with gentle beams his rage disguises 1010 The sunshine lies on the cottage-wall 993 The swallows Interweaving there 992 The tear which mourn'd a brother's fate scarce dry 20 The tedded hay, the first fruits of the soil 345 The tongue can't speak when the mouth is cramm'd with earth 994 Then Jerome did call 1019 There are, I am told, who sharply criticise 816 There are two births, the one when Light 362 There comes from old Avaro's grave 954 There in some darksome shade 1018 Thicker than rain-drops on November thorn 1010 This be the meed, that thy song creates a thousand-fold echo 391 This day among the faithful plac'd 176 This, Hannah Scollock! may have been the case 981 This is now--this was erst 22 This is the time, when most divine to hear 108 This Sycamore, oft musical with bees 381 This way or that, ye Powers above me 974 This yearning heart (Love! witness what I say) 362 Thou bleedest, my poor Heart! and thy distress 72 Thou gentle Look, that didst my soul beguile 47 Thou who in youthful vigour rich, and light 349 Though friendships differ endless _in degree_ 1012 Tho' Miss ----'s match is a subject of mirth 952 Tho' much averse, dear Jack, to flicker 37 Tho' no bold flights to thee belong 9 Though rous'd by that dark Vizir Riot rude 81 Though veiled in spires of myrtle-wreath 450 Three truths should make thee often think and pause 966 Through weeds and thorns, and matted underwood 369 Thus far my scanty brain hath built the rhyme 78 Thus she said, and all around 1015 Thy babes ne'er greet thee with the father's name 960 Thy lap-dog, Rufa, is a dainty beast 960 Thy smiles I note, sweet early Flower 149 Thy stern and sullen eye, and thy dark brow 994 'Tis hard on Bagshot Heath to try 26 'Tis mine and it is likewise yours 997 'Tis not the lily-brow I prize 483 'Tis sweet to him who all the week 314 'Tis the middle of night by the castle clock 215 'Tis true, Idoloclastes Satyrane 413 To be ruled like a Frenchman the Briton is both 953 To know, to esteem, to love,--and then to part 410 To praise men as good, and to take them for such 486 To tempt the dangerous deep, too venturous youth 2 To wed a fool, I really cannot see 963 Tom Hill, who laughs at Cares and Woes 974 Tom Slothful talks, as slothful Tom beseems 967 Tranquillity! thou better name 360 Tr[=o]ch[)e]e tr[=i]ps fr[)o]m long t[)o] sh[=o]rt 401 Truth I pursued, as Fancy sketch'd the way 1008 'Twas my last waking thought, how it could be 454 'Twas not a mist, nor was it quite a cloud 1000 'Twas sweet to know it only possible 992 Two things hast thou made known to half the nation 964 Two wedded hearts, if ere were such 1003

Unboastful Bard! whose verse concise yet clear 102 Unchanged within, to see all changed without 459 Under the arms of a goodly oak-tree 1048 Under this stone does Walter Harcourt lie 962 Underneath an old oak tree 169 Ungrateful he, who pluck'd thee from thy stalk 70 Unperishing youth 308 Up, up! ye dames, and lasses gay 427 Up, up! ye dames, ye lasses gay 942 Upon the mountain's edge with light touch resting 393 Utter the song, O my soul! the flight and return of Mohammed 329

Verse, a breeze mid blossoms straying 439 Verse, pictures, music, thoughts both grave and gay 482 Verse, that Breeze mid blossoms straying 1085 Virtues and Woes alike too great for man 37 Vivit sed mihi non vivit--nova forte marita 56

Water and windmills, greenness, Islets green 1009 We both attended the same College 955 We pledged our hearts, my love and I 391 Well! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made 362, 1076 Well, they are gone, and here must I remain 178 We've conquer'd us a Peace, like lads true metalled 972 We've fought for Peace, and conquer'd it at last 972 What a spring-tide of Love to dear friends in a shoal 1010 What boots to tell how o'er his grave 1011 What is an Epigram? a dwarfish whole 963 What never is, but only is to be 999 What now, O Man! thou dost or mean'st to do 414 What pleasures shall he ever find 4 What though the chilly wide-mouth'd quacking chorus 476 Whate'er thou giv'st, it still is sweet to me 1010 When British Freedom for an happier land 79 When Hope but made Tranquillity be felt 1004 When Surface talks of other people's worth 969 When the squalls were flitting and fleering 980 When they did greet me father, sudden awe 152 When thieves come, I bark: when gallants, I am still 966 When thou to my true-love com'st 326 When thy Beauty appears 1016 When Youth his faery reign began 62 Whene'er the mist, that stands 'twixt God and thee 487 Where Cam his stealthy flowings most dissembles 988 Where deep in mud Cam rolls his slumbrous stream 35 Where graced with many a classic spoil 29 Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn 432 Where true Love burns Desire is love's pure flame 485 Where'er I find the Good, the True, the Fair 1011 Wherefore art thou come? 989 While my young cheek retains its healthful hues 236 Whilst pale Anxiety, corrosive Care 69 Whom should I choose for my Judge? 1000 Whom the untaught Shepherds call 40 Why is my Love like the Sun? 1109 Why need I say, Louisa dear 252 William, my teacher, my friend 304 Wisdom, Mother of retired Thought 991 With Donne, whose muse on dromedary trots 433 With many a pause and oft reverted eye 94 With many a weary step at length I gain 56 With secret hand heal the conjectur'd wound 988 With skill that never Alchemist yet told 995 Within these circling hollies woodbine-clad 409 Within these wilds was Anna wont to rove 16

Ye Clouds! that far above me float and pause 243 Ye drinkers of Stingo and Nappy so free 978 Ye fowls of ill presage 1017 Ye Gales, that of the Lark's repose 35 Ye harp-controlling hymns 1006 Ye souls unus'd to lofty verse 8 Yes, noble old Warrior! this heart has beat high 317 Yes, yes! that boon, life's richest treat 466 Yet art thou happier far than she 62 Yon row of bleak and visionary pines 1006 You're careful o'er your wealth 'tis true 958 You come from o'er the waters 987 You loved the daughter of Don Manrique? 421 You mould my Hopes, you fashion me within 1002 Your Poem must _eternal_ be 959

Oxford: Horace Hart, Printer to the University

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:

Ellipses in the text are represented as in the original. Ellipses in poetry are indicated by a row of asterisks.

The quotation marks in THE RIME OF THE ANCYENT MARINERE are exactly as printed in the original.

The following words use an oe ligature in the original:

Camoenæ Camoenarum cohoesion Oeolian Phoebus Ptolomoeus

Changes have been made to the text to reflect the corrections mentioned in the Errata on page viii.

Inconsistencies in spelling, hyphenation, and accents have been left as in the original.

The following corrections have been made to the text:

page 564: [Between 19 and 31] And marking that the moonlight came from thence,{original has period}

page 607 (line 137): The soldier's boldness constitutes{original has constitues} his freedom.

page 718: [56] _Octavio (coldly)._ _1800_, _1828_, _1829_.{Note removed as a duplicate of [55].}

page 731: [_Before_ 72] _Duchess (anxiously)._ _1800_,{comma is missing in original} _1828_

page 741: [39] _Wallenstein (with eager expectation)._{period is missing in original} Well?

page 754: [117{original has 17}] _thou_

page 765: _BUTLER and GORDON._{period is missing in original}

page 771: [_After_ 9] [_WALLENSTEIN shudders and turns pale{original has extraneous closing parenthesis}._

page 850 (line 91): What if{original has opening parenthesis followed by the word if} (his stedfast eye still beaming pity

page 868: removed superscripted 1 at the end of line 1 as there is no footnote

page 879: [255] and suddenly stabs ORDONIO.{period is missing in original}

page 879: [Note. In his.... [For MS. version of this variant see note on p. 597.]]{original is missing second closing bracket}

page 906 (line 181): added the word "Is" at the beginning of the line--verified in The Poetical and Dramatic Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, published by Harper Brothers, New York, 1854

page 929: [112] _Laska (recovering himself)._{period is missing in original}

page 934 (line 292): devotion is akin to love,{original has period after the comma}

page 982: First collected _P. and D. W.{period is missing in original}_

page 1146: {original has unmatched opening bracket}For lines 1-63 vide _ante_, No. III

page 1158: _Apud Athenæum.{original has a comma}_

Footnote [598:1] (an undramatic superstition ... pleasing associations, as the Sun and Moon) {original has duplicate word Astrology before and after the material in parentheses}

To maintain consistency, initials referring to manuscripts are spaced throughout the text.

Dates and manuscript references in the linenotes are in italics in the original. Italics markup has been removed to make reading easier.

When there is more than one poem on a page, the linenotes in the original repeat the title. This title has been removed. When there is more than one scene on a page, the linenotes in the original repeat the scene number. This number has been removed.

In "The Piccolomini," some of the drama is written in prose. The lines are numbered. Where words are hyphenated in the original, the parts have been rejoined and the first part of the word moved down to the beginning of the following line. In the list below, the slash indicates where the hyphen occurs in the original.

## Act I, Scene VI:

lines 5-6 orders/--no lines 7-8 counter/manded

## Act II, Scene VIII:

lines 23-24 determina/tion

## Act II, Scene XII:

lines 5-6 splen/did lines 15-16 Tie/fenbach lines 31-32 tale-/bearers lines 34-35 gold.--/And lines 58-59 Rudolph--/a [moved up] lines 99-100 Fron/tignac!--Snapped lines 111-112 con/fidentially

## Act II, Scene XIII:

lines 11-12 me--/talk lines 23-24 pre/cedence lines 25-26 permission--/Good lines 44-45 com/plaint lines 46-47 Chaly/beate lines 59-60 Mara/das lines 65-66 com/pliment!--For lines 66-67 re/maining lines 68-69 Lieutenant-/General

## Act II, Scene XIV:

lines 22-23 brother!--/Hast lines 72-73 over-scrupu/lously lines 76-77 army-/purveyancer

In the Preface to "The Death of Wallenstein," the lines are numbered. Where words are hyphenated in the original, the parts have been rejoined and the first part of the word moved down to the beginning of the following line. In the list below, the slash indicates where the hyphen occurs in the original.

lines 1-2 Wallen/stein lines 10-11 trans/lated lines 12-13 com/parative lines 28-29 His/tory lines 47-48 Piccolo/mini [moved up] lines 61-62 Trans/lator lines 68-69 com/pensation

In Act I, Scene I of "The Triumph of Loyalty," the lines are numbered. Where words are hyphenated in the original, the parts have been rejoined and the first part of the word moved down to the beginning of the following line. In the list below, the slash indicates where the hyphen occurs in the original.

lines 5-6 Cas/tilian lines 60-61 judge/ment--she

In Appendix I, part of the poem "Youth and Age" has numbered lines. Where words are hyphenated in the original, the parts have been rejoined and the first part of the word moved down to the beginning of the following line. In the list below, the slash indicates where the hyphen occurs in the original.

lines 13-14 spark/ling lines 16-17 side/--out

In Appendix II, the "Allegoric Vision" has numbered lines. Where words are hyphenated in the original, the parts have been rejoined and the first part of the word moved down to the beginning of the following line. In the list below, the slash indicates where the hyphen occurs in the original.

lines 26-27 disap/pointments lines 59-60 im/mediately lines 74-75 pin/ing lines 77-78 move/ments lines 91-91 sprink/lings lines 106-107 extre/mity lines 123-124 some/thing lines 127-128 uncer/tainty lines 148-149 over/taken [moved up] lines 161-162 demean/our [moved up] lines 170-171 dim-/eyed [moved up] lines 181-182 mys/teries

In Appendix III, the "Apologetic Preface to 'Fire, Famine, and Slaughter'" has numbered lines. Where words are hyphenated in the original, the parts have been rejoined and the first part of the word moved down to the beginning of the following line. In the list below, the slash indicates where the hyphen occurs in the original.

lines 2-3 cul/tivated lines 25-26 Anti-/Gallican lines 34-35 com/pensated lines 38-39 illus/trious lines 147-148 appari/tions lines 157-158 imagina/tion [moved up] lines 170-171 con/cluded lines 174-175 epigram/matic [moved up] lines 193-194 occa/sion lines 207-208 re/published lines 251-252 pass/age [moved up] lines 267-268 com/pared lines 278-279 tran/scendant lines 285-286 wil/fully lines 301-302 disposi/tions lines 302-303 punish/ment lines 308-309 hypotheti/cally lines 315-316 calum/niators lines 319-320 anti-/prelatist [moved up] lines 339-340 per/secution lines 353-354 con/tented lines 359-360 tempta/tion lines 361-362 tolera/tion lines 370-371 sup/port lines 378-379 Church-anti/quity [moved up] lines 381-382 church-/communion [moved up] lines 394-395 ex/pressed lines 399-400 inter/misceant lines 408-409 alle/gorical [moved up] lines 437-438 dun/geoning lines 439-440 con/cerning [moved up] lines 454-455 charac/ters lines 464-465 truth,--/when lines 467-468 main/taining lines 472-473 primi/tive lines 478-479 reli/gious

In the Bibliography, the following items have line numbers in the original:

III. Introduction to "A Sheet of Sonnets", V. "Preface to the First Editon" and "Preface to the Second Edition"

The line numbers have been removed from the prose paragraphs. To indicate where the lines end in the original, a / slash mark has been used.