Part II. The Sequel, entitled 'The Usurper's Fate' 901

EPIGRAMS An Apology for Spencers 951 On a Late Marriage between an Old Maid and French Petit Maître 952 On an Amorous Doctor 952 'Of smart pretty Fellows,' &c. 952 On Deputy ---- 953 'To be ruled like a Frenchman,' &c. 953 On Mr. Ross, usually Cognominated _Nosy_ 953 'Bob now resolves,' &c. 953 'Say what you will, Ingenious Youth' 954 'If the guilt of all lying,' &c. 954 On an Insignificant 954 'There comes from old Avaro's grave' 954 On a Slanderer 955 Lines in a German Student's Album 955 [Hippona] 955 On a Reader of His Own Verses 955 On a Report of a Minister's Death 956 [Dear Brother Jem] 956 Job's Luck 957 On the Sickness of a Great Minister 957 [To a Virtuous Oeconomist] 958 [L'Enfant Prodigue] 958 On Sir Rubicund Naso 958 To Mr. Pye 959 [Ninety-Eight] 959 Occasioned by the Former 959 [A Liar by Profession] 960 To a Proud Parent 960 Rufa 960 On a Volunteer Singer 960 Occasioned by the Last 961 Epitaph on Major Dieman 961 On the Above 961 Epitaph on a Bad Man (Three Versions) 961 To a Certain Modern Narcissus 962 To a Critic 962 Always Audible 963 Pondere non Numero 963 The Compliment Qualified 963 'What is an Epigram,' &c. 963 'Charles, grave or merry,' &c. 964 'An evil spirit's on thee, friend,' &c. 964 'Here lies the Devil,' &c. 964 To One Who Published in Print, &c. 964 'Scarce any scandal,' &c. 965 'Old Harpy,' &c. 965 To a Vain Young Lady 965 A Hint to Premiers and First Consuls 966 'From me, Aurelia,' &c. 966 For a House-Dog's Collar 966 'In vain I praise thee, Zoilus' 966 Epitaph on a Mercenary Miser 967 A Dialogue between an Author and his Friend 967 Μωροσοφία, or Wisdom in Folly 967 'Each Bond-street buck,' &c. 968 From an Old German Poet 968 On the Curious Circumstance, That in the German, &c. 968 Spots in the Sun 969 'When Surface talks,' &c. 969 To my Candle 969 Epitaph on Himself 970 The Taste of the Times 970 On Pitt and Fox 970 'An excellent adage,' &c. 971 Comparative Brevity of Greek and English 971 On the Secrecy of a Certain Lady 971 Motto for a Transparency, &c. (Two Versions) 972 'Money, I've heard,' &c. 972 Modern Critics 972 Written in an Album 972 To a Lady who requested me to Write a Poem upon Nothing 973 Sentimental 973 'So Mr. Baker,' &c. 973 Authors and Publishers 973 The Alternative 974 'In Spain, that land,' &c. 974 Inscription for a Time-piece 974 On the Most Veracious Anecdotist, &c. 974 'Nothing speaks our mind,' &c. 975 Epitaph of the Present Year on the Monument of Thomas Fuller 975

JEUX D'ESPRIT 976 My Godmother's Beard 976 Lines to Thomas Poole 976 To a Well-known Musical Critic, &c. 977 To T. Poole: An Invitation 978 Song, To be Sung by the Lovers of all the noble liquors, &c. 978 Drinking _versus_ Thinking 979 The Wills of the Wisp 979 To Captain Findlay 980 On Donne's Poem 'To a Flea' 980 [Ex Libris S. T. C.] 981 ΕΓΩΕΝΚΑΙΠΑΝ 981 The Bridge Street Committee 982 Nonsense Sapphics 983 To Susan Steele, &c. 984 Association of Ideas 984 Verses Trivocular 985 Cholera Cured Before-hand 985 To Baby Bates 987 To a Child 987

FRAGMENTS FROM A NOTEBOOK. (_circa_ 1796-1798) 988

FRAGMENTS. (_For unnamed Fragments see_ Index of First Lines.) 996 Over my Cottage 997 [The Night-Mare Death in Life] 998 A Beck in Winter 998 [Not a Critic--But a Judge] 1000 [De Profundis Clamavi] 1001 Fragment of an Ode on Napoleon 1003 Epigram on Kepler 1004 [Ars Poetica] 1006 Translation of the First Strophe of Pindar's Second Olympic 1006 Translation of a Fragment of Heraclitus 1007 Imitated from Aristophanes 1008 To Edward Irving 1008 [Luther--De Dæmonibus] 1009 The Netherlands 1009 Elisa: Translated from Claudian 1009 Profuse Kindness 1010 Napoleon 1010 The Three Sorts of Friends 1012 Bo-Peep and I Spy-- 1012 A Simile 1013 Baron Guelph of Adelstan. A Fragment 1013

METRICAL EXPERIMENTS 1014 An Experiment for a Metre ('I heard a Voice,' &c.) 1014 Trochaics 1015 The Proper Unmodified Dochmius 1015 Iambics 1015 Nonsense ('Sing, impassionate Soul,' &c.) 1015 A Plaintive Movement 1016 An Experiment for a Metre ('When thy Beauty appears') 1016 Nonsense Verses ('Ye fowls of ill presage') 1017 Nonsense ('I wish on earth to sing') 1017 'There in some darksome shade' 1018 'Once again, sweet Willow, wave thee' 1018 'Songs of Shepherds, and rustical Roundelays' 1018 A Metrical Accident 1019 Notes by Professor Saintsbury 1019

APPENDIX I

FIRST DRAFTS, EARLY VERSIONS, ETC.

A. Effusion 35, August 20th, 1795. (First Draft.) [MS. R.] 1021 Effusion, p. 96 [1797]. (Second Draft.) [MS. R.] 1021 B. Recollection 1023 C. The Destiny of Nations. (Draft I.) [Add. MSS. 34,225] 1024 " " " (Draft II.) [_ibid._] 1026 " " " (Draft III.) [_ibid._] 1027 D. Passages in Southey's _Joan of Arc_ (First Edition, 1796) contributed by S. T. Coleridge 1027 E. The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere [1798] 1030 F. The Raven. [_M. P._ March 10, 1798.] 1048 G. Lewti; or, The Circassian's Love-Chant. (1.) [B. M. Add. MSS. 27,902.] 1049 The Circassian's Love-Chaunt. (2.) [Add. MSS. 35,343.] 1050 Lewti; or, The Circassian's Love-Chant. (3.) [Add. MSS. 35,343.] 1051 H. Introduction to the Tale of the Dark Ladie. [_M. P._ Dec. 21, 1799.] 1052 I. The Triumph of Loyalty. An Historic Drama. [Add. MSS. 34,225.] 1060 J. Chamouny; The Hour before Sunrise. A Hymn. [_M. P._ Sept. 11, 1802.] 1074 K. Dejection: An Ode. [_M. P._ Oct. 4, 1802.] 1076 L. To W. Wordsworth. January 1807 1081 M. Youth and Age. (MS. I, Sept. 10, 1823.) 1084 " " (MS. II. 1.) 1085 " " (MS. II. 2.) 1086 N. Love's Apparition and Evanishment. (First Draft.) 1087 O. Two Versions of the Epitaph. ('Stop, Christian,' &c.) 1088 P. [Habent sua Fata--Poetae.] ('The Fox, and Statesman,' &c.) 1089 Q. To John Thelwall 1090 R. [Lines to T. Poole.] [1807.] 1090

APPENDIX II

ALLEGORIC VISION 1091

APPENDIX III

APOLOGETIC PREFACE TO 'FIRE, FAMINE, AND SLAUGHTER' 1097

APPENDIX IV

PROSE VERSIONS OF POEMS, ETC.

A. Questions and Answers in the Court of Love 1109 B. Prose Version of Glycine's Song in _Zapolya_ 1109 C. Work without Hope. (First Draft.) 1110 D. Note to Line 34 of the _Joan of Arc_ Book II. [4{o} 1796.] 1112 E. Dedication. Ode on the Departing Year. [4{o} 1796.] 1113 F. Preface to the MS. of _Osorio_ 1114

APPENDIX V

ADAPTATIONS

From Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke: God and the World _we_ worship still together 1115 The _Augurs_ we of all the world admir'd 1116 Of Humane Learning 1116 From Sir John Davies: On the Immortality of the Soul 1116 From Donne: Eclogue. 'On Unworthy Wisdom' 1117 Letter to Sir Henry Goodyere. 1117 From Ben Jonson: A Nymph's Passion (Mutual Passion) 1118 Underwoods, No. VI. The Hour-glass 1119 The Poetaster, Act I, Scene i. 1120 From Samuel Daniel: Epistle to Sir Thomas Egerton, Knight 1120 Musophilus, Stanza CXLVII 1121 Musophilus, Stanzas XXVII, XXIX, XXX 1122 From Christopher Harvey: The Synagogue (The Nativity, or Christmas Day.) 1122 From Mark Akenside: Blank Verse Inscriptions 1123 From W. L. Bowles:--'I yet remain' 1124 From an old Play: Napoleon 1124

APPENDIX VI

ORIGINALS OF TRANSLATIONS

F. von Matthison: Ein milesisches Mährchen, Adonide 1125 Schiller: Schwindelnd trägt er dich fort auf rastlos strömenden Wogen 1125 Im Hexameter steigt des Springquells flüssige Säule 1125 Stolberg: Unsterblicher Jüngling! 1126 Seht diese heilige Kapell! 1126 Schiller: Nimmer, das glaubt mir 1127 Goethe: Kennst du das Land, wo die Citronen blühn 1128 François-Antoine-Eugène de Planard: 'Batelier, dit Lisette' 1128 German Folk Song: Wenn ich ein Vöglein wär 1129 Stolberg: Mein Arm wird stark und gross mein Muth 1129 Lessing: Ich fragte meine Schöne 1130 Stolberg: Erde, du Mutter zahlloser Kinder, Mutter und Amme! 1130 Friederike Brun: Aus tiefem Schatten des schweigenden Tannenhains 1131 Giambattista Marino: Donna, siam rei di morte. Errasti, errai 1131 MS. Notebook: In diesem Wald, in diesen Gründen 1132 Anthologia Graeca: Κοινῇ πὰρ κλισίῃ ληθαργικὸς ἠδὲ φρενοπλὴξ 1132 Battista Guarini: Canti terreni amori 1132 Stolberg: Der blinde Sänger stand am Meer 1134

BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE POETICAL WORKS OF SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE 1135

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX

No. I. Poems first published in Newspapers or Periodicals 1178 No. II. Epigrams and Jeux d'Esprit first published in Newspapers and Periodicals 1182 No. III. Poems included in Anthologies and other Works 1183 No. IV. Poems first printed or reprinted in _Literary Remains_, 1836, &c. 1187 Poems first printed or reprinted in _Essays on His Own Times_, 1850 1188

INDEX OF FIRST LINES 1189

ABBREVIATIONS

MS. B. M. = MS. preserved in the British Museum.

MS. O. = MS. Ottery: i. e. a collection of juvenile poems in the handwriting of S. T. Coleridge (_circ._ 1793).

MS. O. (c.) = MS. Ottery, No. 3: a transcript (_circ._ 1823) of a collection of juvenile poems by S. T. Coleridge.

MS. S. T. C. = A single MS. poem in the handwriting of S. T. Coleridge.

MS. E. = MS. Estlin: i. e. a collection of juvenile poems in the handwriting of S. T. Coleridge presented to Mrs. Estlin of Bristol _circ._ 1795.

MS. 4{o} = A collection of early poems in the handwriting of S. T. Coleridge (_circ._ 1796).

MS. W. = An MS. in the handwriting of S. T. Coleridge, now in the possession of Mr. Gordon Wordsworth.

MS. R. = MS. Rugby: i. e. in the possession of the Governors of Rugby School.

_An. Anth._ = _Annual Anthology_ of 1800.

_B. L._ = _Biographia Literaria_.

_C. I._ = _Cambridge Intelligencer_.

_E. M._ = _English Minstrelsy_.

_F. F._ = _Felix Farley's Bristol Journal_, 1818.

_F. O._ = _Friendship's Offering_, 1834.

_L. A._ = _Liber Aureus_.

_L. B._ = _Lyrical Ballads_.

_L. R._ = _Literary Remains_.

_M. C._ = _Morning Chronicle_.

_M. M._ = _Monthly Magazine_.

_M. P._ = _Morning Post_.

_P. R._ = _Poetical Register_, 1802.

_P. & D. W._ = _Poetical and Dramatic Works_.

_P. W._ = _Poetical Works_.

_S. L._ = _Sibylline Leaves_ (1817).

_S. S._ = _Selection of Sonnets_.

ERRATA

On p. 16, _n._ 2, line 1, _for_ Oct. 15, _read_ Oct. 25.

On p. 68, line 6, _for_ 1795 _read_ 1794, and _n._ 1, line 1, _for_ September 24, _read_ September 23.

On p. 69, lines 11 and 28, _for_ 1795 _read_ 1794.

On p. 96, _n._ 1, line 1, _for_ March 9, _read_ March 17.

On p. 148, _n._ 1, line 2, _for_ March 28, _read_ March 25.

On p. 314, line 17, _for_ May 26 _read_ May 6.

On p. 1179, line 7, _for_ Sept. 27, _read_ Sept. 23.

On p. 1181, line 33, _for_ Oct. 9 _read_ Oct. 29.

POETICAL WORKS

POEMS

EASTER HOLIDAYS[1:1]

VERSE 1ST

Hail! festal Easter that dost bring Approach of sweetly-smiling spring, When Nature's clad in green: When feather'd songsters through the grove With beasts confess the power of love 5 And brighten all the scene.

VERSE 2ND

Now youths the breaking stages load That swiftly rattling o'er the road To Greenwich haste away: While some with sounding oars divide 10 Of smoothly-flowing Thames the tide All sing the festive lay.

VERSE 3RD

With mirthful dance they beat the ground, Their shouts of joy the hills resound And catch the jocund noise: 15 Without a tear, without a sigh Their moments all in transports fly Till evening ends their joys.

VERSE 4TH

But little think their joyous hearts Of dire Misfortune's varied smarts 20 Which youthful years conceal: Thoughtless of bitter-smiling Woe Which all mankind are born to know And they themselves must feel.

VERSE 5TH

Yet he who Wisdom's paths shall keep 25 And Virtue firm that scorns to weep At ills in Fortune's power, Through this life's variegated scene In raging storms or calm serene Shall cheerful spend the hour. 30

VERSE 6TH

While steady Virtue guides his mind Heav'n-born Content he still shall find That never sheds a tear: Without respect to any tide His hours away in bliss shall glide 35 Like Easter all the year.

1787.

FOOTNOTES:

[1:1] From a hitherto unpublished MS. The lines were sent in a letter to Luke Coleridge, dated May 12, 1787.

DURA NAVIS[2:1]

To tempt the dangerous deep, too venturous youth, Why does thy breast with fondest wishes glow? No tender parent there thy cares shall sooth, No much-lov'd Friend shall share thy every woe. Why does thy mind with hopes delusive burn? 5 Vain are thy Schemes by heated Fancy plann'd: Thy promis'd joy thou'lt see to Sorrow turn Exil'd from Bliss, and from thy native land.

Hast thou foreseen the Storm's impending rage, When to the Clouds the Waves ambitious rise, 10 And seem with Heaven a doubtful war to wage, Whilst total darkness overspreads the skies; Save when the lightnings darting wingéd Fate Quick bursting from the pitchy clouds between In forkéd Terror, and destructive state[2:2] 15 Shall shew with double gloom the horrid scene?

Shalt thou be at this hour from danger free? Perhaps with fearful force some falling Wave Shall wash thee in the wild tempestuous Sea, And in some monster's belly fix thy grave; 20 Or (woful hap!) against some wave-worn rock Which long a Terror to each Bark had stood Shall dash thy mangled limbs with furious shock And stain its craggy sides with human blood.

Yet not the Tempest, or the Whirlwind's roar 25 Equal the horrors of a Naval Fight, When thundering Cannons spread a sea of Gore And varied deaths now fire and now affright: The impatient shout, that longs for closer war, Reaches from either side the distant shores; 30 Whilst frighten'd at His streams ensanguin'd far Loud on his troubled bed huge Ocean roars.[3:1]

What dreadful scenes appear before my eyes! Ah! see how each with frequent slaughter red, Regardless of his dying fellows' cries 35 O'er their fresh wounds with impious order tread! From the dread place does soft Compassion fly! The Furies fell each alter'd breast command; Whilst Vengeance drunk with human blood stands by And smiling fires each heart and arms each hand. 40

Should'st thou escape the fury of that day A fate more cruel still, unhappy, view. Opposing winds may stop thy luckless way, And spread fell famine through the suffering crew, Canst thou endure th' extreme of raging Thirst 45 Which soon may scorch thy throat, ah! thoughtless Youth! Or ravening hunger canst thou bear which erst On its own flesh hath fix'd the deadly tooth?

Dubious and fluttering 'twixt hope and fear With trembling hands the lot I see thee draw, 50 Which shall, or sentence thee a victim drear, To that ghaunt Plague which savage knows no law: Or, deep thy dagger in the friendly heart, Whilst each strong passion agitates thy breast, Though oft with Horror back I see thee start, 55 Lo! Hunger _drives_ thee to th' inhuman feast.

These are the ills, that may the course attend-- Then with the joys of home contented rest-- Here, meek-eyed Peace with humble Plenty lend Their aid united still, to make thee blest. 60 To ease each pain, and to increase each joy-- Here mutual Love shall fix thy tender wife, Whose offspring shall thy youthful care employ And gild with brightest rays the evening of thy Life.

1787.

FOOTNOTES:

[2:1] First published in 1893. The autograph MS. is in the British Museum.

[2:2] _State_, Grandeur [1792]. This school exercise, written in the 15th year of my age, does not contain a line that any clever schoolboy might not have written, and like most school poetry is a _Putting of Thought into Verse_; for such Verses as _strivings_ of mind and struggles after the Intense and Vivid are a fair Promise of better things.--S. T. C. _aetat. suae_ 51. [1823.]

[3:1] I well remember old Jemmy Bowyer, the plagose Orbilius of Christ's Hospital, but an admirable educer no less than Educator of the Intellect, bade me leave out as many epithets as would turn the whole into eight-syllable lines, and then ask myself if the exercise would not be greatly improved. How often have I thought of the proposal since then, and how many thousand bloated and puffing lines have I read, that, by this process, would have tripped over the tongue excellently. Likewise, I remember that he told me on the same occasion--'Coleridge! the connections of a Declamation are not the transitions of Poetry--bad, however, as they are, they are better than "Apostrophes" and "O thou's", for at the worst they are something like common sense. The others are the grimaces of Lunacy.'--S. T. COLERIDGE.

NIL PEJUS EST CAELIBE VITÂ[4:1]

[IN CHRIST'S HOSPITAL BOOK]

I

What pleasures shall he ever find? What joys shall ever glad his heart? Or who shall heal his wounded mind, If tortur'd by Misfortune's smart? Who Hymeneal bliss will never prove, 5 That more than friendship, friendship mix'd with love.

II

Then without child or tender wife, To drive away each care, each sigh, Lonely he treads the paths of life A stranger to Affection's tye: 10 And when from Death he meets his final doom No mourning wife with tears of love shall wet his tomb.

III

Tho' Fortune, Riches, Honours, Pow'r, Had giv'n with every other toy, Those gilded trifles of the hour, 15 Those painted nothings sure to cloy: He dies forgot, his name no son shall bear To shew the man so blest once breath'd the vital air.

1787.

FOOTNOTES:

[4:1] First published in 1893.

SONNET[5:1]

TO THE AUTUMNAL MOON

Mild Splendour of the various-vested Night! Mother of wildly-working visions! hail! I watch thy gliding, while with watery light Thy weak eye glimmers through a fleecy veil; And when thou lovest thy pale orb to shroud 5 Behind the gather'd blackness lost on high; And when thou dartest from the wind-rent cloud Thy placid lightning o'er the awaken'd sky.

Ah such is Hope! as changeful and as fair! Now dimly peering on the wistful sight; 10 Now hid behind the dragon-wing'd Despair: But soon emerging in her radiant might She o'er the sorrow-clouded breast of Care Sails, like a meteor kindling in its flight.

1788.

FOOTNOTES:

[5:1] First published in 1796: included in 1803, 1829, 1834. No changes were made in the text.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xviii, To the, &c.: Sonnet xviii, To the, &c., 1803.

ANTHEM[5:2]

FOR THE CHILDREN OF CHRIST'S HOSPITAL

Seraphs! around th' Eternal's seat who throng With tuneful ecstasies of praise: O! teach our feeble tongues like yours the song Of fervent gratitude to raise-- Like you, inspired with holy flame 5 To dwell on that Almighty name Who bade the child of Woe no longer sigh, And Joy in tears o'erspread the widow's eye.

Th' all-gracious Parent hears the wretch's prayer; The meek tear strongly pleads on high; 10 Wan Resignation struggling with despair The Lord beholds with pitying eye; Sees cheerless Want unpitied pine, Disease on earth its head recline, And bids Compassion seek the realms of woe 15 To heal the wounded, and to raise the low.

She comes! she comes! the meek-eyed Power I see With liberal hand that loves to bless; The clouds of Sorrow at her presence flee; Rejoice! rejoice! ye Children of Distress! 20 The beams that play around her head Thro' Want's dark vale their radiance spread: The young uncultur'd mind imbibes the ray, And Vice reluctant quits th' expected prey.

Cease, thou lorn mother! cease thy wailings drear; 25 Ye babes! the unconscious sob forego; Or let full Gratitude now prompt the tear Which erst did Sorrow force to flow. Unkindly cold and tempest shrill In Life's morn oft the traveller chill, 30 But soon his path the sun of Love shall warm; And each glad scene look brighter for the storm!

1789.

FOOTNOTES:

[5:2] First published in 1834.

LINENOTES:

_Anthem._ For the Children, &c.] This Anthem was written as if intended to have been sung by the Children of Christ's Hospital. MS. O.

[3] yours] you MS. O.

[14] its head on earth MS. O.

JULIA[6:1]

[IN CHRIST'S HOSPITAL BOOK]

Medio de fonte leporum Surgit amari aliquid.

Julia was blest with beauty, wit, and grace: Small poets lov'd to sing her blooming face. Before her altars, lo! a numerous train Preferr'd their vows; yet all preferr'd in vain, Till charming Florio, born to conquer, came 5 And touch'd the fair one with an equal flame. The flame she felt, and ill could she conceal What every look and action would reveal. With boldness then, which seldom fails to move, He pleads the cause of Marriage and of Love: 10 The course of Hymeneal joys he rounds, The fair one's eyes danc'd pleasure at the sounds. Nought now remain'd but 'Noes'--how little meant! And the sweet coyness that endears consent. The youth upon his knees enraptur'd fell: 15 The strange misfortune, oh! what words can tell? Tell! ye neglected sylphs! who lap-dogs guard, Why snatch'd ye not away your precious ward? Why suffer'd ye the lover's weight to fall On the ill-fated neck of much-lov'd Ball? 20 The favourite on his mistress casts his eyes, Gives a short melancholy howl, and--dies. Sacred his ashes lie, and long his rest! Anger and grief divide poor Julia's breast. Her eyes she fixt on guilty Florio first: 25 On him the storm of angry grief must burst. That storm he fled: he wooes a kinder fair, Whose fond affections no dear puppies share. 'Twere vain to tell, how Julia pin'd away: Unhappy Fair! that in one luckless day-- 30 From future Almanacks the day be crost!-- At once her Lover and her Lap-dog lost.

1789.

FOOTNOTES:

[6:1] First published in the _History of . . . Christ's Hospital_. By the Rev. W. Trollope, 1834, p. 192. Included in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 33, 34. First collected _P. and D. W._, 1877-80.

LINENOTES:

_Julia_, Medio, &c.] De medio fonte leporum. _Trollope._

[12] danc'd] dance (T. Lit. Rem.)

QUAE NOCENT DOCENT[7:1]

[IN CHRIST'S HOSPITAL BOOK]

O! mihi praeteritos referat si Jupiter annos!

Oh! might my ill-past hours return again! No more, as then, should Sloth around me throw Her soul-enslaving, leaden chain! No more the precious time would I employ In giddy revels, or in thoughtless joy, 5 A present joy producing future woe.

But o'er the midnight Lamp I'd love to pore, I'd seek with care fair Learning's depths to sound, And gather scientific Lore: Or to mature the embryo thoughts inclin'd, 10 That half-conceiv'd lay struggling in my mind, The cloisters' solitary gloom I'd round.

'Tis vain to wish, for Time has ta'en his flight-- For follies past be ceas'd the fruitless tears: Let follies past to future care incite. 15 Averse maturer judgements to obey Youth owns, with pleasure owns, the Passions' sway, But sage Experience only comes with years.

1789.

FOOTNOTES:

[7:1] First published in 1893.

THE NOSE[8:1]

Ye souls unus'd to lofty verse Who sweep the earth with lowly wing, Like sand before the blast disperse-- A Nose! a mighty Nose I sing! As erst Prometheus stole from heaven the fire 5 To animate the wonder of his hand; Thus with unhallow'd hands, O Muse, aspire, And from my subject snatch a burning brand! So like the Nose I sing--my verse shall glow-- Like Phlegethon my verse in waves of fire shall flow! 10

Light of this once all darksome spot Where now their glad course mortals run, First-born of Sirius begot Upon the focus of the Sun-- I'll call thee ----! for such thy earthly name-- 15 What name so high, but what too low must be? Comets, when most they drink the solar flame Are but faint types and images of thee! Burn madly, Fire! o'er earth in ravage run, Then blush for shame more red by fiercer ---- outdone! 20

I saw when from the turtle feast The thick dark smoke in volumes rose! I saw the darkness of the mist Encircle thee, O Nose! Shorn of thy rays thou shott'st a fearful gleam 25 (The turtle quiver'd with prophetic fright) Gloomy and sullen thro' the night of steam:-- So Satan's Nose when Dunstan urg'd to flight, Glowing from gripe of red-hot pincers dread Athwart the smokes of Hell disastrous twilight shed! 30

The Furies to madness my brain devote-- In robes of ice my body wrap! On billowy flames of fire I float, Hear ye my entrails how they snap? Some power unseen forbids my lungs to breathe! 35 What fire-clad meteors round me whizzing fly! I vitrify thy torrid zone beneath, Proboscis fierce! I am calcined! I die! Thus, like great Pliny, in Vesuvius' fire, I perish in the blaze while I the blaze admire. 40

1789.

FOOTNOTES:

[8:1] First published in 1834. The third stanza was published in the _Morning Post_, Jan. 2, 1798, entitled 'To the Lord Mayor's Nose'. William Gill (see ll. 15, 20) was Lord Mayor in 1788.

LINENOTES:

Title] Rhapsody MS. O: The Nose.--An Odaic Rhapsody MS. O (c).

[5] As erst from Heaven Prometheus stole the fire MS. O (c).

[7] hands] hand MS. O (c).

[10] waves of fire] fiery waves MS. O (c).

[15] I'll call thee Gill MS. O. G--ll MS. O (c).

[16] high] great MS. O (c).

[20] by fiercer Gill outdone MS. O.: more red for shame by fiercer G--ll MS. O (c).

[22] dark] dank MS. O, MS. O (c).

[25] rays] beams MS. O (c).

[30] MS. O (c) ends with the third stanza.

TO THE MUSE[9:1]

Tho' no bold flights to thee belong; And tho' thy lays with conscious fear, Shrink from Judgement's eye severe, Yet much I thank thee, Spirit of my song! For, lovely Muse! thy sweet employ 5 Exalts my soul, refines my breast, Gives each pure pleasure keener zest, And softens sorrow into pensive Joy. From thee I learn'd the wish to bless, From thee to commune with my heart; 10 From thee, dear Muse! the gayer part, To laugh with pity at the crowds that press Where Fashion flaunts her robes by Folly spun, Whose hues gay-varying wanton in the sun.

1789.

FOOTNOTES:

[9:1] First published in 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet I. To my Muse MS. O.

DESTRUCTION OF THE BASTILE[10:1]

I

Heard'st thou yon universal cry, And dost thou linger still on Gallia's shore? Go, Tyranny! beneath some barbarous sky Thy terrors lost and ruin'd power deplore! What tho' through many a groaning age 5 Was felt thy keen suspicious rage, Yet Freedom rous'd by fierce Disdain Has wildly broke thy triple chain, And like the storm which Earth's deep entrails hide, At length has burst its way and spread the ruins wide. 10

* * * * *

IV

In sighs their sickly breath was spent; each gleam Of Hope had ceas'd the long long day to cheer; Or if delusive, in some flitting dream, It gave them to their friends and children dear-- Awaked by lordly Insult's sound 15 To all the doubled horrors round, Oft shrunk they from Oppression's band While Anguish rais'd the desperate hand For silent death; or lost the mind's controll, Thro' every burning vein would tides of Frenzy roll. 20

V

But cease, ye pitying bosoms, cease to bleed! Such scenes no more demand the tear humane; I see, I see! glad Liberty succeed With every patriot virtue in her train! And mark yon peasant's raptur'd eyes; 25 Secure he views his harvests rise; No fetter vile the mind shall know, And Eloquence shall fearless glow. Yes! Liberty the soul of Life shall reign, Shall throb in every pulse, shall flow thro' every vein! 30

VI

Shall France alone a Despot spurn? Shall she alone, O Freedom, boast thy care? Lo, round thy standard Belgia's heroes burn, Tho' Power's blood-stain'd streamers fire the air, And wider yet thy influence spread, 35 Nor e'er recline thy weary head, Till every land from pole to pole Shall boast one independent soul! And still, as erst, let favour'd Britain be First ever of the first and freest of the free! 40

? 1789.

FOOTNOTES:

[10:1] First published in 1834. _Note._ The Bastile was destroyed July 14, 1789.

LINENOTES:

Title] An ode on the Destruction of the Bastile MS. O.

[11] In MS. O stanza iv follows stanza i, part of the leaf being torn out. In another MS. copy in place of the asterisks the following note is inserted: 'Stanzas second and third are lost. We may gather from the context that they alluded to the Bastile and its inhabitants.'

[12] long long] live-long MS. O.

[32] Shall She, O Freedom, all thy blessings share MS. O erased.

LIFE[11:1]

As late I journey'd o'er the extensive plain Where native Otter sports his scanty stream, Musing in torpid woe a Sister's pain, The glorious prospect woke me from the dream.

At every step it widen'd to my sight-- 5 Wood, Meadow, verdant Hill, and dreary Steep, Following in quick succession of delight,-- Till all--at once--did my eye ravish'd sweep! May this (I cried) my course through Life portray! New scenes of Wisdom may each step display, 10 And Knowledge open as my days advance! Till what time Death shall pour the undarken'd ray, My eye shall dart thro' infinite expanse, And thought suspended lie in Rapture's blissful trance.

1789.

FOOTNOTES:

[11:1] First published in 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet II. Written September, 1789 MS. O: Sonnet written just after the writer left the Country in Sept. 1789, _aetat._ 15 MS. O (c).

[6] dreary] barren MS. O, MS. O (c).

[8] my ravish'd eye did sweep. MS. O, MS. O (c).

[12] Till when death pours at length MS. O (c).

[14] While thought suspended lies MS. O: While thought suspended lies in Transport's blissful trance MS. O (c).

PROGRESS OF VICE[12:1]

[Nemo repente turpissimus]

Deep in the gulph of Vice and Woe Leaps Man at once with headlong throw? Him inborn Truth and Virtue guide, Whose guards are Shame and conscious Pride. In some gay hour Vice steals into the breast; 5 Perchance she wears some softer Virtue's vest. By unperceiv'd degrees she tempts to stray, Till far from Virtue's path she leads the feet away.

Then swift the soul to disenthrall Will Memory the past recall, 10 And Fear before the Victim's eyes Bid future ills and dangers rise. But hark! the Voice, the Lyre, their charms combine-- Gay sparkles in the cup the generous Wine-- Th' inebriate dance, the fair frail Nymph inspires, 15 And Virtue vanquish'd--scorn'd--with hasty flight retires.

But soon to tempt the Pleasures cease; Yet Shame forbids return to peace, And stern Necessity will force Still to urge on the desperate course. 20 The drear black paths of Vice the wretch must try, Where Conscience flashes horror on each eye, Where Hate--where Murder scowl--where starts Affright! Ah! close the scene--ah! close--for dreadful is the sight.

1790.

FOOTNOTES:

[12:1] First published in 1834, from _MS. O_.

LINENOTES:

Title] Progress of Vice. An Ode MS. O. The motto first appears in Boyer's _Liber Aureus_.

[1] Vice] Guilt L. A.

[3] inborn] innate L. A.

[9] Yet still the heart to disenthrall L. A.

[12] Bid] Bids MS. O. ills] woes L. A.

[13] But hark! their charms the voice L. A.

[15] The mazy dance and frail young Beauty fires L. A.

[20] Still on to urge MS. O.

[24] Ah! close the scene, for dreadful MS. O.

MONODY ON THE DEATH OF CHATTERTON[13:1]

[FIRST VERSION, IN CHRIST'S HOSPITAL BOOK--1790]

Cold penury repress'd his noble rage, And froze the genial current of his soul.

Now prompts the Muse poetic lays, And high my bosom beats with love of Praise! But, Chatterton! methinks I hear thy name, For cold my Fancy grows, and dead each Hope of Fame.

When Want and cold Neglect had chill'd thy soul, 5 Athirst for Death I see thee drench the bowl! Thy corpse of many a livid hue On the bare ground I view, Whilst various passions all my mind engage; Now is my breast distended with a sigh, 10 And now a flash of Rage Darts through the tear, that glistens in my eye.

Is this the land of liberal Hearts! Is this the land, where Genius ne'er in vain Pour'd forth her soul-enchanting strain? 15 Ah me! yet Butler 'gainst the bigot foe Well-skill'd to aim keen Humour's dart, Yet Butler felt Want's poignant sting; And Otway, Master of the Tragic art, Whom Pity's self had taught to sing, 20 Sank beneath a load of Woe; This ever can the generous Briton hear, And starts not in his eye th' indignant Tear?

Elate of Heart and confident of Fame, From vales where Avon sports, the Minstrel came, 25 Gay as the Poet hastes along He meditates the future song, How Ælla battled with his country's foes, And whilst Fancy in the air Paints him many a vision fair 30 His eyes dance rapture and his bosom glows. With generous joy he views th' ideal gold: He listens to many a Widow's prayers, And many an Orphan's thanks he hears; He soothes to peace the care-worn breast, 35 He bids the Debtor's eyes know rest, And Liberty and Bliss behold: And now he punishes the heart of steel, And her own iron rod he makes Oppression feel.

Fated to heave sad Disappointment's sigh, 40 To feel the Hope now rais'd, and now deprest, To feel the burnings of an injur'd breast, From all thy Fate's deep sorrow keen In vain, O Youth, I turn th' affrighted eye; For powerful Fancy evernigh 45 The hateful picture forces on my sight. There, Death of every dear delight, Frowns Poverty of Giant mien! In vain I seek the charms of youthful grace, Thy sunken eye, thy haggard cheeks it shews, 50 The quick emotions struggling in the Face Faint index of thy mental Throes, When each strong Passion spurn'd controll, And not a Friend was nigh to calm thy stormy soul.

Such was the sad and gloomy hour 55 When anguish'd Care of sullen brow Prepared the Poison's death-cold power. Already to thy lips was rais'd the bowl, When filial Pity stood thee by, Thy fixéd eyes she bade thee roll 60 On scenes that well might melt thy soul-- Thy native cot she held to view, Thy native cot, where Peace ere long Had listen'd to thy evening song; Thy sister's shrieks she bade thee hear, 65 And mark thy mother's thrilling tear, She made thee feel her deep-drawn sigh, And all her silent agony of Woe.

And from _thy_ Fate shall such distress ensue? Ah! dash the poison'd chalice from thy hand! 70 And thou had'st dash'd it at her soft command; But that Despair and Indignation rose, And told again the story of thy Woes, Told the keen insult of th' unfeeling Heart, The dread dependence on the low-born mind, 75 Told every Woe, for which thy breast might smart, Neglect and grinning scorn and Want combin'd-- Recoiling back, thou sent'st the friend of Pain To roll a tide of Death thro' every freezing vein.

O Spirit blest! 80 Whether th' eternal Throne around, Amidst the blaze of Cherubim, Thou pourest forth the grateful hymn, Or, soaring through the blest Domain, Enraptur'st Angels with thy strain,-- 85 Grant me, like thee, the lyre to sound, Like thee, with fire divine to glow-- But ah! when rage the Waves of Woe, Grant me with firmer breast t'oppose their hate, And soar beyond the storms with upright eye elate![15:1] 90

1790

FOOTNOTES:

[13:1] First published in 1898. The version in the Ottery Copy-book _MS. O_ was first published in _P. and D. W._, 1880, ii. 355*-8*. Three MSS. of the _Monody_, &c. are extant: (1) the Ottery Copy-book [_MS. O_]; (2) Boyer's _Liber Aureus_ = the text as printed; (3) the transcription of S. T. C.'s early poems made in 1823 [_MS. O (c)_]. Variants in 1 and 3 are given below.

[15:1] [Note to ll. 88-90.] 'Altho' this latter reflection savours of suicide, it will easily meet with the indulgence of the considerate reader when he reflects that the Author's imagination was at that time inflam'd with the idea of his beloved Poet, and perhaps uttered a sentiment which in his cooler moments he would have abhor'd the thought of.' [Signed] J. M. _MS. O (c)_.

LINENOTES:

Title] A Monody on Chatterton, who poisoned himself at the age of eighteen--written by the author at the age of sixteen. MS. O (c).

Motto] The motto does not appear in MS. O, but a note is prefixed: 'This poem has since appeared in print, much altered, whether for the better I doubt. This was, I believe, written before the Author went to College' (J. T. C.).

[6] drench] drain MS. O, MS. O (c).

[7] corpse] corse MS. O, MS. O (c).

[13] Hearts] Heart MS. O, MS. O (c).

[20] taught] bade MS. O, MS. O (c).

[21] Sank] Sunk MS. O, MS. O (c).

[22] This ever] Which can the . . . ever hear MS. O, MS. O (c).

[29] whilst] while MS. O.

[32] ideal] rising MS. O.

[36] eyes] too MS. O (c).

[42] To feel] With all MS. O.

[43] Lo! from thy dark Fate's sorrow keen MS. O.

[45] powerful] busy MS. O.

[50] cheeks it] cheek she MS. O: looks she MS. O (c).

[51] the] thy MS. O.

[60] eyes] eye MS. O.

[61] On scenes which MS. O. On] To MS. O (c).

[64] evening] Evening's MS. O (c).

[66] thrilling] frequent MS. O (c).

[67] made] bade MS. O, MS. O (c).

[78] sent'st] badest MS. O.

[79] To] Quick. freezing] icening MS. O, MS. O (c).

[81] eternal] Eternal's MS. O: endless MS. O (c).

[82] Cherubim] Seraphim MS. O.

[88] But ah!] Like thee MS. O, MS. O (c).

[89]

To leave behind Contempt, and Want, and State, MS. O.

To leave behind Contempt and Want and Hate MS. O (c).

And seek in other worlds an happier Fate MS. O, MS. O (c).

AN INVOCATION[16:1]

Sweet Muse! companion of my every hour! Voice of my Joy! Sure soother of the sigh! Now plume thy pinions, now exert each power, And fly to him who owns the candid eye. And if a smile of Praise thy labour hail 5 (Well shall thy labours then my mind employ) Fly fleetly back, sweet Muse! and with the tale O'erspread my Features with a flush of Joy!

1790.

FOOTNOTES:

[16:1] First published in 1893, from an autograph MS.

ANNA AND HARLAND[16:2]

Within these wilds was Anna wont to rove While Harland told his love in many a sigh, But stern on Harland roll'd her brother's eye, They fought, they fell--her brother and her love!

To Death's dark house did grief-worn Anna haste, 5 Yet here her pensive ghost delights to stay; Oft pouring on the winds the broken lay-- And hark, I hear her--'twas the passing blast.

I love to sit upon her tomb's dark grass, Then Memory backward rolls Time's shadowy tide; 10 The tales of other days before me glide: With eager thought I seize them as they pass; For fair, tho' faint, the forms of Memory gleam, Like Heaven's bright beauteous bow reflected in the stream.

? 1790.

FOOTNOTES:

[16:2] First printed in the _Cambridge Intelligencer_, Oct. 25, 1794. First collected _P. and D. W._, 1880, _Supplement_, ii. 359. The text is that of 1880 and 1893, which follow a MS. version.

LINENOTES:

Title] Anna and Henry C. I.

[1] Along this glade C. I.

[2] Henry C. I.

[3] stern] dark C. I. Harland] Henry C. I.

[5] To her cold grave did woe-worn C. I.

[6] stay] stray C. I.

[7] the] a C. I.

[9] dark] dank C. I.

[10] Then] There C. I.

[11] tales] forms C. I.

[14] Like Heaven's bright bow reflected on the stream. C. I.

TO THE EVENING STAR[16:3]

O meek attendant of Sol's setting blaze, I hail, sweet star, thy chaste effulgent glow; On thee full oft with fixéd eye I gaze Till I, methinks, all spirit seem to grow. O first and fairest of the starry choir, 5 O loveliest 'mid the daughters of the night, Must not the maid I love like thee inspire _Pure_ joy and _calm_ Delight?

Must she not be, as is thy placid sphere Serenely brilliant? Whilst to gaze a while 10 Be all my wish 'mid Fancy's high career E'en till she quit this scene of earthly toil; Then Hope perchance might fondly sigh to join Her spirit in thy kindred orb, O Star benign!

? 1790.

FOOTNOTES:

[16:3] First published in _P. and D. W._, 1880, _Supplement_, ii. 359, from _MS. O_.

PAIN[17:1]

Once could the Morn's first beams, the healthful breeze, All Nature charm, and gay was every hour:-- But ah! not Music's self, nor fragrant bower Can glad the trembling sense of wan Disease. Now that the frequent pangs my frame assail, 5 Now that my sleepless eyes are sunk and dim, And seas of Pain seem waving through each limb-- Ah what can all Life's gilded scenes avail? I view the crowd, whom Youth and Health inspire, Hear the loud laugh, and catch the sportive lay, 10 Then sigh and think--I too could laugh and play And gaily sport it on the Muse's lyre, Ere Tyrant Pain had chas'd away delight, Ere the wild pulse throbb'd anguish thro' the night!

? 1790.

FOOTNOTES:

[17:1] First published in 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Pain, a Sonnet MS. O: Sonnet Composed in Sickness MS.

[3] But ah! nor splendid feasts MS. O (c).

[12] Muse's] festive MS. O, MS. O (c).

ON A LADY WEEPING[17:2]

IMITATION FROM THE LATIN OF NICOLAUS ARCHIUS

Lovely gems of radiance meek Trembling down my Laura's cheek, As the streamlets silent glide Thro' the Mead's enamell'd pride, Pledges sweet of pious woe, 5 Tears which Friendship taught to flow, Sparkling in yon humid light Love embathes his pinions bright: There amid the glitt'ring show'r Smiling sits th' insidious Power; 10 As some wingéd Warbler oft When Spring-clouds shed their treasures soft Joyous tricks his plumes anew, And flutters in the fost'ring dew.

? 1790.

FOOTNOTES:

[17:2] First published in 1893. From _MS. O (c)_.

MONODY ON A TEA-KETTLE[18:1]

O Muse who sangest late another's pain, To griefs domestic turn thy coal-black steed! With slowest steps thy funeral steed must go, Nodding his head in all the pomp of woe: Wide scatter round each dark and deadly weed, 5 And let the melancholy dirge complain, (Whilst Bats shall shriek and Dogs shall howling run) The tea-kettle is spoilt and Coleridge is undone!

Your cheerful songs, ye unseen crickets, cease! Let songs of grief your alter'd minds engage! 10 For he who sang responsive to your lay, What time the joyous bubbles 'gan to play, The _sooty swain_ has felt the fire's fierce rage;-- Yes, he is gone, and all my woes increase; I heard the water issuing from the wound-- 15 No more the Tea shall pour its fragrant steams around!

O Goddess best belov'd! Delightful Tea! With thee compar'd what yields the madd'ning Vine? Sweet power! who know'st to spread the calm delight, And the pure joy prolong to midmost night! 20 Ah! must I all thy varied sweets resign? Enfolded close in grief thy form I see; No more wilt thou extend thy willing arms, Receive the _fervent Jove_, and yield him all thy charms!

How sink the mighty low by Fate opprest!-- 25 Perhaps, O Kettle! thou by scornful toe Rude urg'd t' ignoble place with plaintive din. May'st rust obscure midst heaps of vulgar tin;-- As if no joy had ever seiz'd my breast When from thy spout the streams did arching fly,-- 30 As if, infus'd, thou ne'er hadst known t' inspire All the warm raptures of poetic fire!

But hark! or do I fancy the glad voice-- 'What tho' the swain did wondrous charms disclose-- (Not such did Memnon's sister sable drest) 35 Take these bright arms with royal face imprest, A better Kettle shall thy soul rejoice, And with Oblivion's wings o'erspread thy woes!' Thus Fairy Hope can soothe distress and toil; On empty Trivets she bids fancied Kettles boil! 40

1790.

FOOTNOTES:

[18:1] First published in 1834, from _MS. O_. The text of 1893 follows an autograph MS. in the Editor's possession.

LINENOTES:

_Monody_] 1 Muse that late sang another's poignant pain MS. S. T. C.

[3] In slowest steps the funeral steeds shall go MS. S. T. C.

[4] Nodding their heads MS. S. T. C.

[5] each deadly weed MS. S. T. C.

[8] The] His MS. S. T. C.

[9] songs] song MS. S. T. C.

[15] issuing] hissing MS. S. T. C.

[16] pour] throw MS. S. T. C. steams] steam MS. S. T. C.

[18] thee] whom MS. S. T. C. Vine] Wine MS. S. T. C.

[19] who] that MS. S. T. C.

[21] various charms MS. S. T. C.

[23] extend] expand MS. S. T. C.

[25] How low the mighty sink MS. S. T. C.

[29] seiz'd] chear'd MS. S. T. C.

[30-1]

When from thy spout the stream did arching flow As if, inspir'd

MS. S. T. C.

[33] the glad] _Georgian_ MS. S. T. C.

[34] the swain] its form MS. S. T. C.

[35] _Note._ A parenthetical reflection of the Author's. MS. O.

[38] wings] wing MS. S. T. C.

GENEVIEVE[19:1]

Maid of my Love, sweet Genevieve! In Beauty's light you glide along: Your eye is like the Star of Eve, And sweet your voice, as Seraph's song Yet not your heavenly beauty gives 5 This heart with Passion soft to glow: Within your soul a voice there lives! It bids you hear the tale of Woe. When sinking low the sufferer wan Beholds no hand outstretch'd to save, 10 Fair, as the bosom of the Swan That rises graceful o'er the wave, I've seen your breast with pity heave, And _therefore_ love I you, sweet Genevieve!

1789-90.

FOOTNOTES:

[19:1] First published in the _Cambridge Intelligencer_ for Nov. 1, 1794: included in the editions of 1796, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. Three MSS. are extant; (1) an autograph in a copy-book made for the family [_MS. O_]; (2) an autograph in a copy-book presented to Mrs. Estlin [_MS. E_]; and (3) a transcript included in a copy-book presented to Sara Coleridge in 1823 [_MS. O (c)_]. In an unpublished letter dated Dec. 18, 1807, Coleridge invokes the aid of Richard ['Conservation'] Sharp on behalf of a 'Mrs. Brewman, who was elected a nurse to one of the wards of Christ's Hospital at the time that I was a boy there'. He says elsewhere that he spent full half the time from seventeen to eighteen in the sick ward of Christ's Hospital. It is doubtless to this period, 1789-90, that _Pain_ and _Genevieve_, which, according to a Christ's Hospital tradition, were inspired by his 'Nurse's Daughter', must be assigned.

'This little poem was written when the Author was a boy'--_Note 1796, 1803_.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet iii. MS. O: Ode MS. E: A Sonnet MS. O (c): Effusion xvii. 1796. The heading, _Genevieve_, first appears in 1803.

[2] Thou glid'st along [so, too, in ll. 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 13, 14] MS. O, MS. E, MS. O (c), C. I.

[4] Thy voice is lovely as the MS. E: Thy voice is soft, &c. MS. O (c), C. I.

[8] It bids thee hear the tearful plaint of woe MS. E.

[10] no . . . save] no friendly hand that saves MS. E. outstretch'd] stretcht out MS. O, MS. O (c), C. I.

[12] the wave] quick-rolling waves MS. E.

ON RECEIVING AN ACCOUNT THAT HIS ONLY SISTER'S DEATH WAS INEVITABLE[20:1]

The tear which mourn'd a brother's fate scarce dry-- Pain after pain, and woe succeeding woe-- Is my heart destin'd for another blow? O my sweet sister! and must thou too die? Ah! how has Disappointment pour'd the tear 5 O'er infant Hope destroy'd by early frost! How are ye gone, whom most my soul held dear! Scarce had I lov'd you ere I mourn'd you lost; Say, is this hollow eye, this heartless pain, Fated to rove thro' Life's wide cheerless plain-- 10 Nor father, brother, sister meet its ken-- My woes, my joys unshared! Ah! long ere then On me thy icy dart, stern Death, be prov'd;-- Better to die, than live and not be lov'd!

1791.

FOOTNOTES:

[20:1] First published in 1834. The 'brother' (line 1) was Luke Herman Coleridge who died at Thorverton in 1790. Anne Coleridge, the poet's sister (the only daughter of his father's second marriage), died in March 1791.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet v. MS. O.

[1] tear] tears MS. O.

[4] O my sweet sister must _thou_ die MS. O.

[7] gone] flown MS. O.

[10] Fated] Destin'd MS. O.

[11] father] Mother MS. O.

ON SEEING A YOUTH AFFECTIONATELY WELCOMED BY A SISTER[21:1]

I too a sister had! too cruel Death! How sad Remembrance bids my bosom heave! Tranquil her soul, as sleeping Infant's breath; Meek were her manners as a vernal Eve. Knowledge, that frequent lifts the bloated mind, 5 Gave her the treasure of a lowly breast, And Wit to venom'd Malice oft assign'd, Dwelt in her bosom in a Turtle's nest. Cease, busy Memory! cease to urge the dart; Nor on my soul her love to me impress! 10 For oh I mourn in anguish--and my heart Feels the keen pang, th' unutterable distress. Yet wherefore grieve I that her sorrows cease, For Life was misery, and the Grave is Peace!

1791.

FOOTNOTES:

[21:1] First published in 1834.

A MATHEMATICAL PROBLEM[21:2]

If Pegasus will let _thee_ only ride him, Spurning my clumsy efforts to o'erstride him, Some fresh expedient the Muse will try, And walk on stilts, although she cannot fly.

TO THE REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE

DEAR BROTHER,

I have often been surprised that Mathematics, the quintessence of Truth, should have found admirers so few and so languid. Frequent consideration and minute scrutiny have at length unravelled the cause; viz. that though Reason is feasted, Imagination is starved; whilst Reason is luxuriating in its proper Paradise, Imagination is wearily travelling on a dreary desert. To assist Reason by the stimulus of Imagination is the design of the following production. In the execution of it much may be objectionable. The verse (particularly in the introduction of the ode) may be accused of unwarrantable liberties, but they are liberties equally homogeneal with the exactness of Mathematical disquisition, and the boldness of Pindaric daring. I have three strong champions to defend me against the attacks of Criticism: the Novelty, the Difficulty, and the Utility of the work. I may justly plume myself that I first have drawn the nymph Mathesis from the visionary caves of abstracted idea, and caused her to unite with Harmony. The first-born of this Union I now present to you; with interested motives indeed--as I expect to receive in return the more valuable offspring of your Muse. Thine ever, S. T. C.

[CHRIST'S HOSPITAL], _March 31, 1791_.

This is now--this was erst, Proposition the first--and Problem the first.

I

On a given finite line Which must no way incline; To describe an equi-- --lateral Tri-- --A, N, G, L, E.[22:1] 5 Now let A. B. Be the given line Which must no way incline; The great Mathematician Makes this Requisition, 10 That we describe an Equi-- --lateral Tri-- --angle on it: Aid us, Reason--aid us, Wit!

II

From the centre A. at the distance A. B. 15 Describe the circle B. C. D. At the distance B. A. from B. the centre The round A. C. E. to describe boldly venture.[22:2] (Third postulate see.) And from the point C. 20 In which the circles make a pother Cutting and slashing one another, Bid the straight lines a journeying go. C. A. C. B. those lines will show. To the points, which by A. B. are reckon'd, 25 And postulate the second For Authority ye know. A. B. C. Triumphant shall be An Equilateral Triangle, 30 Not Peter Pindar carp, nor Zoilus can wrangle.

III

Because the point A. is the centre Of the circular B. C. D. And because the point B. is the centre Of the circular A. C. E. 35 A. C. to A. B. and B. C. to B. A. Harmoniously equal for ever must stay; Then C. A. and B. C. Both extend the kind hand To the basis, A. B. 40 Unambitiously join'd in Equality's Band. But to the same powers, when two powers are equal, My mind forbodes the sequel; My mind does some celestial impulse teach, And equalises each to each. 45 Thus C. A. with B. C. strikes the same sure alliance, That C. A. and B. C. had with A. B. before; And in mutual affiance None attempting to soar Above another, 50 The unanimous three C. A. and B. C. and A. B. All are equal, each to his brother, Preserving the balance of power so true: Ah! the like would the proud Autocratrix[23:1] do! 55 At taxes impending not Britain would tremble, Nor Prussia struggle her fear to dissemble; Nor the Mah'met-sprung Wight The great Mussulman Would stain his Divan 60 With Urine the soft-flowing daughter of Fright.

IV

But rein your stallion in, too daring Nine! Should Empires bloat the scientific line? Or with dishevell'd hair all madly do ye run For transport that your task is done? 65 For done it is--the cause is tried! And Proposition, gentle Maid, Who soothly ask'd stern Demonstration's aid, Has proved her right, and A. B. C. Of Angles three 70 Is shown to be of equal side; And now our weary steed to rest in fine, 'Tis rais'd upon A. B. the straight, the given line.

1791.

FOOTNOTES:

[21:2] First published in 1834 without a title, but tabulated as 'Mathematical Problem' in 'Contents' 1 [p. xi].

[22:1] _Poetice_ for Angle. _Letter, 1791._

[22:2] Delendus 'fere'. _Letter, 1791._

[23:1] Empress of Russia.

LINENOTES:

Title] Prospectus and Specimen of a Translation of Euclid in a series of Pindaric Odes, communicated in a letter of the author to his Brother Rev. G. Coleridge [March 17, 1791]. MS. O (c).

[5] A E N G E E E L E. Letter, 1791.

[36] A C to C B and C B to C A. Letter, 1791, MS. O (c).

[48] affiance] alliance Letter, 1791.

[55] Autocratrix] Autocratorix MS. O (c).

HONOUR[24:1]

O, curas hominum! O, quantum est in rebus inane!

The fervid Sun had more than halv'd the day, When gloomy on his couch Philedon lay; His feeble frame consumptive as his purse, His aching head did wine and women curse; His fortune ruin'd and his wealth decay'd, 5 Clamorous his duns, his gaming debts unpaid, The youth indignant seiz'd his tailor's bill, And on its back thus wrote with moral quill: 'Various as colours in the rainbow shown, Or similar in emptiness alone, 10 How false, how vain are Man's pursuits below! Wealth, Honour, Pleasure--what can ye bestow? Yet see, how high and low, and young and old Pursue the all-delusive power of Gold. Fond man! should all Peru thy empire own, 15 For thee tho' all Golconda's jewels shone, What greater bliss could all this wealth supply? What, but to eat and drink and sleep and die? Go, tempt the stormy sea, the burning soil-- Go, waste the night in thought, the day in toil, 20 Dark frowns the rock, and fierce the tempests rave-- Thy ingots go the unconscious deep to pave! Or thunder at thy door the midnight train, Or Death shall knock that never knocks in vain. Next Honour's sons come bustling on amain; 25 I laugh with pity at the idle train. Infirm of soul! who think'st to lift thy name Upon the waxen wings of human fame,-- Who for a sound, articulated breath-- Gazest undaunted in the face of death! 30 What art thou but a Meteor's glaring light-- Blazing a moment and then sunk in night? Caprice which rais'd thee high shall hurl thee low, Or Envy blast the laurels on thy brow. To such poor joys could ancient Honour lead 35 When empty fame was toiling Merit's meed; To Modern Honour other lays belong; Profuse of joy and Lord of right and wrong, Honour can game, drink, riot in the stew, Cut a friend's throat;--what cannot Honour do? 40 Ah me!--the storm within can Honour still For Julio's death, whom Honour made me kill? Or will this lordly Honour tell the way To pay those debts, which Honour makes me pay? Or if with pistol and terrific threats 45 I make some traveller pay my Honour's debts, A medicine for this wound can Honour give? Ah, no! my Honour dies to make my Honour live. But see! young Pleasure, and her train advance, And joy and laughter wake the inebriate dance; 50 Around my neck she throws her fair white arms, I meet her loves, and madden at her charms. For the gay grape can joys celestial move, And what so sweet below as Woman's love? With such high transport every moment flies, 55 I curse Experience that he makes me wise; For at his frown the dear deliriums flew, And the changed scene now wears a gloomy hue. A hideous hag th' Enchantress Pleasure seems, And all her joys appear but feverous dreams. 60 The vain resolve still broken and still made, Disease and loathing and remorse invade; The charm is vanish'd and the bubble's broke,-- A slave to pleasure is a slave to smoke!' Such lays repentant did the Muse supply; 65 When as the Sun was hastening down the sky, In glittering state twice fifty guineas come,-- His Mother's plate antique had rais'd the sum. Forth leap'd Philedon of new life possest:-- 69 'Twas Brookes's all till two,--'twas Hackett's all the rest!

1791.

FOOTNOTES:

[24:1] First published in 1834: included in _P. and D. W._, 1877-80, and in 1893.

LINENOTES:

_Honour_] No title, but motto as above MS. O.: Philedon, Eds. 1877, 1893.

[34] Or] And MS. O.

[43-4]

Or will my Honour kindly tell the way To pay the debts

MS. O.

[60] feverous] feverish MS. O.

[70] Brookes's, a famous gaming-house in Fleet Street. Hackett's, a brothel under the Covent Garden Piazza. Note MS. O.

ON IMITATION[26:1]

All are not born to soar--and ah! how few In tracks where Wisdom leads their paths pursue! Contagious when to wit or wealth allied, Folly and Vice diffuse their venom wide. On Folly every fool his talent tries; 5 It asks some toil to imitate the wise; Tho' few like Fox can speak--like Pitt can think-- Yet all like Fox can game--like Pitt can drink.

? 1791

FOOTNOTES:

[26:1] First published in 1834. In _MS. O_ lines 3, 4 follow lines 7, 8 of the text.

INSIDE THE COACH[26:2]

'Tis hard on Bagshot Heath to try Unclos'd to keep the weary eye; But ah! Oblivion's nod to get In rattling coach is harder yet. Slumbrous God of half-shut eye! 5 Who lovest with limbs supine to lie; Soother sweet of toil and care Listen, listen to my prayer; And to thy votary dispense Thy soporific influence! 10 What tho' around thy drowsy head The seven-fold cap of night be spread, Yet lift that drowsy head awhile And yawn propitiously a smile; In drizzly rains poppean dews 15 O'er the tired inmates of the Coach diffuse; And when thou'st charm'd our eyes to rest, Pillowing the chin upon the breast, Bid many a dream from thy dominions Wave its various-painted pinions, 20 Till ere the splendid visions close We snore quartettes in ecstasy of nose. While thus we urge our airy course, O may no jolt's electric force Our fancies from their steeds unhorse, 25 And call us from thy fairy reign To dreary Bagshot Heath again!

1791.

FOOTNOTES:

[26:2] First published in 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Ode to sleep. Travelling in the Exeter Coach with three other passengers over Bagshot Heath, after some vain endeavours to compose myself I composed this Ode--August 17, 1791. MS. O.

[12] Vulgo yclept night-cap MS. O.

[13] that] thy MS. O.

DEVONSHIRE ROADS[27:1]

The indignant Bard composed this furious ode, As tired he dragg'd his way thro' Plimtree road![27:2] Crusted with filth and stuck in mire Dull sounds the Bard's bemudded lyre; Nathless Revenge and Ire the Poet goad 5 To pour his imprecations on the road.

Curst road! whose execrable way Was darkly shadow'd out in Milton's lay, When the sad fiends thro' Hell's sulphureous roads Took the first survey of their new abodes; 10 Or when the fall'n Archangel fierce Dar'd through the realms of Night to pierce, What time the Bloodhound lur'd by Human scent Thro' all Confusion's quagmires floundering went.

Nor cheering pipe, nor Bird's shrill note 15 Around thy dreary paths shall float; Their boding songs shall scritch-owls pour To fright the guilty shepherds sore, Led by the wandering fires astray Thro' the dank horrors of thy way! 20 While they their mud-lost sandals hunt May all the curses, which they grunt In raging moan like goaded hog, Alight upon thee, damnéd Bog!

1791.

FOOTNOTES:

[27:1] First published in 1834.

[27:2] Plymtree Road, August 18, 1791. _Note, MS. O._ [Plimtree is about 8 miles N. of Ottery St. Mary. S. T. C. must have left the mail coach at Cullompton to make his way home on foot.]

LINENOTES:

_Devonshire Roads_] No title MS. O.

MUSIC[28:1]

Hence, soul-dissolving Harmony That lead'st th' oblivious soul astray-- Though thou sphere-descended be-- Hence away!-- Thou mightier Goddess, thou demand'st my lay, 5 Born when earth was seiz'd with cholic; Or as more sapient sages say, What time the Legion diabolic Compell'd their beings to enshrine In bodies vile of herded swine, 10 Precipitate adown the steep With hideous rout were plunging in the deep, And hog and devil mingling grunt and yell Seiz'd on the ear with horrible obtrusion;-- Then if aright old legendaries tell, 15 Wert thou begot by Discord on Confusion!

What though no name's sonorous power Was given thee at thy natal hour!-- Yet oft I feel thy sacred might, While concords wing their distant flight. 20 Such Power inspires thy holy son Sable clerk of Tiverton! And oft where Otter sports his stream, I hear thy banded offspring scream. Thou Goddess! thou inspir'st each throat; 25 'Tis thou who pour'st the scritch-owl note! Transported hear'st thy children all Scrape and blow and squeak and squall; And while old Otter's steeple rings, Clappest hoarse thy raven wings! 30

1791.

FOOTNOTES:

[28:1] First published in 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Ode on the Ottery and Tiverton Church Music MS. O.

SONNET[29:1]

ON QUITTING SCHOOL FOR COLLEGE

Farewell parental scenes! a sad farewell! To you my grateful heart still fondly clings, Tho' fluttering round on Fancy's burnish'd wings Her tales of future Joy Hope loves to tell. Adieu, adieu! ye much-lov'd cloisters pale! 5 Ah! would those happy days return again, When 'neath your arches, free from every stain, I heard of guilt and wonder'd at the tale! Dear haunts! where oft my simple lays I sang, Listening meanwhile the echoings of my feet, 10 Lingering I quit you, with as great a pang, As when erewhile, my weeping childhood, torn By early sorrow from my native seat, Mingled its tears with hers--my widow'd Parent lorn.

1791.

FOOTNOTES:

[29:1] First published in 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet on the Same (i. e. 'Absence, A Farewell Ode,' &c.) 1834.

ABSENCE[29:2]

A FAREWELL ODE ON QUITTING SCHOOL FOR JESUS COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE

Where graced with many a classic spoil CAM rolls his reverend stream along, I haste to urge the learnéd toil That sternly chides my love-lorn song: Ah me! too mindful of the days 5 Illumed by Passion's orient rays, When Peace, and Cheerfulness and Health Enriched me with the best of wealth. Ah fair Delights! that o'er my soul On Memory's wing, like shadows fly! 10 Ah Flowers! which Joy from Eden stole While Innocence stood smiling by!-- But cease, fond Heart! this bootless moan: Those Hours on rapid Pinions flown Shall yet return, by Absence crown'd, 15 And scatter livelier roses round. The Sun who ne'er remits his fires On heedless eyes may pour the day: The Moon, that oft from Heaven retires, Endears her renovated ray. 20 What though she leave the sky unblest To mourn awhile in murky vest? When she relumes her lovely light, We bless the Wanderer of the Night.

1791.

FOOTNOTES:

[29:2] First published in _Cambridge Intelligencer_, October 11, 1794: included in 1796, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet on Quitting Christ's Hospital MS. O. Absence, A Farewell Ode 1796, 1803.

HAPPINESS[30:1]

On wide or narrow scale shall Man Most happily describe Life's plan? Say shall he bloom and wither there, Where first his infant buds appear; Or upwards dart with soaring force, 5 And tempt some more ambitious course? Obedient now to Hope's command, I bid each humble wish expand, And fair and bright Life's prospects seem. While Hope displays her cheering beam, 10 And Fancy's vivid colourings stream, While Emulation stands me nigh The Goddess of the eager eye. With foot advanc'd and anxious heart Now for the fancied goal I start:-- 15 Ah! why will Reason intervene Me and my promis'd joys between! She stops my course, she chains my speed, While thus her forceful words proceed:-- Ah! listen, Youth, ere yet too late, 20 What evils on thy course may wait! To bow the head, to bend the knee, A minion of Servility, At low Pride's frequent frowns to sigh, And watch the glance in Folly's eye; 25 To toil intense, yet toil in vain, And feel with what a hollow pain Pale Disappointment hangs her head O'er darling Expectation dead! 'The scene is changed and Fortune's gale 30 Shall belly out each prosperous sail. Yet sudden wealth full well I know Did never happiness bestow. That wealth to which we were not born Dooms us to sorrow or to scorn. 35 Behold yon flock which long had trod O'er the short grass of Devon's sod, To Lincoln's rank rich meads transferr'd, And in their fate thy own be fear'd; Through every limb contagions fly, 40 Deform'd and choked they burst and die. 'When Luxury opens wide her arms, And smiling wooes thee to those charms, Whose fascination thousands own, Shall thy brows wear the stoic frown? 45 And when her goblet she extends Which maddening myriads press around, What power divine thy soul befriends That thou should'st dash it to the ground?-- No, thou shalt drink, and thou shalt know 50 Her transient bliss, her lasting woe, Her maniac joys, that know no measure, And Riot rude and painted Pleasure;-- Till (sad reverse!) the Enchantress vile To frowns converts her magic smile; 55 Her train impatient to destroy, Observe her frown with gloomy joy; On thee with harpy fangs they seize The hideous offspring of Disease, Swoln Dropsy ignorant of Rest, 60 And Fever garb'd in scarlet vest, Consumption driving the quick hearse, And Gout that howls the frequent curse, With Apoplex of heavy head That surely aims his dart of lead. 65 'But say Life's joys unmix'd were given To thee some favourite of Heaven: Within, without, tho' all were health-- Yet what e'en thus are Fame, Power, Wealth, But sounds that variously express, 70 What's thine already--Happiness! 'Tis thine the converse deep to hold With all the famous sons of old; And thine the happy waking dream While Hope pursues some favourite theme, 75 As oft when Night o'er Heaven is spread, Round this maternal seat you tread, Where far from splendour, far from riot, In silence wrapt sleeps careless Quiet. 'Tis thine with Fancy oft to talk, 80 And thine the peaceful evening walk; And what to thee the sweetest are-- The setting sun, the Evening Star-- The tints, which live along the sky, And Moon that meets thy raptur'd eye, 85 Where oft the tear shall grateful start, Dear silent pleasures of the Heart! Ah! Being blest, for Heaven shall lend To share thy simple joys a friend! Ah! doubly blest, if Love supply 90 His influence to complete thy joy, If chance some lovely maid thou find To read thy visage in thy mind. 'One blessing more demands thy care:-- Once more to Heaven address the prayer: 95 For humble independence pray The guardian genius of thy way; Whom (sages say) in days of yore Meek Competence to Wisdom bore, So shall thy little vessel glide 100 With a fair breeze adown the tide, And Hope, if e'er thou 'ginst to sorrow, Remind thee of some fair to-morrow, Till Death shall close thy tranquil eye While Faith proclaims "Thou shalt not die!"' 105

1791.

FOOTNOTES:

[30:1] First published in 1834. The poem was sent to George Coleridge in a letter dated June 22, 1791. An adapted version of ll. 80-105 was sent to Southey, July 13, 1794.

LINENOTES:

Title] Upon the Author's leaving school and entering into Life. MS. O (c).

[6] tempt] dare MS. O, MS. O (c).

[10] While] When MS. O, MS. O (c).

[Between 11-13]

How pants my breast before my eyes While Honour WAVES her radiant prize. And Emulation, &c.

MS. O, MS. O (c).

[22] To bend the head, to bow MS. O (c).

[24] frowns] frown MS. O, MS. O (c).

[25] in] of MS. O (c).

[41] Deformed, choaked MS. O, MS. O (c).

[45] brows] brow MS. O, MS. O (c).

[55] magic] wonted MS. O, MS. O (c).

[57] her frown] the fiend MS. O, MS. O (c).

[68] Without, within MS. O, MS. O (c).

[76] is] has MS O, MS. O (c).

[77] _Note_--Christ's Hospital MS. O: Ottery S. Mary in Devonshire MS. O (c).

[80-1]

'Tis thine with faery forms to talk And thine the philosophic walk.

Letter to Southey, 1794.

[84] which] that MS. O, MS. O (c), Letter, 1794.

[85] And] The Letter, 1794.

[86] Where grateful oft the big drops start. Letter, 1794. shall] does MS. O (c).

[90-3]

Ah! doubly blest, if Love supply Lustre to this now heavy eye, And with unwonted Spirit grace That fat[32:A] vacuity of face. Or if e'en Love, the mighty Love Shall find this change his power above; Some lovely maid perchance thou'lt find To read thy visage in thy mind.

MS. O, MS. O (c).

[32:A] The Author was at this time, _aetat._ 17, remarkable for a plump face. MS. O (c).

[96-7]

But if thou pour one votive lay For humble, &c.

Letter, 1794.

[96] Not in Letter.

[101] adown Life's tide MS. O, MS. O (c).

[102-3] Not in Letter, 1794.

A WISH[33:1]

WRITTEN IN JESUS WOOD, FEB. 10, 1792

Lo! through the dusky silence of the groves, Thro' vales irriguous, and thro' green retreats, With languid murmur creeps the placid stream And works its secret way.

Awhile meand'ring round its native fields 5 It rolls the playful wave and winds its flight: Then downward flowing with awaken'd speed Embosoms in the Deep!

Thus thro' its silent tenor may my Life Smooth its meek stream by sordid wealth unclogg'd, 10 Alike unconscious of forensic storms, And Glory's blood-stain'd palm!

And when dark Age shall close Life's little day, Satiate of sport, and weary of its toils, E'en thus may slumbrous Death my decent limbs 15 Compose with icy hand!

1792.

FOOTNOTES:

[33:1] First published in 1893, from _MS. Letter to Mary Evans_, Feb. 13 [1792].

AN ODE IN THE MANNER OF ANACREON[33:2]

As late, in wreaths, gay flowers I bound, Beneath some roses Love I found; And by his little frolic pinion As quick as thought I seiz'd the minion, Then in my cup the prisoner threw, 5 And drank him in its sparkling dew: And sure I feel my angry guest Fluttering _his wings_ within my breast!

1792.

FOOTNOTES:

[33:2] First published in 1893, from _MS. Letter_, Feb. 13 [1792].

TO DISAPPOINTMENT[34:1]

Hence! thou fiend of gloomy sway, That lov'st on withering blast to ride O'er fond Illusion's air-built pride. Sullen Spirit! Hence! Away!

Where Avarice lurks in sordid cell, 5 Or mad Ambition builds the dream, Or Pleasure plots th' unholy scheme There with Guilt and Folly dwell!

But oh! when Hope on Wisdom's wing Prophetic whispers pure delight, 10 Be distant far thy cank'rous blight, Demon of envenom'd sting.

Then haste thee, Nymph of balmy gales! Thy poet's prayer, sweet May! attend! Oh! place my parent and my friend 15 'Mid her lovely native vales.

Peace, that lists the woodlark's strains, Health, that breathes divinest treasures, Laughing Hours, and Social Pleasures Wait my friend in Cambria's plains. 20

Affection there with mingled ray Shall pour at once the raptures high Of filial and maternal Joy; Haste thee then, delightful May!

And oh! may Spring's fair flowerets fade, 25 May Summer cease her limbs to lave In cooling stream, may Autumn grave Yellow o'er the corn-cloath'd glade;

Ere, from sweet retirement torn, She seek again the crowded mart: 30 Nor thou, my selfish, selfish heart Dare her slow return to mourn!

1792.

FOOTNOTES:

[34:1] First published in _Letters of Samuel Taylor Coleridge_, 1895, i. 28, 29. The lines were included in a letter to Mrs. Evans, dated February 13, 1792.

A FRAGMENT FOUND IN A LECTURE-ROOM[35:1]

Where deep in mud Cam rolls his slumbrous stream, And bog and desolation reign supreme; Where all Boeotia clouds the misty brain, The owl Mathesis pipes her loathsome strain. Far, far aloof the frighted Muses fly, 5 Indignant Genius scowls and passes by: The frolic Pleasures start amid their dance, And Wit congeal'd stands fix'd in wintry trance. But to the sounds with duteous haste repair Cold Industry, and wary-footed Care; 10 And Dulness, dosing on a couch of lead, Pleas'd with the song uplifts her heavy head, The sympathetic numbers lists awhile, Then yawns propitiously a frosty smile. . . . [Caetera desunt.]

1792.

FOOTNOTES:

[35:1] First published in _Letters of Samuel Taylor Coleridge_, 1895, i. 44. The lines were sent in a letter to the Rev. G. Coleridge, dated April [1792].

LINENOTES:

[1] slumbrous] reverend MS. E.

[5] frighted] affrighted MS. E.

[9] to] at MS. E.

[12] Sooth'd with the song uprears MS. E.

[13] The] Its MS. E.

ODE[35:2]

Ye Gales, that of the Lark's repose The impatient Silence break, To yon poor Pilgrim's wearying Woes Your gentle Comfort speak! He heard the midnight whirlwind die, 5 He saw the sun-awaken'd Sky Resume its slowly-purpling Blue: And ah! he sigh'd--that I might find The cloudless Azure of the Mind And Fortune's brightning Hue! 10 Where'er in waving Foliage hid The Bird's gay Charm ascends, Or by the fretful current chid Some giant Rock impends-- There let the lonely Cares respire 15 As small airs thrill the mourning Lyre And teach the Soul her native Calm; While Passion with a languid Eye Hangs o'er the fall of Harmony And drinks the sacred Balm. 20

Slow as the fragrant whisper creeps Along the lilied Vale, The alter'd Eye of Conquest weeps, And ruthless War grows pale Relenting that his Heart forsook 25 Soft Concord of auspicious Look, And Love, and social Poverty; The Family of tender Fears, The Sigh, that saddens and endears, And Cares, that sweeten Joy. 30

Then cease, thy frantic Tumults cease, Ambition, Sire of War! Nor o'er the mangled Corse of Peace Urge on thy scythéd Car. And oh! that Reason's voice might swell 35 With whisper'd Airs and holy Spell To rouse thy gentler Sense, As bending o'er the chilly bloom The Morning wakes its soft Perfume With breezy Influence. 40

1792.

FOOTNOTES:

[35:2] These lines, first published in the _Watchman_ (No. IV, March 25, 1796, _signed_ G. A. U. N. T.), were included in the volume of MS. Poems presented to Mrs. Estlin in April, 1795. They were never claimed by Coleridge or assigned to him, and are now collected for the first time.

LINENOTES:

Title] A Morning Effusion Watchman.

[4] Comfort] solace W.

[13] fretful] fretting MS. E.

[16] mourning] lonely W.

[17] her] its W.

[18] languid] waning W.

[19] Hangs] Bends W.

[21-2]

As slow the whisper'd measure creeps Along the steaming Vale.

W.

[24] grows] turns W.

[31] Tumults] outrage W.

[32] Thou scepter'd Demon, WAR W.

[35] oh] ah W.

[38] chilly] flowrets' W.

A LOVER'S COMPLAINT TO HIS MISTRESS[36:1]

WHO DESERTED HIM IN QUEST OF A MORE WEALTHY HUSBAND IN THE EAST INDIES

The dubious light sad glimmers o'er the sky: 'Tis silence all. By lonely anguish torn, With wandering feet to gloomy groves I fly, And wakeful Love still tracks my course forlorn.

And will you, cruel Julia! will you go? 5 And trust you to the Ocean's dark dismay? Shall the wide wat'ry world between us flow? And winds unpitying snatch my Hopes away?

Thus could you sport with my too easy heart? Yet tremble, lest not unaveng'd I grieve! 10 The winds may learn your own delusive art, And faithless Ocean smile--but to deceive!

1792.

FOOTNOTES:

[36:1] First published in 1893, from _MS. Letter_, Feb. 13 [1792].

WITH FIELDING'S 'AMELIA'[37:1]

Virtues and Woes alike too great for man In the soft tale oft claim the useless sigh; For vain the attempt to realise the plan, On Folly's wings must Imitation fly. With other aim has Fielding here display'd 5 Each social duty and each social care; With just yet vivid colouring portray'd What every wife should be, what many are. And sure the Parent[37:2] of a race so sweet With double pleasure on the page shall dwell, 10 Each scene with sympathizing breast shall meet, While Reason still with smiles delights to tell Maternal hope, that her loved progeny In all but sorrows shall Amelias be!

? 1792.

FOOTNOTES:

[37:1] First published in 1834.

[37:2] It is probable that the recipient of the _Amelia_ was the mother of Coleridge's first love, Mary Evans.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sent to Mrs. ---- with an _Amelia_. MS. O.

[10] double] doubled MS. O.

WRITTEN AFTER A WALK BEFORE SUPPER[37:3]

Tho' much averse, dear Jack, to flicker, To find a likeness for friend V--ker, I've made thro' Earth, and Air, and Sea, A Voyage of Discovery! And let me add (to ward off strife) 5 For V--ker and for V--ker's Wife-- She large and round beyond belief, A superfluity of beef! Her mind and body of a piece, And both composed of kitchen-grease. 10 In short, Dame Truth might safely dub her Vulgarity enshrin'd in blubber! He, meagre bit of littleness, All snuff, and musk, and politesse; So thin, that strip him of his clothing, 15 He'd totter on the edge of Nothing! In case of foe, he well might hide Snug in the collops of her side.

Ah then, what simile will suit? Spindle-leg in great jack-boot? 20 Pismire crawling in a rut? Or a spigot in a butt? Thus I humm'd and ha'd awhile, When Madam Memory with a smile Thus twitch'd my ear--'Why sure, I ween, 25 In London streets thou oft hast seen The very image of this pair: A little Ape with huge She-Bear Link'd by hapless chain together: An unlick'd mass the one--the other 30 An antic small with nimble crupper----' But stop, my Muse! for here comes supper.

1792.

FOOTNOTES:

[37:3] First published in 1796, and secondly in _P. and D. W._, 1877-80. These lines, described as 'A Simile', were sent in a letter to the Rev. George Coleridge, dated August 9 [1792]. The Rev. Fulwood Smerdon, the 'Vicar' of the original MS., succeeded the Rev. John Coleridge as vicar of Ottery St. Mary in 1781. He was the 'Edmund' of 'Lines to a Friend', &c., _vide post_, pp. 74, 75.

LINENOTES:

Title] Epistle iii. Written, &c., 1796.

[1] dear Jack] at folk Letter, 1792.

[2] A simile for Vicar Letter, 1792.

[6] For Vicar and for Vicar's wife Letter, 1792.

[7] large] gross Letter, 1792.

[12] enshrin'd] enclos'd

[19] will] can Letter, 1792.

[23] I ha'd and hem'd Letter, 1792.

[24] Madam] Mrs. Letter, 1792.

[28] huge] large Letter, 1792.

[29] Link'd] Tied Letter, 1792.

[31] small] lean Letter, 1792: huge 1796, 1877, 1888, 1893. For Antic huge read _antic small_ 'Errata', 1796 p. [189].

IMITATED FROM OSSIAN[38:1]

The stream with languid murmur creeps, In Lumin's _flowery_ vale: Beneath the dew the Lily weeps Slow-waving to the gale.

'Cease, restless gale!' it seems to say, 5 'Nor wake me with thy sighing! The honours of my vernal day On rapid wing are flying.

'To-morrow shall the Traveller come Who late beheld me blooming: 10 His searching eye shall vainly roam The _dreary_ vale of Lumin.'

With eager gaze and wetted cheek My wonted haunts along, Thus, faithful Maiden! _thou_ shalt seek 15 The Youth of simplest song.

But I along the breeze shall roll The voice of feeble power; And dwell, the Moon-beam of thy soul, In Slumber's nightly hour. 20

1793.

FOOTNOTES:

[38:1] First published in 1796: included in 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. The following note was attached in 1796 and 1803:--The flower hangs its [heavy] head waving at times to the gale. 'Why dost thou awake me, O Gale?' it seems to say, 'I am covered with the drops of Heaven. The time of my fading is near, the blast that shall scatter my leaves. Tomorrow shall the traveller come; he that saw me in my beauty shall come. His eyes will search the field, [but] they will not find me. So shall they search in vain for the voice of Cona, after it has failed in the field.'--Berrathon, see Ossian's _Poems_, vol. ii. [ed. 1819, p. 481].

LINENOTES:

Title] Ode MS. E.

[10] That erst, &c. MS. E.

[15] faithful] lovely MS. E.

[16] simplest] gentle MS. E.

THE COMPLAINT OF NINATHÓMA[39:1]

FROM THE SAME

How long will ye round me be swelling, O ye blue-tumbling waves of the sea? Not always in caves was my dwelling, Nor beneath the cold blast of the tree. Through the high-sounding halls of Cathlóma 5 In the steps of my beauty I strayed; The warriors beheld Ninathóma, And they blesséd the white-bosom'd Maid! A Ghost! by my cavern it darted! In moon-beams the Spirit was drest-- 10 For lovely appear the Departed When they visit the dreams of my rest! But disturb'd by the tempest's commotion Fleet the shadowy forms of delight-- Ah cease, thou shrill blast of the Ocean! 15 To howl through my cavern by night.

1793.

FOOTNOTES:

[39:1] First published in 1796: included in 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. These lines were included in a letter from Coleridge to Mary Evans, dated Feb. 7, 1793. In 1796 and 1803 the following note was attached:--'How long will ye roll around me, blue-tumbling waters of Ocean. My dwelling is not always in caves; nor beneath the whistling tree. My [The] feast is spread in Torthoma's Hall. [My father delighted in my voice.] The youths beheld me in [the steps of] my loveliness. They blessed the dark-haired Nina-thomà.'--Berrathon [Ossian's _Poems_, 1819, ii. 484].

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxx. The Complaint, &c., 1796.

[5] halls] Hall Letter, 1793.

[8] white-bosom'd] dark-tressed Letter, 1793.

[Between 8-9]

By my friends, by my Lovers discarded, Like the flower of the Rock now I waste, That lifts her fair head unregarded, And scatters its leaves on the blast.

Letter, 1793.

[13] disturb'd] dispers'd Letter, 1793.

SONGS OF THE PIXIES[40:1]

The Pixies, in the superstition of Devonshire, are a race of beings invisibly small, and harmless or friendly to man. At a small distance from a village in that county, half-way up a wood-covered hill, is an excavation called the Pixies' Parlour. The roots of old trees form its ceiling; and on its sides are innumerable cyphers, among which the author discovered his own cypher and those of his brothers, cut by the hand of their childhood. At the foot of the hill flows the river Otter.

To this place the Author, during the summer months of the year 1793, conducted a party of young ladies; one of whom, of stature elegantly small, and of complexion colourless yet clear, was proclaimed the Faery Queen. On which occasion the following Irregular Ode was written.

I

Whom the untaught Shepherds call Pixies in their madrigal, Fancy's children, here we dwell: Welcome, Ladies! to our cell. Here the wren of softest note 5 Builds its nest and warbles well; Here the blackbird strains his throat; Welcome, Ladies! to our cell.

II

When fades the moon to shadowy-pale, And scuds the cloud before the gale, 10 Ere the Morn all gem-bedight Hath streak'd the East with rosy light, We sip the furze-flower's fragrant dews Clad in robes of rainbow hues; Or sport amid the shooting gleams 15 To the tune of distant-tinkling teams, While lusty Labour scouting sorrow Bids the Dame a glad good-morrow, Who jogs the accustom'd road along, And paces cheery to her cheering song. 20

III

But not our filmy pinion We scorch amid the blaze of day, When Noontide's fiery-tresséd minion Flashes the fervid ray. Aye from the sultry heat 25 We to the cave retreat O'ercanopied by huge roots intertwin'd With wildest texture, blacken'd o'er with age: Round them their mantle green the ivies bind, Beneath whose foliage pale 30 Fann'd by the unfrequent gale We shield us from the Tyrant's mid-day rage.

IV

Thither, while the murmuring throng Of wild-bees hum their drowsy song, By Indolence and Fancy brought, 35 A youthful Bard, 'unknown to Fame,' Wooes the Queen of Solemn Thought, And heaves the gentle misery of a sigh Gazing with tearful eye, As round our sandy grot appear 40 Many a rudely-sculptur'd name To pensive Memory dear! Weaving gay dreams of sunny-tinctur'd hue, We glance before his view: O'er his hush'd soul our soothing witcheries shed 45 And twine the future garland round his head.

V

When Evening's dusky car Crown'd with her dewy star Steals o'er the fading sky in shadowy flight; On leaves of aspen trees 50 We tremble to the breeze Veil'd from the grosser ken of mortal sight. Or, haply, at the visionary hour, Along our wildly-bower'd sequester'd walk, We listen to the enamour'd rustic's talk; 55 Heave with the heavings of the maiden's breast, Where young-eyed Loves have hid their turtle nest; Or guide of soul-subduing power The glance that from the half-confessing eye Darts the fond question or the soft reply. 60

VI

Or through the mystic ringlets of the vale We flash our faery feet in gamesome prank; Or, silent-sandal'd, pay our defter court, Circling the Spirit of the Western Gale, Where wearied with his flower-caressing sport, 65 Supine he slumbers on a violet bank; Then with quaint music hymn the parting gleam By lonely Otter's sleep-persuading stream; Or where his wave with loud unquiet song Dash'd o'er the rocky channel froths along; 70 Or where, his silver waters smooth'd to rest, The tall tree's shadow sleeps upon his breast.

VII

Hence thou lingerer, Light! Eve saddens into Night. Mother of wildly-working dreams! we view 75 The sombre hours, that round thee stand With down-cast eyes (a duteous band!) Their dark robes dripping with the heavy dew. Sorceress of the ebon throne! Thy power the Pixies own, 80 When round thy raven brow Heaven's lucent roses glow, And clouds in watery colours drest Float in light drapery o'er thy sable vest: What time the pale moon sheds a softer day 85 Mellowing the woods beneath its pensive beam: For mid the quivering light 'tis ours to play, Aye dancing to the cadence of the stream.

VIII

Welcome, Ladies! to the cell Where the blameless Pixies dwell: 90 But thou, Sweet Nymph! proclaim'd our Faery Queen, With what obeisance meet Thy presence shall we greet? For lo! attendant on thy steps are seen Graceful Ease in artless stole, 95 And white-robed Purity of soul, With Honour's softer mien; Mirth of the loosely-flowing hair, And meek-eyed Pity eloquently fair, Whose tearful cheeks are lovely to the view, 100 As snow-drop wet with dew.

IX

Unboastful Maid! though now the Lily pale Transparent grace thy beauties meek; Yet ere again along the impurpling vale, The purpling vale and elfin-haunted grove, 105 Young Zephyr his fresh flowers profusely throws, We'll tinge with livelier hues thy cheek; And, haply, from the nectar-breathing Rose Extract a Blush for Love!

1793.

FOOTNOTES:

[40:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. _The Songs of the Pixies_ forms part of the volume of MS. Poems presented to Mrs. Estlin, and of a quarto MS. volume which the poet retained for his own use.

LINENOTES:

This preface appears in all editions. Previous to 1834 the second paragraph read:--To this place the Author conducted a party of young Ladies, during the Summer months of the year 1793, &c.

The Songs of the Pixies, an irregular Ode. The lower orders of the people in Devonshire have a superstition concerning the existence of 'Pixies', a race of beings supposed to be invisibly small, and harmless or friendly to man. At a small village in the county, half-way up a Hill, is a large excavation called the 'Pixies'' Parlour. The roots of the trees growing above it form the ceiling--and on its sides are engraved innumerable cyphers, among which the author descried his own and those of his Brothers, cut by the rude hand of their childhood. At the foot of the Hill flows the River Otter. To this place the Author had the Honour of conducting a party of Young Ladies during the Summer months, on which occasion the following Poem was written. MS. E.

_Note._ The emendations in ll. 9, 11, 12, 15, 16 are peculiar to the edition of 1834, and are, certainly, Coleridge's own handiwork.

[9] to] all MS. 4{o}, MS. E, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[11] Ere Morn with living gems bedight MS. 4{o}E, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[12] Hath streak'd] Purples MS. 4{o}, MS. E, 1796, 1828, 1829: Streaks 1797, 1803. rosy] streaky MS. E, 1796, 1828, 1829: purple 1797, 1803.

After l. 14 the following lines appear in MS. 4{o}, MS. E, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828:

Richer than the deepen'd bloom That glows on Summer's lily-scented (scented 1797, 1803) plume.

[15] shooting] rosy MS. 4{o}, MS. E, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[15-16] gleam . . . team MS. 4{o}, MS. E, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[16] To the tune of] Sooth'd by the MS. 4{o}, MS. E, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[20] Timing to Dobbin's foot her cheery song. MS. E, MS. 4{o} erased.

[21] our] the MS. E.

[35] By rapture-beaming Fancy brought MS. E, MS. 4{o} erased.

[37] Oft wooes MS. E: our faery garlands MS. 4{o}, MS. E, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[53-5]

Or at the silent visionary hour Along our rude sequester'd walk We list th' enamour'd Shepherd's talk.

MS. E.

Or at the silent

MS. 4{o} erased.

[54] wildly-bower'd] wild 1797, 1803.

[57] hid] built MS. 4{o}, MS. E, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[58] of] with MS. E.

[59]

The Electric Flash that from the melting eye,

MS. 4{o}, MS. E, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[60] or] and MS. E, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[61-5]

Or haply in the flower-embroider'd vale We ply our faery feet in gamesome prank; Or pay our wonted court Circling the Spirits of the Western Gale, Where tir'd with vernal sport

MS. E.

[63]

Or in deft homage pay our silent court

MS. 4{o} erased.

[68-70]

By lonely Otter's 'peace-persuading' stream Or where his frothing wave with merry song 'Dash'd o'er the rough rock lightly leaps along'

MS. E.

[68] peace-persuading stream MS. 4{o} erased.

[69-70]

Or where his waves with loud unquiet song Dash'd o'er the rocky channel froth along

MS. 4{o}, 1796 ('froths' _in text_, 'froth' _errata_).

[70] froths] froth 1828, 1829.

[75-7]

Mother of wild'ring dreams thy course pursue. With downcast eyes around thee stand The sombre Hours, a duteous band.

MS. E.

[92] obedience MS. 4{o}, 1796: Correction made in Errata.

[94] For lo! around thy MS. E.

[97] softer] gentler MS. E.

[99] meek-eyed] meekest MS. E.

[100] cheeks are] cheek is MS. E.

[104-5]

Yet ere again the impurpled vale And elfin-haunted grove

MS. 4{o}.

[104-6]

Yet ere again the purpling vale And elfin-haunted Grove Young Zephyr with fresh flowrets strews.

MS. 4{o}, MS. E.

[108] nectar-breathing] nectar-dropping MS. E.

[109] for] of MS. E.

THE ROSE[45:1]

As late each flower that sweetest blows I pluck'd, the Garden's pride! Within the petals of a Rose A sleeping Love I spied.

Around his brows a beamy wreath 5 Of many a lucent hue; All purple glow'd his cheek, beneath, Inebriate with dew.

I softly seiz'd the unguarded Power, Nor scared his balmy rest: 10 And placed him, caged within the flower, On spotless Sara's breast.

But when unweeting of the guile Awoke the prisoner sweet, He struggled to escape awhile 15 And stamp'd his faery feet.

Ah! soon the soul-entrancing sight Subdued the impatient boy! He gazed! he thrill'd with deep delight! Then clapp'd his wings for joy. 20

'And O!' he cried--'Of magic kind What charms this Throne endear! Some other Love let Venus find-- I'll fix _my_ empire _here_.'[46:1]

1793.

FOOTNOTES:

[45:1] First published in 1796, included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. A copy of this poem is written in pencil on the blank page of Langhorne's _Collins_; a note adds, 'This "Effusion" and "Kisses" were addressed to a Miss F. Nesbitt at Plymouth, whither the author accompanied his eldest brother, to whom he was paying a visit, when he was twenty-one years of age.' In a letter to his brother George, dated July 28, 1793, Coleridge writes, 'presented a moss rose to a lady. Dick Hart [George Coleridge's brother-in-law] asked if she was not afraid to put it in her bosom, as, perhaps, there might be love in it. I immediately wrote the following little ode or song or what you please to call it. [The Rose.] It is of the namby-pamby genus.' _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 54.

[46:1] _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. p. 55.

LINENOTES:

Title] On presenting a moss rose to Miss F. Nesbitt. MS. (pencil). Effusion xxvi. 1796.

[5] beamy] lucent MS. E: lucid Letter, 1793.

[6] lucent] changing MS. E: mingled Letter, 1793.

[12]

On lovely Nesbitt's breast. MS. (pencil).

On Angelina's breast. Letter, 1793.

On spotless Anna's breast. MS. E.

[Probably Anna Buclé, afterwards Mrs. Cruikshank.]

[13] But when all reckless Letter, 1793.

[14] prisoner] slumberer Letter, 1793.

[16] faery] angry Letter, 1793.

[21-2]

'And, O', he cried, 'What charms refined This magic throne endear

Letter, 1793, MS. E.

[23] Another Love may Letter, 1793.

KISSES[46:2]

Cupid, if storying Legends tell aright, Once fram'd a rich Elixir of Delight. A Chalice o'er love-kindled flames he fix'd, And in it Nectar and Ambrosia mix'd: With these the magic dews which Evening brings, 5 Brush'd from the Idalian star by faery wings: Each tender pledge of sacred Faith he join'd, Each gentler Pleasure of th' unspotted mind-- Day-dreams, whose tints with sportive brightness glow, And Hope, the blameless parasite of Woe. 10 The eyeless Chemist heard the process rise, The steamy Chalice bubbled up in sighs; Sweet sounds transpired, as when the enamour'd Dove Pours the soft murmuring of responsive Love. The finish'd work might Envy vainly blame, 15 And 'Kisses' was the precious Compound's name. With half the God his Cyprian Mother blest, And breath'd on Sara's lovelier lips the rest.

1793.

FOOTNOTES:

[46:2] First published in 1796: included in 1797 (_Supplement_), 1803, and 1844. Three MSS. are extant, (1) as included in a letter to George Coleridge, Aug. 5, 1793; (2) as written in pencil in a copy of Langhorne's _Collins_ in 1793; (3) _MS. E._ _Poems_, 1796 (Note 7, p. 181), and footnotes in 1797 and 1803, supply the original Latin:

Effinxit quondam blandum meditata laborem Basia lascivâ Cypria Diva manu. Ambrosiae succos occultâ temperat arte, Fragransque infuso nectare tingit opus. Sufficit et partem mellis, quod subdolus olim Non impune favis surripuisset Amor. Decussos violae foliis admiscet odores Et spolia aestivis plurima rapta rosis. Addit et illecebras et mille et mille lepores, Et quot Acidalius gaudia Cestus habet. Ex his composuit Dea basia; et omnia libens Invenias nitidae sparsa per ora Cloës. Carm[ina] Quad[ragesimalia], vol. ii.

LINENOTES:

Title] Cupid turn'd Chymist Letter, 1793, Pencil. The Compound MS. E: Effusion xxvi. 1796: The Composition of a Kiss 1797: Kisses 1803, 1844, 1852.

[1] storying] ancient Pencil.

[3] Chalice] cauldron Letter, 1793.

[8] gentler] gentle Pencil.

[9]

Gay Dreams whose tints with beamy brightness glow.

Letter, 1793, MS. E.

[9-10]

{ Hopes the blameless parasites of Woe And { Fond Bristol MS.

And Dreams whose tints with beamy brightness glow. Pencil, Bristol MS.

[11-12]

With joy he view'd his chymic process rise, The steaming cauldron bubbled up in sighs. Letter, 1793.

[11-12]

the chymic process rise, The steaming chalice Pencil, MS. E.

[11-12]

the chymic process rise, The charming cauldron Bristol MS.

[14] Murmuring] murmurs Letter, 1793.

Cooes the soft murmurs Pencil.

[15]

not Envy's self could blame Letter, 1793, Pencil. might blame. MS. E.

[17] With part Letter, 1793, MS. E.

[18]

on Nesbitt's lovely lips the rest. Letter, 1793, Pencil. on Mary's lovelier lips the rest. MS. E. on lovely Nesbitt's lovely lips the rest. Bristol MS.

THE GENTLE LOOK[47:1]

Thou gentle Look, that didst my soul beguile, Why hast thou left me? Still in some fond dream Revisit my sad heart, auspicious Smile! As falls on closing flowers the lunar beam: What time, in sickly mood, at parting day 5 I lay me down and think of happier years; Of joys, that glimmer'd in Hope's twilight ray, Then left me darkling in a vale of tears. O pleasant days of Hope--for ever gone! Could I recall you!--But that thought is vain. 10 Availeth not Persuasion's sweetest tone To lure the fleet-wing'd Travellers back again: Yet fair, though faint, their images shall gleam Like the bright Rainbow on a willowy stream.[48:1]

? 1793.

FOOTNOTES:

[47:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. The 'four _last_ lines' of the Sonnet as sent to Southey, on Dec. 11, 1794, were written by Lamb. _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 111, 112.

[48:1] Compare ll. 13, 14 with ll. 13, 14 of _Anna and Harland_ and ll. 17, 18 of _Recollection_. _Vide_ Appendix.

LINENOTES:

Title] Irregular Sonnet MS. E: Effusion xiv. 1796: Sonnet III. 1797, 1803: Sonnet viii. 1828, 1829, 1834: The Smile P. W. 1885: The Gentle Look P. W. 1893.

[1] Thou] O Letter, 1794.

[9] gone] flown MS. E.

[10] you] one Letter, 1794.

[13-14]

Anon they haste to everlasting Night, Nor can a Giant's arm arrest them in their flight

Letter, 1794.

On on, &c.,

MS. E.

SONNET[48:2]

TO THE RIVER OTTER

Dear native Brook! wild Streamlet of the West! How many various-fated years have past, What happy and what mournful hours, since last I skimm'd the smooth thin stone along thy breast, Numbering its light leaps! yet so deep imprest 5 Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes I never shut amid the sunny ray, But straight with all their tints thy waters rise, Thy crossing plank, thy marge with willows grey, And bedded sand that vein'd with various dyes 10 Gleam'd through thy bright transparence! On my way, Visions of Childhood! oft have ye beguil'd Lone manhood's cares, yet waking fondest sighs: Ah! that once more I were a careless Child!

? 1793.

FOOTNOTES:

[48:2] Lines 2-11 were first published in the _Watchman_, No. V, April 2, 1796, as lines 17-26 of _Recollection_. First published, as a whole, in _Selection of Sonnets_, 1796, included in 1797, 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet No. IV. To the, &c., 1797, 1803.

[3] What blissful and what anguish'd hours Watchman, S. S., 1797, 1803.

[7] ray] blaze Watchman, S. S., 1797, 1803.

[8] thy] their S. L. _Corrected in Errata_, p. [xii].

[9]

The crossing plank, and margin's willowy maze Watchman.

Thy crossing plank, thy margin's willowy maze S. S., 1797, 1803.

[11] On my way] to the gaze Watchman, S. S., 1797, 1803.

[14] Ah! that I were once more, &c. S. L. _Corrected in Errata_, p. [xii].

FIRST DRAFT

AN EFFUSION AT EVENING

WRITTEN IN AUGUST, 1792

Imagination, Mistress of my Love! Where shall mine Eye thy elfin haunt explore? Dost thou on yon rich Cloud thy pinions bright Embathe in amber-glowing Floods of Light? Or, wild of speed, pursue the track of Day 5 In other worlds to hail the morning Ray? 'Tis time to bid the faded shadowy Pleasures move On shadowy Memory's wings across the Soul of Love; And thine o'er _Winter's_ icy plains to fling Each flower, that binds the breathing Locks of _Spring_, 10 When blushing, like a bride, from primrose Bower She starts, awaken'd by the pattering Shower!

Now sheds the setting Sun a purple gleam, Aid, lovely Sorc'ress! aid the Poet's dream. With faery wand O bid my Love arise, 15 The dewy brilliance dancing in her Eyes; As erst she woke with soul-entrancing Mien The thrill of Joy extatic yet serene, When link'd with Peace I bounded o'er the Plain And Hope itself was all I knew of Pain! 20

Propitious Fancy hears the votive sigh-- The absent Maiden flashes on mine Eye! When first the matin Bird with startling Song Salutes the Sun his veiling Clouds among, { accustom'd I trace her footsteps on the { steaming Lawn, 25 I view her glancing in the gleams of Dawn! When the bent Flower beneath the night-dew weeps And on the Lake the silver Lustre sleeps, Amid the paly Radiance soft and sad She meets my lonely path in moonbeams clad. 30 With _her_ along the streamlet's brink I rove; With _her_ I list the warblings of the Grove; And seems in each low wind _her_ voice to float, Lone-whispering Pity in each soothing Note! As oft in climes beyond the western Main 35 Where boundless spreads the wildly-silent Plain, The savage Hunter, who his drowsy frame Had bask'd beneath the Sun's unclouded Flame, Awakes amid the tempest-troubled air, The Thunder's Peal and Lightning's lurid glare-- 40 Aghast he hears the rushing Whirlwind's Sweep, And sad recalls the sunny hour of Sleep! So lost by storms along Life's wild'ring Way Mine Eye reverted views that cloudless Day, When, ----! on thy banks I joy'd to rove 45 While Hope with kisses nurs'd the infant Love!

Sweet ----! where Pleasure's streamlet glides Fann'd by soft winds to curl in mimic tides; Where Mirth and Peace beguile the blameless Day; And where Friendship's fixt star beams a mellow'd Ray; 50 Where Love a crown of thornless Roses wears; Where soften'd Sorrow smiles within her tears; And Memory, with a Vestal's meek employ, Unceasing feeds the lambent flame of Joy! No more thy Sky Larks less'ning from my sight 55 Shall thrill th' attunéd Heartstring with delight; No more shall deck thy pensive Pleasures sweet With wreaths of sober hue my evening seat! Yet dear to [My] Fancy's Eye thy varied scene Of Wood, Hill, Dale and sparkling Brook between: 60 Yet sweet to [My] Fancy's Ear the warbled song, That soars on Morning's wing thy fields among!

Scenes of my Hope! the aching Eye ye leave, Like those rich Hues that paint the clouds of Eve! Tearful and saddening with the sadden'd Blaze 65 Mine Eye the gleam pursues with wistful Gaze-- Sees Shades on Shades with deeper tint impend, Till chill and damp the moonless Night descend!

1792.

LINES[51:1]

ON AN AUTUMNAL EVENING

O thou wild Fancy, check thy wing! No more Those thin white flakes, those purple clouds explore! Nor there with happy spirits speed thy flight Bath'd in rich amber-glowing floods of light; Nor in yon gleam, where slow descends the day, 5 With western peasants hail the morning ray! Ah! rather bid the perish'd pleasures move, A shadowy train, across the soul of Love! O'er Disappointment's wintry desert fling Each flower that wreath'd the dewy locks of Spring, 10 When blushing, like a bride, from Hope's trim bower She leapt, awaken'd by the pattering shower.

Now sheds the sinking Sun a deeper gleam, Aid, lovely Sorceress! aid thy Poet's dream! With faery wand O bid the Maid arise, 15 Chaste Joyance dancing in her bright-blue eyes; As erst when from the Muses' calm abode I came, with Learning's meed not unbestowed; When as she twin'd a laurel round my brow, And met my kiss, and half return'd my vow, 20 O'er all my frame shot rapid my thrill'd heart, And every nerve confess'd the electric dart.

O dear Deceit! I see the Maiden rise, Chaste Joyance dancing in her bright-blue eyes! When first the lark high-soaring swells his throat, 25 Mocks the tir'd eye, and scatters the loud note, I trace her footsteps on the accustom'd lawn, I mark her glancing mid the gleam of dawn. When the bent flower beneath the night-dew weeps And on the lake the silver lustre sleeps, 30 Amid the paly radiance soft and sad, She meets my lonely path in moon-beams clad. With her along the streamlet's brink I rove; With her I list the warblings of the grove; And seems in each low wind her voice to float 35 Lone-whispering Pity in each soothing note!

Spirits of Love! ye heard her name! Obey The powerful spell, and to my haunt repair. Whether on clust'ring pinions ye are there, Where rich snows blossom on the Myrtle-trees, 40 Or with fond languishment around my fair Sigh in the loose luxuriance of her hair; O heed the spell, and hither wing your way, Like far-off music, voyaging the breeze!

Spirits! to you the infant Maid was given 45 Form'd by the wond'rous Alchemy of Heaven! No fairer Maid does Love's wide empire know, No fairer Maid e'er heav'd the bosom's snow. A thousand Loves around her forehead fly; A thousand Loves sit melting in her eye; 50 Love lights her smile--in Joy's red nectar dips His myrtle flower, and plants it on her lips. She speaks! and hark that passion-warbled song-- Still, Fancy! still that voice, those notes prolong. As sweet as when that voice with rapturous falls 55 Shall wake the soften'd echoes of Heaven's Halls! [52:1]O (have I sigh'd) were mine the wizard's rod, Or mine the power of Proteus, changeful God! A flower-entangled Arbour I would seem To shield my Love from Noontide's sultry beam: 60 Or bloom a Myrtle, from whose od'rous boughs My Love might weave gay garlands for her brows. When Twilight stole across the fading vale, To fan my Love I'd be the Evening Gale; Mourn in the soft folds of her swelling vest, 65 And flutter my faint pinions on her breast! On Seraph wing I'd float a Dream by night, To soothe my Love with shadows of delight:-- Or soar aloft to be the Spangled Skies, And gaze upon her with a thousand eyes! 70

As when the Savage, who his drowsy frame Had bask'd beneath the Sun's unclouded flame, Awakes amid the troubles of the air, The skiey deluge, and white lightning's glare-- Aghast he scours before the tempest's sweep, 75 And sad recalls the sunny hour of sleep:-- So tossed by storms along Life's wild'ring way, Mine eye reverted views that cloudless day, When by my native brook I wont to rove, While Hope with kisses nurs'd the Infant Love. 80

Dear native brook! like Peace, so placidly Smoothing through fertile fields thy current meek! Dear native brook! where first young Poesy Stared wildly-eager in her noontide dream! Where blameless pleasures dimple Quiet's cheek, 85 As water-lilies ripple thy slow stream! Dear native haunts! where Virtue still is gay, Where Friendship's fix'd star sheds a mellow'd ray, Where Love a crown of thornless Roses wears, Where soften'd Sorrow smiles within her tears; 90 And Memory, with a Vestal's chaste employ, Unceasing feeds the lambent flame of joy! No more your sky-larks melting from the sight Shall thrill the attunéd heart-string with delight-- No more shall deck your pensive Pleasures sweet 95 With wreaths of sober hue my evening seat. Yet dear to Fancy's eye your varied scene Of wood, hill, dale, and sparkling brook between! Yet sweet to Fancy's ear the warbled song, That soars on Morning's wing your vales among. 100

Scenes of my Hope! the aching eye ye leave Like yon bright hues that paint the clouds of eve! Tearful and saddening with the sadden'd blaze Mine eye the gleam pursues with wistful gaze: Sees shades on shades with deeper tint impend, 105 Till chill and damp the moonless night descend

1793.

FOOTNOTES:

[51:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829 and 1834. In _Social Life at the English Universities_, by Christopher Wordsworth, M.A., 1874, it is recorded that this poem was read by Coleridge to a party of college friends on November 7, 1793.

[52:1] Note to line 57. Poems, 1796, pp. 183-5:--I entreat the Public's pardon for having carelessly suffered to be printed such intolerable stuff as this and the thirteen following lines. They have not the merit even of originality: as every thought is to be found in the Greek Epigrams. The lines in this poem from the 27th to the 36th, I have been told are a palpable imitation of the passage from the 355th to the 370th line of the Pleasures of Memory Part 3. I do not perceive so striking a similarity between the two passages; at all events I had written the Effusion several years before I had seen M{r} Rogers' Poem.--It may be proper to remark that the tale of Florio in the 'Pleasures of Memory' is to be found in Lochleven, a poem of great merit by Michael Bruce.--In M{r} Rogers' Poem[52:A] the names are Florio and Julia; in the Lochleven Lomond and Levina--and this is all the difference. We seize the opportunity of transcribing from the Lochleven of Bruce the following exquisite passage, expressing the effects of a fine day on the human heart.

Fat on the plain, and mountain's sunny side Large droves of oxen and the fleecy flocks Feed undisturb'd; and fill the echoing air With Music grateful to their [the] Master's ear. The Traveller stops and gazes round and round O'er all the plains [scenes] that animate his heart With mirth and music. Even the mendicant Bow-bent with age, that on the old gray stone Sole-sitting suns him in the public way, Feels his heart leap, and to himself he sings. [_Poems_ by Michael Bruce, 1796, p. 94.]

[52:A] For Coleridge's retractation of the charge of plagiarism and apology to Rogers see 'Advertisement to Supplement of 1797', pp. 244, 245.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxxvi. Written in Early Youth, The Time, An Autumnal Evening 1796: Written in etc. 1803: An Effusion on an Autumnal Evening. Written in Early Youth 1797 (Supplement).

A first draft, headed 'An Effusion at Evening, Written in August, 1792' is included in the MS. volume presented to Mrs. Estlin in April, 1795 (_vide ante_, pp. 49, 50).

[28] gleam] gleams 1796, 1797, 1803, 1893.

[51-3]

in Joy's bright nectar dips The flamy rose, and plants it on her lips! Tender, serene, and all devoid of guile, Soft is her soul, as sleeping infants' smile. She speaks, &c.

1796, 1803.

[54] still those mazy notes 1796, 1803.

[55-6]

Sweet as th' angelic harps, whose rapturous falls Awake the soften'd echoes of Heaven's Halls.

1796, 1803.

[86] thy] a 1796, 1803.

TO FORTUNE[54:1]

TO THE EDITOR OF THE 'MORNING CHRONICLE'

SIR,--The following poem you may perhaps deem admissible into your journal--if not, you will commit it εἰς ἱερὸν μένος Ἡφαίστοιο.--I am, with more respect and gratitude than I ordinarily feel for Editors of Papers, your obliged, &c., CANTAB.--S. T. C.

TO FORTUNE

_On buying a Ticket in the Irish Lottery_

Composed during a walk to and from the Queen's Head, Gray's Inn Lane, Holborn, and Hornsby's and Co., Cornhill.

Promptress of unnumber'd sighs, O snatch that circling bandage from thine eyes! O look, and smile! No common prayer Solicits, Fortune! thy propitious care! For, not a silken son of dress, 5 I clink the gilded chains of _politesse_, Nor ask thy boon what time I scheme Unholy Pleasure's frail and feverish dream; Nor yet my view life's _dazzle_ blinds-- Pomp!--Grandeur! Power!--I give you to the winds! 10 Let the little bosom cold Melt only at the sunbeam ray of gold-- My pale cheeks glow--the big drops start-- The rebel _Feeling_ riots at my heart! And if in lonely durance pent, 15 Thy poor mite mourn a brief imprisonment-- That mite at Sorrow's faintest sound Leaps from its scrip with an elastic bound! But oh! if ever song thine ear Might soothe, O haste with fost'ring hand to rear 20 One Flower of Hope! At Love's behest, Trembling, I plac'd it in my secret breast: And thrice I've view'd the vernal gleam, Since oft mine eye, with Joy's electric beam, Illum'd it--and its sadder hue 25 Oft moisten'd with the Tear's ambrosial dew! Poor wither'd floweret! on its head Has dark Despair his sickly mildew shed! But thou, O Fortune! canst relume Its deaden'd tints--and thou with hardier bloom 30 May'st haply tinge its beauties pale, And yield the unsunn'd stranger to the western gale!

1793.

FOOTNOTES:

[54:1] First published, _Morning Chronicle_, Nov. 7, 1793. First collected 1893.

PERSPIRATION. A TRAVELLING ECLOGUE[56:1]

The dust flies smothering, as on clatt'ring wheel Loath'd Aristocracy careers along; The distant track quick vibrates to the eye, And white and dazzling undulates with heat, Where scorching to the unwary traveller's touch, 5 The stone fence flings its narrow slip of shade; Or, where the worn sides of the chalky road Yield their scant excavations (sultry grots!), Emblem of languid patience, we behold The fleecy files faint-ruminating lie. 10

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[56:1] First published, _Letters of Samuel Taylor Coleridge_, 1895, i. 73, 74. The lines were sent in a letter to Southey, dated July 6, 1794.

[AVE, ATQUE VALE!][56:2]

Vivit sed mihi non vivit--nova forte marita, Ah dolor! alterius carâ a cervice pependit. Vos, malefida valete accensae insomnia mentis, Littora amata valete! Vale, ah! formosa Maria!

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[56:2] First published, _Biog. Lit._ 1847, Biog. Supplement, ii. 340. This Latin quatrain was sent in a letter to Southey, dated July 13, 1794.

ON BALA HILL[56:3]

With many a weary step at length I gain Thy summit, Bala! and the cool breeze plays Cheerily round my brow--as hence the gaze Returns to dwell upon the journey'd plain.

'Twas a long way and tedious!--to the eye 5 Tho' fair th' extended Vale, and fair to view The falling leaves of many a faded hue That eddy in the wild gust moaning by!

Ev'n so it far'd with Life! in discontent Restless thro' Fortune's mingled scenes I went, 10 Yet wept to think they would return no more! O cease fond heart! in such sad thoughts to roam, For surely thou ere long shalt reach thy home, And pleasant is the way that lies before.

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[56:3] First published (as Coleridge's) in 1893, from an unsigned autograph MS. found among the Evans Papers. The lines are all but identical with Southey's Sonnet to Lansdown Hill (Sonnet viii), dated 1794, and first published in 1797, and were, probably, his composition. See _Athenaeum_, January 11, 1896.

LINENOTES:

[2] Bala] Lansdown Poems, 1797.

[3] Cheerily] Gratefully Poems, 1797.

[12] O] But Poems, 1797.

LINES[57:1]

WRITTEN AT THE KING'S ARMS, ROSS, FORMERLY THE HOUSE OF THE 'MAN OF ROSS'

Richer than Miser o'er his countless hoards, Nobler than Kings, or king-polluted Lords, Here dwelt the MAN OF ROSS! O Traveller, hear! Departed Merit claims a reverent tear. Friend to the friendless, to the sick man health, 5 With generous joy he view'd his modest wealth; He heard the widow's heaven-breath'd prayer of praise, He mark'd the shelter'd orphan's tearful gaze, Or where the sorrow-shrivell'd captive lay, Pour'd the bright blaze of Freedom's noon-tide ray. 10 Beneath this roof if thy cheer'd moments pass, Fill to the good man's name one grateful glass: To higher zest shall Memory wake thy soul, And Virtue mingle in the ennobled bowl. But if, like me, through Life's distressful scene 15 Lonely and sad thy pilgrimage hath been; And if thy breast with heart-sick anguish fraught, Thou journeyest onward tempest-tossed in thought; Here cheat thy cares! in generous visions melt, And _dream_ of Goodness, thou hast never felt! 20

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[57:1] First published in the _Cambridge Intelligencer_, September 27, 1794: included in _A Pedestrian Tour through North Wales_. By J. Hucks, 1795, p. 15: 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

In a letter to Southey dated July 13, 1794, Coleridge writes:--'At Ross . . . we took up our quarters at the King's Arms, once the house of Kyrle, the Man of Ross. I gave the window-shutter the following effusion--"Richer than Misers" etc.' J. Hucks, in his _Tour_, 1795, p. 15, writes to the same effect. There are but slight variations in the text as printed in the _Cambridge Intelligencer_ and in Hucks' _Tour_. In 1796 lines 5-10 of the text, which were included in _A Monody on the Death of Chatterton_ (1796), are omitted, and the poem numbered only fourteen lines. In 1797 lines 5-10 were restored to the _Man of Ross_ and omitted from the _Monody_. The poem numbered twenty lines. In 1803 lines 5-10 were again omitted from the _Man of Ross_, but not included in the _Monody_. The poem numbered fourteen lines. The text of 1828, 1829 is almost identical with that of 1834.

Four MS. versions are extant, (1) the Letter to Southey, July 13, 1794; (2) the Estlin Copy-book; (3) the Morrison MSS.; (4) the MS. 4{o} Copy-book.

LINENOTES:

Title] Written . . . Mr. Kyrle, 'the Man of Ross'. MS. E.

[1] Misers o'er their Letter, 1794, J. H., MS. E, 1808.

[4] the glistening tear Letter, 1794: a] the J. H., MS. E. Lines 5-10 are not in MS. 4{o}, 1796, 1803: in 1797 they follow l. 14 of the text.

[5] to the poor man wealth, Morrison MSS.

[7] heard] hears 1797, 1828, 1829.

[8] mark'd] marks 1797, 1828.

[9] And o'er the dowried maiden's glowing cheek, Letter, 1794, Morrison MSS.: virgin's snowy cheek, J. H., MS. E.

[10] Bade bridal love suffuse its blushes meek. Letter, 1794, MS. E, Morrison MSS. Pour'd] Pours 1797, 1828, 1829.

[11] If 'neath this roof thy wine cheer'd moments pass Letter, J. H., MS. E, MS. 4{o}, 1803.

[14] ennobled] sparkling Letter, 1794.

[15] me] mine 1803.

IMITATED FROM THE WELSH[58:1]

If while my passion I impart, You deem my words untrue, O place your hand upon my heart-- Feel how it throbs for _you_!

Ah no! reject the thoughtless claim 5 In pity to your Lover! That thrilling touch would aid the flame It wishes to discover.

? 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[58:1] First published in 1796: included in 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Song MS. E: Effusion xxxi. Imitated &c., 1796.

LINES[58:2]

TO A BEAUTIFUL SPRING IN A VILLAGE

Once more! sweet Stream! with slow foot wandering near, I bless thy milky waters cold and clear. Escap'd the flashing of the noontide hours, With one fresh garland of Pierian flowers (Ere from thy zephyr-haunted brink I turn) 5 My languid hand shall wreath thy mossy urn. For not through pathless grove with murmur rude Thou soothest the sad wood-nymph, Solitude; Nor thine unseen in cavern depths to well, The Hermit-fountain of some dripping cell! 10 Pride of the Vale! thy useful streams supply The scatter'd cots and peaceful hamlet nigh. The elfin tribe around thy friendly banks With infant uproar and soul-soothing pranks, Releas'd from school, their little hearts at rest, 15 Launch paper navies on thy waveless breast. The rustic here at eve with pensive look Whistling lorn ditties leans upon his crook, Or, starting, pauses with hope-mingled dread To list the much-lov'd maid's accustom'd tread: 20 She, vainly mindful of her dame's command, Loiters, the long-fill'd pitcher in her hand.

Unboastful Stream! thy fount with pebbled falls The faded form of past delight recalls, What time the morning sun of Hope arose, 25 And all was joy; save when another's woes A transient gloom upon my soul imprest, Like passing clouds impictur'd on thy breast. Life's current then ran sparkling to the noon, Or silvery stole beneath the pensive Moon: 30 Ah! now it works rude brakes and thorns among, Or o'er the rough rock bursts and foams along!

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[58:2] First published in 1796: included in _Annual Register_, 1796: 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Lines addressed to a Spring in Village of Kirkhampton near Bath MS. E.

[7] groves in murmurs MS. E.

[21-2]

And now essays his simple Faith to prove By all the soft solicitudes of Love.

MS. E.

[30] Or silver'd its smooth course beneath the Moon. MS. 4{o}.

[31] rude] the thorny MS. 4{o} erased.

For ll. 29-32

But ah! too brief in Youths' enchanting reign, Ere Manhood wakes th' unweeting heart to pain, Silent and soft thy silver waters glide: So glided Life, a smooth and equal Tide. Sad Change! for now by choking Cares withstood It hardly bursts its way, a turbid, boist'rous Flood!

MS. E.

IMITATIONS

AD LYRAM[59:1]

(CASIMIR, BOOK II. ODE 3)

The solemn-breathing air is ended-- Cease, O Lyre! thy kindred lay! From the poplar-branch suspended Glitter to the eye of Day!

On thy wires hov'ring, dying, 5 Softly sighs the summer wind: I will slumber, careless lying, By yon waterfall reclin'd.

In the forest hollow-roaring Hark! I hear a deep'ning sound-- 10 Clouds rise thick with heavy low'ring! See! th' horizon blackens round!

Parent of the soothing measure, Let me seize thy wetted string! Swiftly flies the flatterer, Pleasure, 15 Headlong, ever on the wing.[60:1]

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[59:1] First published in the _Watchman_, No. II, March 9, 1796: included in _Literary Remains_, 1836, I. 41-3. First collected in 1844.

[60:1] If we except Lucretius and Statius, I know not of any Latin poet, ancient or modern, who has equalled Casimir in boldness of conception, opulence of fancy, or beauty of versification. The Odes of this illustrious Jesuit were translated into English about 150 years ago, by a Thomas Hill, I think, [--by G. H. [G. Hils.] London, 1646. 12mo. _Ed. L. R._ 1836. I never saw the translation. A few of the Odes have been translated in a very animated manner by Watts. I have subjoined the third ode of the second book, which, with the exception of the first line, is an effusion of exquisite elegance. In the imitation attempted, I am sensible that I have destroyed the _effect of suddenness_, by translating into two stanzas what is one in the original.

AD LYRAM.

Sonori buxi Filia sutilis, Pendebis alta, Barbite, populo, Dum ridet aer, et supinas Solicitat levis aura frondes: Te sibilantis lenior halitus Perflabit Euri: me iuvet interim Collum reclinasse, et virenti Sic temere iacuisse ripa. Eheu! serenum quae nebulae tegunt Repente caelum! quis sonus imbrium! Surgamus--heu semper fugaci Gaudia praeteritura passu!

'Advertisement' to _Ad Lyram_, in _Watchman_, II, March 9, 1796.

LINENOTES:

Title] Song. [_Note._ Imitated from Casimir.] MS. E.

TO LESBIA[60:2]

Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus. CATULLUS.

My Lesbia, let us love and live, And to the winds, my Lesbia, give Each cold restraint, each boding fear Of age and all her saws severe. Yon sun now posting to the main 5 Will set,--but 'tis to rise again;-- But we, when once our mortal light Is set, must sleep in endless night. Then come, with whom alone I'll live, A thousand kisses take and give! 10 Another thousand!--to the store Add hundreds--then a thousand more! And when they to a million mount, Let confusion take the account,-- That you, the number never knowing, 15 May continue still bestowing-- That I for joys may never pine, Which never can again be mine!

? 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[60:2] First published in the _Morning Post_, April 11, 1798: included in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 274. First collected in _P. W._, 1893.

LINENOTES:

Title] Lines imitated from Catullus. M. P.

[4] her] its L. R.

[7] mortal] little L. R.

[18] _signed_ Mortimer M. P.

THE DEATH OF THE STARLING[61:1]

Lugete, O Veneres, Cupidinesque.--CATULLUS.

Pity! mourn in plaintive tone The lovely starling dead and gone! Pity mourns in plaintive tone The lovely starling dead and gone. Weep, ye Loves! and Venus! weep 5 The lovely starling fall'n asleep! Venus sees with tearful eyes-- In her lap the starling lies! While the Loves all in a ring Softly stroke the stiffen'd wing. 10

? 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[61:1] First published, _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 274. First collected, _P. W._, 1893. The titles 'Lesbia' and 'The Death of the Starling' first appear in 1893.

LINENOTES:

[7] sees] see L. R.

MORIENS SUPERSTITI[61:2]

The hour-bell sounds, and I must go; Death waits--again I hear him calling;-- No cowardly desires have I, Nor will I shun his face appalling. I die in faith and honour rich-- 5 But ah! I leave behind my treasure In widowhood and lonely pain;-- To live were surely then a pleasure!

My lifeless eyes upon thy face Shall never open more to-morrow; 10 To-morrow shall thy beauteous eyes Be closed to Love, and drown'd in Sorrow; To-morrow Death shall freeze this hand, And on thy breast, my wedded treasure, I never, never more shall live;-- 15 Alas! I quit a life of pleasure.

FOOTNOTES:

[61:2] First published in the _Morning Post_, May 10, 1798, with a prefatory note:--'The two following verses from the French, never before published, were written by a French Prisoner as he was preparing to go to the Guillotine': included in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 275. First collected _P. W._, 1893.

MORIENTI SUPERSTES

Yet art thou happier far than she Who feels the widow's love for thee! For while her days are days of weeping, Thou, in peace, in silence sleeping, In some still world, unknown, remote, 5 The mighty parent's care hast found, Without whose tender guardian thought No sparrow falleth to the ground.

? 1794.

THE SIGH[62:1]

When Youth his faery reign began Ere Sorrow had proclaim'd me man; While Peace the present hour beguil'd, And all the lovely Prospect smil'd; Then Mary! 'mid my lightsome glee 5 I heav'd the painless Sigh for thee.

And when, along the waves of woe, My harass'd Heart was doom'd to know The frantic burst of Outrage keen, And the slow Pang that gnaws unseen; 10 Then shipwreck'd on Life's stormy sea I heaved an anguish'd Sigh for thee!

But soon Reflection's power imprest A stiller sadness on my breast; And sickly Hope with waning eye 15 Was well content to droop and die: I yielded to the stern decree, Yet heav'd a languid Sigh for thee!

And though in distant climes to roam, A wanderer from my native home, 20 I fain would soothe the sense of Care, And lull to sleep the Joys that were! Thy Image may not banish'd be-- Still, Mary! still I sigh for thee.

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[62:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829. Coleridge dated the poem, June 1794, but the verses as sent to Southey, in a letter dated November, 1794 (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 100, 101), could not have taken shape before the August of that year, after the inception of Pantisocracy and his engagement to Sarah Fricker.

LINENOTES:

Title] Ode MS. E: Song Letter, Nov. 1794, Morrison MSS.: Effusion xxxii: The Sigh 1796.

[7] along th'] as tossed on 1803. waves] wilds Letter, 1794, MS. E.

[9] of] the 1803.

[13] power] hand Letter, Nov. 1794, MS. E.

[18] a] the Letter, 1794.

[21-2]

I fain would woo a gentle Fair To soothe the aching sense of Care

Letter, Nov. 1794.

[21] sense of] aching MS. E.

[Below l. 24] June 1794 Poems, 1796.

THE KISS[63:1]

One kiss, dear Maid! I said and sigh'd-- Your scorn the little boon denied. Ah why refuse the blameless bliss? Can danger lurk within a kiss?

Yon viewless wanderer of the vale, 5 The Spirit of the Western Gale, At Morning's break, at Evening's close Inhales the sweetness of the Rose, And hovers o'er the uninjur'd bloom Sighing back the soft perfume. 10 Vigour to the Zephyr's wing Her nectar-breathing kisses fling; And He the glitter of the Dew Scatters on the Rose's hue. Bashful lo! she bends her head, 15 And darts a blush of deeper Red!

Too well those lovely lips disclose The triumphs of the opening Rose; O fair! O graceful! bid them prove As passive to the breath of Love. 20 In tender accents, faint and low, Well-pleas'd I hear the whisper'd 'No!' The whispered 'No'--how little meant! Sweet Falsehood that endears Consent! For on those lovely lips the while 25 Dawns the soft relenting smile, And tempts with feign'd dissuasion coy The gentle violence of Joy.

? 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[63:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Ode MS. E: Effusion xxviii 1796: The Kiss 1797, 1828, 1829, 1834: To Sara 1803. _MSS. of_ The Kiss _are included in the Estlin volume and in S. T. C.'s quarto copy-book_.

[11-15]

Vigor to his languid wing The Rose's fragrant kisses bring, And He o'er all her brighten'd hue Flings the glitter of the dew. See she bends her bashful head.

MS. E.

[13-14]

And He o'er all her brighten'd hue Sheds the glitter of the dew.

MS. 4{o} erased.

[18] The fragrant triumphs of the Rose. MS. E.

[26] Dawns] Dawn'd MS. E.

[27] And] That MS. E.

TO A YOUNG LADY[64:1]

WITH A POEM ON THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

Much on my early youth I love to dwell, Ere yet I bade that friendly dome farewell, Where first, beneath the echoing cloisters pale, I heard of guilt and wonder'd at the tale! Yet though the hours flew by on careless wing, 5 Full heavily of Sorrow would I sing. Aye as the Star of Evening flung its beam In broken radiance on the wavy stream, My soul amid the pensive twilight gloom Mourn'd with the breeze, O Lee Boo![64:2] o'er thy tomb. 10 Where'er I wander'd, Pity still was near, Breath'd from the heart and glisten'd in the tear: No knell that toll'd but fill'd my anxious eye, And suffering Nature wept that _one_ should die![65:1]

Thus to sad sympathies I sooth'd my breast, 15 Calm, as the rainbow in the weeping West: When slumbering Freedom roused by high Disdain With giant Fury burst her triple chain! Fierce on her front the blasting Dog-star glow'd; Her banners, like a midnight meteor, flow'd; 20 Amid the yelling of the storm-rent skies! She came, and scatter'd battles from her eyes! Then Exultation waked the patriot fire And swept with wild hand the Tyrtaean lyre: Red from the Tyrant's wound I shook the lance, 25 And strode in joy the reeking plains of France!

Fallen is the Oppressor, friendless, ghastly, low, And my heart aches, though Mercy struck the blow. With wearied thought once more I seek the shade, Where peaceful Virtue weaves the Myrtle braid. 30 And O! if Eyes whose holy glances roll, Swift messengers, and eloquent of soul; If Smiles more winning, and a gentler Mien Than the love-wilder'd Maniac's brain hath seen Shaping celestial forms in vacant air, 35 If these demand the empassion'd Poet's care-- If Mirth and soften'd Sense and Wit refined, The blameless features of a lovely mind; Then haply shall my trembling hand assign No fading wreath to Beauty's saintly shrine. 40 Nor, Sara! thou these early flowers refuse-- Ne'er lurk'd the snake beneath their simple hues; No purple bloom the Child of Nature brings From Flattery's night-shade: as he feels he sings.

_September_ 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[64:1] First published in _The Watchman_, No. I, March 1, 1796: included in 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. Three MSS. are extant: (1) the poem as sent to Southey in a letter dated Oct. 21, 1794 (see _Letters of S. T. C._, 1855, i. 94, 95); (2) the Estlin volume; (3) the MS. 4{o} copy-book.

[64:2] Lee Boo, the son of Abba Thule, Prince of the Pelew Islands, came over to England with Captain Wilson, died of the small-pox, and is buried in Greenwich churchyard. See Keate's _Account of the Pelew Islands_. 1788.

[65:1] And suffering Nature, &c. Southey's _Retrospect_.

'When eager patriots fly the news to spread Of glorious conquest, and of thousands dead; All feel the mighty glow of victor joy--

* * * * *

But if extended on the gory plain, And, snatch'd in conquest, some lov'd friend be slain, Affection's tears will dim the sorrowing eye, And suffering Nature grieve that one should die.'

From the _Retrospect_ by Robert Southey, published by Dilly [1795, pp. 9, 10]. _MS. 4{o}._

LINENOTES:

Title] Verses addressed to a Lady with a poem relative to a recent event in the French Revolution MS. E.

[2] friendly] guardian MS. Letter, 1794, MS. E.

[3] cloisters] cloister MS. E.

[5] careless] rosy MS. E.

[9] My pensive soul amid the twilight gloom MS. Letter, 1794.

[10] Boo] Bo MS. E.

[12] glisten'd] glitter'd MS. Letter, 1794.

[13] anxious] anguish'd MS. Letter, 1794.

[16] Calm] Bright MS. E.

[17] by] with 1829.

[23] waked] woke MS. Letter, 1794, MS. E.

[24] with wilder hand th' empassion'd lyre MS. Letter, 1794: with wilder hand th' Alcaean lyre MS. 4{o}, MS. E, Watchman, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[25] wound] wounds MS. Letter, 1794.

[27] In ghastly horror lie th' Oppressors low MS. Letter, 1794, MS. E, MS. 4{o}, 1796, Watchman.

[29] With sad and wearied thought I seek the shade MS. E: With wearied thought I seek the amaranth shade MS. Letter, 1794.

[30] the] her MS. Letter, 1794, MS. E.

[32] The eloquent messengers of the pure soul MS. Letter, 1794, MS. E, MS. 4{o}, Watchman, 1796.

[33] winning] cunning MS. Letter, 1794.

[36] empassion'd] wond'ring MS. Letter, 1794.

[40] wreath] flowers MS. Letter, 1794, MS. E.

[41-4]

Nor, Brunton! thou the blushing-wreath refuse, Though harsh her notes, yet guileless is my Muse. Unwont at Flattery's Voice to plume her wings, A Child of Nature, as she feels she sings.

MS. Letter, 1794.

Nor ----! thou the blushing wreath refuse Tho' harsh her song, yet guileless is the Muse. Unwont &c.

MS. E.

[42-4]

No Serpent lurks beneath their simple hues. No purple blooms from Flattery's nightshade brings, The Child of Nature--as he feels he sings.

MS. 4{o} erased.

[43-4]

Nature's pure Child from Flatt'ry's night-shade brings No blooms rich-purpling: as he feels he sings.

MS. 4{o}.

[Below l. 44] September, 1794 1797, 1803: September 1792 1828, 1829, 1834.

TRANSLATION[66:1]

OF WRANGHAM'S 'HENDECASYLLABI AD BRUNTONAM E GRANTA EXITURAM' [KAL. OCT. MDCCXC]

Maid of unboastful charms! whom white-robed Truth Right onward guiding through the maze of youth, Forbade the Circe Praise to witch thy soul, And dash'd to earth th' intoxicating bowl: Thee meek-eyed Pity, eloquently fair, 5 Clasp'd to her bosom with a mother's care; And, as she lov'd thy kindred form to trace, The slow smile wander'd o'er her pallid face.

For never yet did mortal voice impart Tones more congenial to the sadden'd heart: 10 Whether, to rouse the sympathetic glow, Thou pourest lone Monimia's tale of woe; Or haply clothest with funereal vest The bridal loves that wept in Juliet's breast. O'er our chill limbs the thrilling Terrors creep, 15 Th' entrancéd Passions their still vigil keep; While the deep sighs, responsive to the song, Sound through the silence of the trembling throng.

But purer raptures lighten'd from thy face, And spread o'er all thy form an holier grace, 20 When from the daughter's breasts the father drew The life he gave, and mix'd the big tear's dew. Nor was it thine th' heroic strain to roll With mimic feelings foreign from the soul: Bright in thy parent's eye we mark'd the tear; 25 Methought he said, 'Thou art no Actress here! A semblance of thyself the _Grecian_ dame, And Brunton and Euphrasia still the same!'

O soon to seek the city's busier scene, Pause thee awhile, thou chaste-eyed maid serene, 30 Till Granta's sons from all her sacred bowers With grateful hand shall weave Pierian flowers To twine a fragrant chaplet round thy brow, Enchanting ministress of virtuous woe!

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[66:1] First published in _Poems_, by Francis Wrangham, London, 1795, pp. 79-83. First collected in _P. and D. W._, 1880, ii. 360* (_Supplement_).

TO MISS BRUNTON[67:1]

WITH THE PRECEDING TRANSLATION

That darling of the Tragic Muse, When Wrangham sung her praise, Thalia lost her rosy hues, And sicken'd at her lays:

But transient was th' unwonted sigh; 5 For soon the Goddess spied A sister-form of mirthful eye, And danc'd for joy and cried:

'Meek Pity's sweetest child, proud dame, The fates have given to you! 10 Still bid your Poet boast her name; _I_ have _my_ Brunton too.'

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[67:1] First published in _Poems_, by Francis Wrangham, 1795, p. 83. First collected in _P. and D. W._, 1880, ii. 362* (_Supplement_).

EPITAPH ON AN INFANT[68:1]

Ere Sin could blight or Sorrow fade, Death came with friendly care: The opening Bud to Heaven convey'd, And bade it blossom _there_.

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[68:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, September 23, 1794: included in _The Watchman_, No. IX, May 5, 1796, _Poems_ 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. These well-known lines, which vexed the soul of Charles Lamb, were probably adapted from 'An Epitaph on an Infant' in the churchyard of Birchington, Kent (_A Collection of Epitaphs_, 1806, i. 219):--

Ah! why so soon, just as the bloom appears, Drops the fair blossom in the vale of tears? Death view'd the treasure in the desart given And claim'd the right of planting it in Heav'n.

In _MS. E_ a Greek version (possibly a rejected prize epigram) is prefixed with the accompanying footnote.

Ηλυες εἰς αιδην, καὶ δή τυ ποθεῦσι τοκηες: Ηλυες αδυ βρεφος! τοι βραχυ δυνε φαος. Ομμα μεν εις σεο σῆμα Πατηρ πικρον ποτιβαλλει Ευσεβεης δε Θεῳ δωρα διδωσιν ἑα![68:A]

[68:A] Translation of the Greek Epitaph. 'Thou art gone down into the Grave, and heavily do thy Parents feel the Loss. Thou art gone down into the Grave, sweet Baby! Thy short Light is set! Thy Father casts an Eye of Anguish towards thy Tomb--yet with uncomplaining Piety resigns to God his own Gift!'

Equal or Greater simplicity marks all the writings of the Greek Poets.--The above [i. e. the Greek] Epitaph was written in Imitation of them. [S. T. C.]

PANTISOCRACY[68:2]

No more my visionary soul shall dwell On joys that were; no more endure to weigh The shame and anguish of the evil day, Wisely forgetful! O'er the ocean swell Sublime of Hope, I seek the cottag'd dell 5 Where Virtue calm with careless step may stray, And dancing to the moonlight roundelay, The wizard Passions weave an holy spell. Eyes that have ach'd with Sorrow! Ye shall weep Tears of doubt-mingled joy, like theirs who start 10 From Precipices of distemper'd sleep, On which the fierce-eyed Fiends their revels keep, And see the rising Sun, and feel it dart New rays of pleasance trembling to the heart.

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[68:2] First published in the _Life and Correspondence of R. Southey_, 1849, i. 224. First collected 1852 (Notes). Southey includes the sonnet in a letter to his brother Thomas dated Oct. 19, 1794, and attributes the authorship to Coleridge's friend S. Favell, with whom he had been in correspondence. He had already received the sonnet in a letter from Coleridge (dated Sept. 18, 1794), who claims it for his own and apologizes for the badness of the poetry. The octave was included (ll. 129-36) in the second version of the _Monody on the Death of Chatterton_, first printed in Lancelot Sharpe's edition of the _Poems_ of Chatterton published at Cambridge in 1794. Mrs. H. N. Coleridge (_Poems_, 1852, p. 382) prints the sonnet and apologizes for the alleged plagiarism. It is difficult to believe that either the first eight or last six lines of the sonnet were not written by Coleridge. It is included in the MS. volume of Poems which Coleridge presented to Mrs. Estlin in 1795. The text is that of _Letter Sept. 18, 1794_.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet MS. E.

[1] my] the MS. E.

[8] Passions weave] Passion wears Letter, Oct. 19 1794, 1852.

[9] Sorrow] anguish Letter, Oct. 19 1794, 1852.

[10] like theirs] as those Letter, Oct. 19 1794, 1852: as they, MS. E.

[13] feel] find Letter, Oct. 19 1794, 1852.

[14] pleasance] pleasure Letter, Oct. 19 1794, 1852.

ON THE PROSPECT OF ESTABLISHING A PANTISOCRACY IN AMERICA[69:1]

Whilst pale Anxiety, corrosive Care, The tear of Woe, the gloom of sad Despair, And deepen'd Anguish generous bosoms rend;-- Whilst patriot souls their country's fate lament; Whilst mad with rage demoniac, foul intent, 5 Embattled legions Despots vainly send To arrest the immortal mind's expanding ray Of everlasting Truth;--I other climes Where dawns, with hope serene, a brighter day Than e'er saw Albion in her happiest times, 10 With mental eye exulting now explore, And soon with kindred minds shall haste to enjoy (Free from the ills which here our peace destroy) Content and Bliss on Transatlantic shore.

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[69:1] First published in the _Co-operative Magazine and Monthly Herald_, March 6, 1826, and reprinted in the _Athenæum_, Nov. 5, 1904. First collected in 1907. It has been conjectured, but proof is wanting, that the sonnet was written by Coleridge.

ELEGY[69:2]

IMITATED FROM ONE OF AKENSIDE'S BLANK-VERSE INSCRIPTIONS [(No.) III.]

Near the lone pile with ivy overspread, Fast by the rivulet's sleep-persuading sound, Where 'sleeps the moonlight' on yon verdant bed-- O humbly press that consecrated ground!

For there does Edmund rest, the learnéd swain! 5 And there his spirit most delights to rove: Young Edmund! fam'd for each harmonious strain, And the sore wounds of ill-requited Love.

Like some tall tree that spreads its branches wide, And loads the West-wind with its soft perfume, 10 His manhood blossom'd; till the faithless pride Of fair Matilda sank him to the tomb.

But soon did righteous Heaven her Guilt pursue! Where'er with wilder'd step she wander'd pale, Still Edmund's image rose to blast her view, 15 Still Edmund's voice accus'd her in each gale.

With keen regret, and conscious Guilt's alarms, Amid the pomp of Affluence she pined; Nor all that lur'd her faith from Edmund's arms Could lull the wakeful horror of her mind. 20

Go, Traveller! tell the tale with sorrow fraught: Some tearful Maid perchance, or blooming Youth, May hold it in remembrance; and be taught That Riches cannot pay for Love or Truth.

? 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[69:2] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, September 23, 1794: included in _The Watchman_, No. III, March 17, 1794: in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: 1828, 1829, and 1834, but omitted in 1852 as of doubtful origin. The elegy as printed in the _Morning Chronicle_ is unsigned. In _The Watchman_ it is signed T.

LINENOTES:

Title] An Elegy Morning Chronicle, Watchman.

[1] the] yon M. C.

[6] And there his pale-eyed phantom loves to rove M. C.

[10] West-wind] Zephyr M. C.

[11] till] ere M. C.

[12] Lucinda sunk M. C.

[13] Guilt] crime M. C.

[14] step] steps M. C.

[17] remorse and tortur'd Guilt's M. C.

[20] Could soothe the conscious horrors of her mind M. C. horror] horrors The Watchman.

[22] tearful] lovely M. C.

THE FADED FLOWER[70:1]

Ungrateful he, who pluck'd thee from thy stalk, Poor faded flow'ret! on his careless way; Inhal'd awhile thy odours on his walk, Then onward pass'd and left thee to decay. Ah! melancholy emblem! had I seen 5 Thy modest beauties dew'd with Evening's gem, I had not rudely cropp'd thy parent stem, But left thee, blushing, 'mid the enliven'd green And now I bend me o'er thy wither'd bloom, And drop the tear--as Fancy, at my side, 10 Deep-sighing, points the fair frail Abra's tomb-- 'Like thine, sad Flower, was that poor wanderer's pride! Oh! lost to Love and Truth, whose selfish joy Tasted her vernal sweets, but tasted to destroy!'

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[70:1] First published in the _Monthly Magazine_, August, 1836. First collected in _P. W._, 1893.

THE OUTCAST[71:1]

Pale Roamer through the night! thou poor Forlorn! Remorse that man on his death-bed possess, Who in the credulous hour of tenderness Betrayed, then cast thee forth to Want and Scorn! The world is pitiless: the chaste one's pride 5 Mimic of Virtue scowls on thy distress: Thy Loves and they that envied thee deride: And Vice alone will shelter Wretchedness! O! I could weep to think that there should be Cold-bosom'd lewd ones, who endure to place 10 Foul offerings on the shrine of Misery, And force from Famine the caress of Love; May He shed healing on the sore disgrace, He, the great Comforter that rules above!

? 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[71:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. 'The first half of Effusion xv was written by the Author of "Joan of Arc", an Epic Poem.' Preface to _Poems_, 1796, p. xi.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xv. 1796: Sonnet vii. 1797: Sonnet vi. 1803: Sonnet ix. 1828, 1829, and 1834: An Unfortunate 1893.

[7] Thy kindred, when they see thee, turn aside 1803.

[9] O I am sad 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[10] Men, born of woman 1803.

[13-14]

Man has no feeling for thy sore Disgrace: Keen blows the Blast upon the moulting Dove.

1803.

[13] the] thy 1796, 1797, 1828.

DOMESTIC PEACE[71:2]

[FROM 'THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE', ACT I, L. 210]

Tell me, on what holy ground May Domestic Peace be found? Halcyon daughter of the skies, Far on fearful wings she flies, From the pomp of Sceptered State, 5 From the Rebel's noisy hate.

In a cottag'd vale She dwells, Listening to the Sabbath bells! Still around her steps are seen Spotless Honour's meeker mien, 10 Love, the sire of pleasing fears, Sorrow smiling through her tears, And conscious of the past employ Memory, bosom-spring of joy.

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[71:2] First published in the _Fall of Robespierre_, 1795: included (as 'Song', p. 13) in 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxv. 1796.

ON A DISCOVERY MADE TOO LATE[72:1]

Thou bleedest, my poor Heart! and thy distress Reasoning I ponder with a scornful smile And probe thy sore wound sternly, though the while Swoln be mine eye and dim with heaviness. Why didst thou listen to Hope's whisper bland? 5 Or, listening, why forget the healing tale, When Jealousy with feverous fancies pale Jarr'd thy fine fibres with a maniac's hand? Faint was that Hope, and rayless!--Yet 'twas fair And sooth'd with many a dream the hour of rest: 10 Thou should'st have lov'd it most, when most opprest, And nurs'd it with an agony of care, Even as a mother her sweet infant heir That wan and sickly droops upon her breast!

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[72:1] First published in 1796: _Selection of Sonnets_, _Poems_ 1796: in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. It was sent in a letter to Southey, dated October 21, 1794. (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 92.)

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xix. 1796 (in 'Contents' _To my Heart_): Sonnet II. On a Discovery made too late 1797, 1803, and again in P. and D. W., 1877-80: Sonnet xi. 1828, 1829, 1834.

[2-4]

Doth Reason ponder with an anguish'd smile Probing thy sore wound sternly, tho' the while Her eye be swollen and dim with heaviness.

Letter, 1794.

[6] the] its Letter, 1794.

[7] feverous] feverish 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[14] wan] pale Letter, 1794.

TO THE AUTHOR OF 'THE ROBBERS'[72:2]

Schiller! that hour I would have wish'd to die, If thro' the shuddering midnight I had sent From the dark dungeon of the Tower time-rent That fearful voice, a famish'd Father's cry-- Lest in some after moment aught more mean 5 Might stamp me mortal! A triumphant shout Black Horror scream'd, and all her _goblin_ rout Diminish'd shrunk from the more withering scene! Ah! Bard tremendous in sublimity! Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood 10 Wandering at eve with finely-frenzied eye Beneath some vast old tempest-swinging wood! Awhile with mute awe gazing I would brood: Then weep aloud in a wild ecstasy!

? 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[72:2] First published in 1796: included in _Selection of Sonnets_, 1796: in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. The following 'Note' (Note 6, pp. 180, 181) was printed in 1796, and appears again in 1797 as a footnote, p. 83:--'One night in Winter, on leaving a College-friend's room, with whom I had supped, I carelessly took away with me "The Robbers", a drama, the very name of which I had never before heard of:--A Winter midnight--the wind high--and "The Robbers" for the first time!--The readers of Schiller will conceive what I felt. Schiller introduces no supernatural beings; yet his human beings agitate and astonish more than all the _goblin_ rout--even of Shakespeare.' See for another account of the midnight reading of 'The Robbers', Letter to Southey, November [6], 1794, _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 96, 97.

In the _Selection of Sonnets_, 1796, this note was reduced to one sentence. 'Schiller introduces no Supernatural Beings.' In 1803 the note is omitted, but a footnote to line 4 is appended: 'The Father of Moor in the Play of the Robbers.'

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xx. To the Author, &c. [To 'Schiller', _Contents_] 1796: Sonnet viii. To the Author of 'The Robbers' 1797: Sonnet xv. 1803: Sonnet xii. To the Author of the Robbers 1828, 1829, 1834.

_Lines 1-4_ are printed in the reverse order (_4_, _3_, _2_, _1_). Selections.

[5-6]

That in no after moment aught, less vast Might stamp me human!

Selections.

That in no after moment aught less vast Might stamp me mortal!

1797, 1803.

[8] From the more with'ring scene diminish'd past. Selections, 1797, 1803.

MELANCHOLY[73:1]

A FRAGMENT

Stretch'd on a moulder'd Abbey's broadest wall, Where ruining ivies propp'd the ruins steep-- Her folded arms wrapping her tatter'd pall, [73:2]Had Melancholy mus'd herself to sleep. The fern was press'd beneath her hair, The dark green Adder's Tongue[74:1] was there; And still as pass'd the flagging sea-gale weak, The long lank leaf bow'd fluttering o'er her cheek.

That pallid cheek was flush'd: her eager look Beam'd eloquent in slumber! Inly wrought, 10 Imperfect sounds her moving lips forsook, And her bent forehead work'd with troubled thought. Strange was the dream----

? 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[73:1] First published in the _Morning Post_, December 12, 1797 (not, as Coleridge says, the _Morning Chronicle_); included in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817 (with an addition), and, again, in _P. and D. W._, 1877-80, and (in its first shape) in 1828, 1829, 1834, 1852, and 1893. Sent in Letter to Sotheby, Aug. 26, 1802.

[73:2] Bowles borrowed these lines unconsciously, I doubt not. I had repeated the poem on my first visit [Sept. 1797]. _MS. Note, S. T. C._ See, too, _Letter_, Aug. 26, 1802. [Here Melancholy on the pale crags laid, Might muse herself to sleep--_Coomb Ellen_, written September, 1798.]

[74:1] A Plant found on old walls and in wells and mois[t] [h]edges.--It is often called the Hart's Tongue. _M. C._ _Asplenium Scolopendrium_, more commonly called Hart's Tongue. _Letter_, 1802. A botanical mistake. The plant I meant is called the Hart's Tongue, but this would unluckily spoil the poetical effect. _Cedat ergo Botanice._ _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817. A botanical mistake. The plant which the poet here describes is called the Hart's Tongue, _1828_, _1829_, _1852_.

LINENOTES:

[1] Upon a mouldering Letter, Aug. 26, 1802.

[2] Where ruining] Whose running M. C. propp'd] prop Letter, Aug. 26, 1802.

[7] pass'd] came Letter, 1802. sea-gale] sea-gales M. C., Letter, 1802.

[8] The] Her Letter, 1802.

[9] That] Her Letter, 1802.

[13] Not in Letter 1802.

[13]

Strange was the dream that fill'd her soul, Nor did not whisp'ring spirits roll A mystic tumult, and a fateful rhyme, Mix'd with wild shapings of the unborn time!

M. C., Sibylline Leaves, 1817.

TO A YOUNG ASS[74:2]

ITS MOTHER BEING TETHERED NEAR IT

Poor little Foal of an oppresséd race! I love the languid patience of thy face: And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread, And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head. But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd, 5 That never thou dost sport along the glade? And (most unlike the nature of things young) That earthward still thy moveless head is hung? Do thy prophetic fears anticipate, Meek Child of Misery! thy future fate? 10 The starving meal, and all the thousand aches 'Which patient Merit of the Unworthy takes'? Or is thy sad heart thrill'd with filial pain To see thy wretched mother's shorten'd chain? And truly, very piteous is _her_ lot-- 15 Chain'd to a log within a narrow spot, Where the close-eaten grass is scarcely seen, While sweet around her waves the tempting green!

Poor Ass! thy master should have learnt to show Pity--best taught by fellowship of Woe! 20 For much I fear me that _He_ lives like thee, Half famish'd in a land of Luxury! How _askingly_ its footsteps hither bend? It seems to say, 'And have I then _one_ friend?' Innocent foal! thou poor despis'd forlorn! 25 I hail thee _Brother_--spite of the fool's scorn! And fain would take thee with me, in the Dell Of Peace and mild Equality to dwell, Where Toil shall call the charmer Health his bride, And Laughter tickle Plenty's ribless side! 30 How thou wouldst toss thy heels in gamesome play, And frisk about, as lamb or kitten gay! Yea! and more musically sweet to me Thy dissonant harsh bray of joy would be, Than warbled melodies that soothe to rest 35 The aching of pale Fashion's vacant breast!

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[74:2] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 30, 1794: included in 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. A MS. version, dated October 24, 1794 (see _P. W._, 1893, pp. 477, 488), was presented by Coleridge to Professor William Smyth, Professor of Modern History at Cambridge, 1807-49; a second version was included in a letter to Southey, dated December 17, 1794 (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 119, 120).

LINENOTES:

Title] Monologue to a Young Jack Ass in Jesus Piece. Its mother near it chained to a log MS. Oct. 24, 1794: Address to a Young Jack-Ass and its Tether'd mother MS. Dec. 17, 1794: Address, &c. In familiar verse Morning Chronicle, Dec. 30, 1794: Effusion xxxiii. To a Young Ass, &c. 1796.

[3] gentle] friendly MS. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[4] pat] scratch MS. Oct. 1794, M. C.

[5] spirits] spirit MSS. Oct. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[6] along] upon MS. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[8] That still to earth thy moping head is hung MSS. Oct. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[9] Doth thy prophetic soul MS. Oct. 1794.

[12] Which] That MSS. Oct. Dec. 1794.

[14] shorten'd] lengthen'd MS. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[16] within] upon MSS. Oct. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[19] thy] her 1796.

[21] For much I fear, that He lives e'en as she, 1796.

[23] footsteps hither bend] steps toward me tend MS. Oct. 1794: steps towards me bend MS. Dec. 1794, M. C.: footsteps t'ward me bend 1796.

[25] despised and forlorn MS. Oct. 1794.

[27] would] I'd MSS. Oct. Dec. 1794. in] to MS. Oct. 1794.

[28] Of high-soul'd Pantisocracy to dwell MS. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[28 foll.]

Where high-soul'd Pantisocracy shall dwell! Where Mirth shall tickle Plenty's ribless side,[75:A] And smiles from Beauty's Lip on sunbeams glide, Where Toil shall wed young Health that charming Lass! And use his sleek cows for a looking-glass-- Where Rats shall mess with Terriers hand-in-glove And Mice with Pussy's Whiskers sport in Love

MS. Oct. 1794.

[75:A] This is a truly poetical line of which the author has assured us that he did not _mean_ it to have any _meaning_. Note by Ed. of MS. Oct. 1794.

[35-6]

Than Handel's softest airs that soothe to rest The tumult of a scoundrel Monarch's Breast.

MS. Oct. 1794.

Than _Banti's_ warbled airs that sooth to rest The tumult &c.

MS. Dec. 1794.

[36] The tumult of some SCOUNDREL Monarch's breast. M. C. 1796.

LINES ON A FRIEND[76:1]

WHO DIED OF A FRENZY FEVER INDUCED BY CALUMNIOUS REPORTS

Edmund! thy grave with aching eye I scan, And inly groan for Heaven's poor outcast--Man! 'Tis tempest all or gloom: in early youth If gifted with th' Ithuriel lance of Truth We force to start amid her feign'd caress 5 Vice, siren-hag! in native ugliness; A Brother's fate will haply rouse the tear, And on we go in heaviness and fear! But if our fond hearts call to Pleasure's bower Some pigmy Folly in a careless hour, 10 The faithless guest shall stamp the enchanted ground, And mingled forms of Misery rise around: Heart-fretting Fear, with pallid look aghast, That courts the future woe to hide the past; Remorse, the poison'd arrow in his side, 15 And loud lewd Mirth, to Anguish close allied: Till Frenzy, fierce-eyed child of moping Pain, Darts her hot lightning-flash athwart the brain.

Rest, injur'd shade! Shall Slander squatting near Spit her cold venom in a dead man's ear? 20 'Twas thine to feel the sympathetic glow In Merit's joy, and Poverty's meek woe; Thine all, that cheer the moment as it flies, The zoneless Cares, and smiling Courtesies. Nurs'd in thy heart the firmer Virtues grew, 25 And in thy heart they wither'd! Such chill dew Wan Indolence on each young blossom shed; And Vanity her filmy net-work spread, With eye that roll'd around in asking gaze, And tongue that traffick'd in the trade of praise. 30 Thy follies such! the hard world mark'd them well! Were they more wise, the Proud who never fell? Rest, injur'd shade! the poor man's grateful prayer On heaven-ward wing thy wounded soul shall bear.

As oft at twilight gloom thy grave I pass, 35 And sit me down upon its recent grass, With introverted eye I contemplate Similitude of soul, perhaps of--Fate! To me hath Heaven with bounteous hand assign'd Energic Reason and a shaping mind, 40 The daring ken of Truth, the Patriot's part, And Pity's sigh, that breathes the gentle heart-- Sloth-jaundic'd all! and from my graspless hand Drop Friendship's precious pearls, like hour-glass sand. I weep, yet stoop not! the faint anguish flows, 45 A dreamy pang in Morning's feverous doze.

Is this piled earth our Being's passless mound? Tell me, cold grave! is Death with poppies crown'd? Tired Sentinel! mid fitful starts I nod, And fain would sleep, though pillowed on a clod! 50

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[76:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. Four MS. versions are extant, (1) in Letter to Southey, Nov. [6], 1794 (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 98, 99): (2) in letter to George Coleridge, Nov. 6, 1794: (3) in the Estlin copy-book: (4) in the MS. 4{o}. The Friend was the Rev. Fulwood Smerdon, vicar of Ottery St. Mary, who died in August 1794.

LINENOTES:

Title] On the Death of a Friend who died of a Frenzy Fever brought on by anxiety MS. E.

[1] ----! thy grave MS. Letter to R. S.: Smerdon! thy grave MS. Letter to G. C.

[3] early] earliest MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E.

[5] We] He MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E, MS. 4{o}, 1796.

[7] will] shall MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E.

[8] And on he goes MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E, 1796: Onward we move 1803.

[9] his fond heart MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E, 1796.

[11] quick stamps MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E, MS. 4{o}.

[12] threaten round MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C.

[17] fierce-eyed] frantic MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E erased [See Lamb's Letter to Coleridge, June 10, 1796].

[19] squatting] couching MS Letter to G. C., MS. E [See Lamb's Letter, June 10, 1796].

[23] cheer] cheers MS. E.

[25] firmer] generous MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C.: manly MS. E.

[29] roll'd] prowl'd MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E.

[33-4]

the poor man's prayer of praise On heavenward wing thy wounded soul shall raise.

1796.

[35] As oft in Fancy's thought MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C.

[39] bounteous] liberal MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E.

[41] ken] soul MS. Letter to R. S.

[46] feverous] feverish all MSS. and Eds. 1796-1829.

[47] this] that MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E. passless] hapless Letter to G. C.

[49] Sentinel] Centinel all MSS. and Eds. 1796-1829. mid] with Letters to R. S. and G. C.

Below l. 50 the date (November 1794) is affixed in 1796, 1797, and 1803.

TO A FRIEND[78:1]

[CHARLES LAMB]

TOGETHER WITH AN UNFINISHED POEM

Thus far my scanty brain hath built the rhyme Elaborate and swelling: yet the heart Not owns it. From thy spirit-breathing powers I ask not now, my friend! the aiding verse, Tedious to thee, and from thy anxious thought 5 Of dissonant mood. In fancy (well I know) From business wandering far and local cares, Thou creepest round a dear-lov'd Sister's bed With noiseless step, and watchest the faint look, Soothing each pang with fond solicitude, 10 And tenderest tones medicinal of love. I too a Sister _had_, an only Sister-- She lov'd me dearly, and I doted on her! To her I pour'd forth all my puny sorrows (As a sick Patient in a Nurse's arms) 15 And of the heart those hidden maladies That e'en from Friendship's eye will shrink asham'd. O! I have wak'd at midnight, and have wept, Because she was not!--Cheerily, dear Charles! Thou thy best friend shalt cherish many a year: 20 Such warm presages feel I of high Hope. For not uninterested the dear Maid I've view'd--her soul affectionate yet wise, Her polish'd wit as mild as lambent glories That play around a sainted infant's head. 25 He knows (the Spirit that in secret sees, Of whose omniscient and all-spreading Love Aught to _implore_[79:1] were impotence of mind) That my mute thoughts are sad before his throne, Prepar'd, when he his healing ray vouchsafes, 30 Thanksgiving to pour forth with lifted heart, And praise Him Gracious with a Brother's Joy!

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[78:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, and, again, in 1844. Lines 12-19 ('I too a sister . . . Because she was not') are published in 1834 (i. 35) under the heading 'The Same', i. e. the same as the preceding poem, 'On seeing a Youth affectionately welcomed by a Sister.' The date, December 1794, affixed in 1797 and 1803, is correct. The poem was sent in a letter from Coleridge to Southey, dated December 1794. (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 128.) The 'Unfinished Poem' was, certainly, _Religious Musings_, begun on Christmas Eve, 1794. The text is that of 1844.

[79:1] I utterly recant the sentiment contained in the lines--

'Of whose omniscient and all-spreading Love Aught to _implore_ were impotence of mind,'

it being written in Scripture, '_Ask_, and it shall be given you,' and my human reason being moreover convinced of the propriety of offering _petitions_ as well as thanksgivings to Deity. [Note of S. T. C., in _Poems_, 1797 and 1803.]

LINENOTES:

Title] To C. Lamb MS. Letter, Dec. 1794: Effusion xxii. To a Friend, &c. 1796: To Charles Lamb with an unfinished Poem 1844.

[1-3]

Thus far my sterile brain hath fram'd the song Elaborate and swelling: but the heart Not owns it. From thy spirit-breathing power

MS. Letter, Dec. 1794.

[7] Not in MS. Letter, Dec. 1794.

[Between 13 and 14]

On her soft bosom I reposed my cares And gain'd for every wound a healing tear.

MS. Letter, 1794.

[15] a] his MS. Letter, 1794, 1796, 1797, 1803.

[17] That shrink asham'd from even Friendship's eye. MS. Letter, 1794, 1796, 1797.

[18] wak'd] woke MS. Letter, 1794, 1796, 1797, 1803.

[21] warm] high: high] warm MS. Letter, 1794. presages] presagings 1803.

[25] sainted] holy MS. Letter, 1794.

[26] that] who MS. Letter, 1794.

[31] To pour forth thanksgiving MS. Letter, 1794, 1796, 1797, 1803.

SONNETS ON EMINENT CHARACTERS

CONTRIBUTED TO THE 'MORNING CHRONICLE' IN DECEMBER 1794 AND JANUARY 1795

[The Sonnets were introduced by the following letter:--

'MR. EDITOR--If, Sir, the following Poems will not disgrace your poetical department, I will transmit you a series of _Sonnets_ (as it is the fashion to call them) addressed like these to eminent Contemporaries.

'JESUS COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.' S. T. C.]

I[79:2]

TO THE HONOURABLE MR. ERSKINE

When British Freedom for an happier land Spread her broad wings, that flutter'd with affright, ERSKINE! thy voice she heard, and paus'd her flight Sublime of hope, for dreadless thou didst stand (Thy censer glowing with the hallow'd flame) 5 A hireless Priest before the insulted shrine, And at her altar pour the stream divine Of unmatch'd eloquence. Therefore thy name

Her sons shall venerate, and cheer thy breast With blessings heaven-ward breath'd. And when the doom Of Nature bids thee die, beyond the tomb 11 Thy light shall shine: as sunk beneath the West

Though the great Summer Sun eludes our gaze, Still burns wide Heaven with his distended blaze.[80:A]

_December_ 1, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[79:2] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, Dec. 1, 1794: included in 1796, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[80:A] 'Our elegant correspondent will highly gratify every reader of taste by the continuance of his exquisitely beautiful productions. No. II. shall appear on an early day.'

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion v. 1796: Sonnet x. 1803: Sonnet iv. 1828, 1829, 1834.

[4] for dreadless] where fearless M. C. Dec. 1, 1794.

[6] A] An M. C., 1796-1803, 1828, 1829. the insulted] her injur'd M. C.

[7] pour] pour'dst M. C., 1796, 1803.

[8] unmatch'd] matchless M. C.

[10] With heav'n-breath'd blessings; and, when late the doom M. C.

[11] die] rise 1803.

[13-14]

Though the great Sun not meets our wistful gaze Still glows wide Heaven

M. C.

[Below l. 14] Jesus College Cambridge M. C.

II[80:1]

BURKE

As late I lay in Slumber's shadowy vale, With wetted cheek and in a mourner's guise, I saw the sainted form of FREEDOM rise: She spake! not sadder moans the autumnal gale--

'Great Son of Genius! sweet to me thy name, 5 Ere in an evil hour with alter'd voice Thou bad'st Oppression's hireling crew rejoice Blasting with wizard spell my laurell'd fame.

'Yet never, BURKE! thou drank'st Corruption's bowl![80:2] Thee stormy Pity and the cherish'd lure 10 Of Pomp, and proud Precipitance of soul Wilder'd with meteor fires. Ah Spirit pure!

'That Error's mist had left thy purgéd eye: So might I clasp thee with a Mother's joy!'

_December_ 9, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[80:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, Dec. 9, 1794: included in 1796, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. This Sonnet was sent in a letter to Southey, dated December 11, 1794. _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 118.

[80:2]

_Yet never_, BURKE! thou dran'kst Corruption's bowl!

When I composed this line, I had not read the following paragraph in the _Cambridge Intelligencer_ (of Saturday, November 21, 1795):--

'_When Mr. Burke first crossed over the House of Commons from the Opposition to the Ministry, he received a pension of £1200 a year charged on the Kings Privy Purse._ When he had completed his labours, it was then a question what recompense his service deserved. Mr. Burke wanting a present supply of money, it was thought that a pension of £2000 _per annum_ for _forty years certain_, would sell for eighteen years' purchase, and bring him of course £36,000. But this pension must, by the very unfortunate act, of which Mr. Burke was himself the author, have come before Parliament. Instead of this Mr. Pitt suggested the idea of a pension of £2000 a year for _three lives_, to be charged on the King's Revenue of the West India 4-1/2 per cents. This was tried at the market, but it was found that it would not produce the £36,000 which were wanted. In consequence of this a pension of £2500 per annum, _for three lives_ on the 4-1/2 West India Fund, the lives to be nominated by Mr. Burke, that he may accommodate the purchasers is _finally_ granted to this disinterested patriot. He has thus retir'd from the trade of politics, with pensions to the amount of £3700 a year.' 1796, Note, pp. 177-9.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion ii. 1796: Sonnet vii. 1803: Sonnet ii. 1828, 1829, 1834.

[1] As late I roam'd through Fancy's shadowy vale MS. Letter, Dec. 11, 1794.

[4] She] He MS. Letter, 1794.

[12] Urg'd on with wild'ring fires MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1794, M. C.

[Below l. 14] Jesus College M. C.

III[81:1]

PRIESTLEY

Though rous'd by that dark Vizir Riot rude Have driven our PRIESTLEY o'er the Ocean swell; Though Superstition and her wolfish brood Bay his mild radiance, impotent and fell; Calm in his halls of brightness he shall dwell! 5 For lo! RELIGION at his strong behest Starts with mild anger from the Papal spell, And flings to Earth her tinsel-glittering vest, Her mitred State and cumbrous Pomp unholy; And JUSTICE wakes to bid th' Oppressor wail 10 Insulting aye the wrongs of patient Folly; And from her dark retreat by Wisdom won Meek NATURE slowly lifts her matron veil To smile with fondness on her gazing Son!

_December_ 11, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[81:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 11, 1794: included in 1796, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. In all editions prior to 1852, 'Priestley' is spelled 'Priestly'. The Sonnet was sent to Southey in a letter dated December 17, 1794.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion iv. 1796: Sonnet ix. 1803: Sonnet iii. 1828, 1829, 1834.

[1-2]

Tho' king-bred rage with lawless uproar rude Hath driv'n

M. C.

Tho' king-bred rage with lawless tumult rude Have driv'n

MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1794.

[7] Disdainful rouses from the Papal spell, M. C., MS. Letter, 1794.

[11] That ground th' ensnared soul of patient Folly. M. C., MS. Letter, 1794.

IV[82:1]

LA FAYETTE

As when far off the warbled strains are heard That soar on Morning's wing the vales among; Within his cage the imprison'd Matin Bird Swells the full chorus with a generous song:

He bathes no pinion in the dewy light, 5 No Father's joy, no Lover's bliss he shares, Yet still the rising radiance cheers his sight-- His fellows' Freedom soothes the Captive's cares!

Thou, FAYETTE! who didst wake with startling voice Life's better Sun from that long wintry night, 10 Thus in thy Country's triumphs shalt rejoice And mock with raptures high the Dungeon's might:

For lo! the Morning struggles into Day, And Slavery's spectres shriek and vanish from the ray![82:2]

_December_ 15, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[82:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 15, 1794: included in 1796, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[82:2] The above beautiful sonnet was written antecedently to the joyful account of the Patriot's escape from the Tyrant's Dungeon. [Note in _M. C._]

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion ix. 1796: Sonnet xiii. 1803: Sonnet vii. 1828, 1829, 1834.

V[82:3]

KOSKIUSKO

O what a loud and fearful shriek was there, As though a thousand souls one death-groan pour'd! Ah me! they saw beneath a Hireling's sword Their KOSKIUSKO fall! Through the swart air (As pauses the tir'd Cossac's barbarous yell 5 Of Triumph) on the chill and midnight gale Rises with frantic burst or sadder swell The dirge of murder'd Hope! while Freedom pale Bends in such anguish o'er her destin'd bier, As if from eldest time some Spirit meek 10 Had gather'd in a mystic urn each tear That ever on a Patriot's furrow'd cheek Fit channel found; and she had drain'd the bowl In the mere wilfulness, and sick despair of soul!

_December_ 16, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[82:3] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 16, 1794: included in 1796, 1828, 1829, 1834. The Sonnet was sent to Southey in a letter dated December 17, 1794. _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 117.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion viii. 1796: Sonnet vi. 1828, 1829, 1834.

[3-4]

Great _Kosciusko_ 'neath an hireling's sword The warriors view'd! Hark! through the list'ning air

MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1794.

Great KOSCIUSKO 'neath an Hireling's sword His country view'd. Hark through the list'ning air

M. C.

Ah me! they view'd beneath an hireling's sword Fall'n Kosciusko! Thro' the burthened air

1796, 1828, 1829.

[5] As] When M. C., MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1794.

[8] The 'dirge of Murder'd Hope' MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1794.

[12] That ever furrow'd a sad Patriot's cheek MS. Letter, 1794, M. C., 1796.

[13-14]

And she had drench'd the sorrows of the bowl E'en till she reel'd intoxicate of soul

MS. Letter, 1794, M. C.

And she had drain'd the sorrows of the bowl E'en till she reel'd, &c.

1796.

VI[83:1]

PITT

Not always should the Tear's ambrosial dew Roll its soft anguish down thy furrow'd cheek! Not always heaven-breath'd tones of Suppliance meek Beseem thee, Mercy! Yon dark Scowler view, Who with proud words of dear-lov'd Freedom came-- 5 More blasting than the mildew from the South! And kiss'd his country with Iscariot mouth (Ah! foul apostate from his Father's fame!)[83:2] Then fix'd her on the Cross of deep distress, And at safe distance marks the thirsty Lance 10 Pierce her big side! But O! if some strange trance The eye-lids of thy stern-brow'd Sister[83:3] press, Seize, Mercy! thou more terrible the brand, 13 And hurl her thunderbolts with fiercer hand!

_December_ 23, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[83:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 23, 1794, and, secondly, in _The Watchman_, No. V, April 2, 1796; included in 1796, 1803, and in 1852, with the following note:--'This Sonnet, and the ninth, to Stanhope, were among the pieces withdrawn from the second edition of 1797. They reappeared in the edition of 1803, and were again withdrawn in 1828, solely, it may be presumed, on account of their political vehemence. They will excite no angry feelings, and lead to no misapprehensions now, and as they are fully equal to their companions in poetical merit, the Editors have not scrupled to reproduce them. These Sonnets were originally entitled "Effusions".'

[83:2] Earl of Chatham.

[83:3] Justice.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion iii. 1796: To Mercy Watchman: Sonnet viii. 1803: Sonnet iii. 1852.

[8] Staining most foul a Godlike Father's name M. C., Watchman.

[13] Seize thou more terrible th' avenging brand M. C.

VII[84:1]

TO THE REV. W. L. BOWLES[84:2]

[FIRST VERSION, PRINTED IN 'MORNING CHRONICLE', DECEMBER 26, 1794]

My heart has thank'd thee, BOWLES! for those soft strains, That, on the still air floating, tremblingly Wak'd in me Fancy, Love, and Sympathy! For hence, not callous to a Brother's pains

Thro' Youth's gay prime and thornless paths I went; 5 And, when the _darker_ day of life began, And I did roam, a thought-bewilder'd man! Thy kindred Lays an healing solace lent,

Each lonely pang with dreamy joys combin'd, And stole from vain REGRET her scorpion stings; 10 While shadowy PLEASURE, with mysterious wings, Brooded the wavy and tumultuous mind,

Like that great Spirit, who with plastic sweep Mov'd on the darkness of the formless Deep!

FOOTNOTES:

[84:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 26, 1794. First collected, _P. and D. W._, 1877, i. 138. The sonnet was sent in a letter to Southey, dated December 11, 1794. _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 111.

[84:2] Author of _Sonnets and other Poems_, published by Dilly. To Mr. Bowles's poetry I have always thought the following remarks from Maximus Tyrius peculiarly applicable:--'I am not now treating of that poetry which is estimated by the pleasure it affords to the ear--the ear having been corrupted, and the judgment-seat of the perceptions; but of that which proceeds from the intellectual Helicon, that which is _dignified_, and appertaining to _human_ feelings, and entering into the soul.'--The 13th Sonnet for exquisite delicacy of painting; the 19th for tender simplicity; and the 25th for manly pathos, are compositions of, perhaps, unrivalled merit. Yet while I am selecting these, I almost accuse myself of causeless partiality; for surely never was a writer so equal in excellence!--S. T. C. [In this note as it first appeared in the _Morning Chronicle_ a Greek sentence preceded the supposed English translation. It is not to be found in the _Dissertations_ of Maximus Tyrius, but the following passage which, for verbal similitudes, may be compared with others (e. g. 20, 8, p. 243: 21, 3, p. 247; 28, 3, p. 336) is to be found in Davies and Markland's edition (Lips. 1725), vol. ii, p. 203:--Οὔ τί τοι λέγω τὴν δἰ' αὐλῶν καὶ ᾠδῶν καὶ χορῶν καὶ ψαλμάτων, ἄνευ λόγου ἐπὶ τῇ ψυχῇ ἰοῦσαν, τῷ τερπνῷ τῆς ἀκοῆς τιμηθεῖσαν . . . τὴν ἀληθῆ καὶ ἐκ τοῦ Ἑλικῶνος μοῦσαν. . . .]

LINENOTES:

[3] Wak'd] Woke MS. Letter, Dec. 11, 1794.

[SECOND VERSION][85:1]

My heart has thank'd thee, BOWLES! for those soft strains Whose sadness soothes me, like the murmuring Of wild-bees in the sunny showers of spring! For hence not callous to the mourner's pains

Through Youth's gay prime and thornless paths I went: 5 And when the mightier Throes of mind began, And drove me forth, a thought-bewilder'd man, Their mild and manliest melancholy lent

A mingled charm, such as the pang consign'd To slumber, though the big tear it renew'd; 10 Bidding a strange mysterious PLEASURE brood Over the wavy and tumultuous mind,

As the great SPIRIT erst with plastic sweep Mov'd on the darkness of the unform'd deep.

FOOTNOTES:

[85:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion i. 1796: Sonnet i. 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[6-7]

And when the darker day of life began And I did roam, &c.

1796, 1797, 1803.

[9] such as] which oft 1797, 1803.

[11] a] such 1797, 1803.

[13-14]

As made the soul enamour'd of her woe: No common praise, dear Bard! to thee I owe.

1797, 1803.

VIII[85:2]

MRS. SIDDONS

As when a child on some long Winter's night Affrighted clinging to its Grandam's knees With eager wond'ring and perturb'd delight Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees Muttered to wretch by necromantic spell; 5 Or of those hags, who at the witching time Of murky Midnight ride the air sublime, And mingle foul embrace with fiends of Hell:

Cold Horror drinks its blood! Anon the tear More gentle starts, to hear the Beldame tell 10 Of pretty Babes, that lov'd each other dear. Murder'd by cruel Uncle's mandate fell:

Even such the shiv'ring joys thy tones impart, Even so thou, SIDDONS! meltest my sad heart!

_December_ 29, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[85:2] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 29, 1794, under the signature, S. T. C.: included in 1796 (as C. L.'s) and in 1797 as Charles Lamb's, but reassigned to Coleridge in 1803. First collected, _P. and D. W._, 1877, i. 140, 141. This sonnet may have been altered by Coleridge, but was no doubt written by Lamb and given by him to Coleridge to make up his tale of sonnets for the _Morning Chronicle_. In 1796 and 1797 Coleridge acknowledged the sonnet to be Lamb's; but in 1803, Lamb, who was seeing that volume through the press, once more handed it over to Coleridge.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion vii. 1796: Sonnet viii. 1797, p. 224: Sonnet xii. 1803.

[4] dark tales of fearful strange decrees M. C.

[6] Of Warlock Hags that M. C.

IX

TO WILLIAM GODWIN[86:1]

AUTHOR OF 'POLITICAL JUSTICE'

O form'd t' illume a sunless world forlorn, As o'er the chill and dusky brow of Night, In Finland's wintry skies the Mimic Morn[86:2] Electric pours a stream of rosy light,

Pleas'd I have mark'd OPPRESSION, terror-pale, 5 Since, thro' the windings of her dark machine, Thy steady eye has shot its glances keen-- And bade th' All-lovely 'scenes at distance hail'.

Nor will I not thy holy guidance bless, And hymn thee, GODWIN! with an ardent lay; 10 For that thy voice, in Passion's stormy day, When wild I roam'd the bleak Heath of Distress,

Bade the bright form of Justice meet my way-- And told me that her name was HAPPINESS.

_January_ 10, 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[86:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, January 10, 1795. First collected, _P. and D. W._, 1877, i. 143. The last six lines were sent in a letter to Southey, dated December 17, 1794. _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 117.

[86:2] Aurora Borealis.

X[87:1]

TO ROBERT SOUTHEY

OF BALIOL COLLEGE, OXFORD, AUTHOR OF THE 'RETROSPECT', AND OTHER POEMS

SOUTHEY! thy melodies steal o'er mine ear Like far-off joyance, or the murmuring Of wild bees in the sunny showers of Spring-- Sounds of such mingled import as may cheer

The lonely breast, yet rouse a mindful tear: 5 Wak'd by the Song doth Hope-born FANCY fling Rich showers of dewy fragrance from her wing, Till sickly PASSION'S drooping Myrtles sear

Blossom anew! But O! more thrill'd, I prize Thy sadder strains, that bid in MEMORY'S Dream 10 The faded forms of past Delight arise; Then soft, on Love's pale cheek, the tearful gleam

Of Pleasure smiles--as faint yet beauteous lies The imag'd Rainbow on a willowy stream.

_January_ 14, 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[87:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, January 14, 1795. First collected, _P. and D. W._, 1877, i. 142. This sonnet was sent in a letter to Southey, dated December 17, 1794. _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 120.

XI[87:2]

TO RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN, ESQ.

It was some Spirit, SHERIDAN! that breath'd O'er thy young mind such wildly-various power! My soul hath mark'd thee in her shaping hour, Thy temples with Hymettian[88:1] flow'rets wreath'd:

And sweet thy voice, as when o'er LAURA'S bier 5 Sad Music trembled thro' Vauclusa's glade; Sweet, as at dawn the love-lorn Serenade That wafts soft dreams to SLUMBER'S listening ear.

Now patriot Rage and Indignation high Swell the full tones! And now thine eye-beams dance 10 Meanings of Scorn and Wit's quaint revelry! Writhes inly from the bosom-probing glance

The Apostate by the brainless rout ador'd, As erst that elder Fiend beneath great Michael's sword.

_January_ 29, 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[87:2] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, January 29, 1795: included in 1796, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. Two MS. versions are extant; one in a letter to Southey, dated December 9, 1794 (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 118), and a second in the Estlin copy-book. In 1796 a note to line 4 was included in Notes, p. 179, and in 1797 and 1803 affixed as a footnote, p. 95:--'Hymettian Flowrets. Hymettus, a mountain near Athens, celebrated for its honey. This alludes to Mr. Sheridan's classical attainments, and the following four lines to the exquisite sweetness and almost _Italian_ delicacy of his poetry. In Shakespeare's _Lover's Complaint_ there is a fine stanza almost prophetically characteristic of Mr. Sheridan.

So on the tip of his subduing tongue All kind of argument and question deep, All replication prompt and reason strong For his advantage still did wake and sleep, To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep: He had the dialect and different skill Catching all passions in his craft of will; That he did in the general bosom reign Of young and old.'

[88:1] Hymettus, a mountain of Attica famous for honey. _M. C._

LINENOTES:

Title] To Sheridan MS. E: Effusion vi. 1796: Sonnet xi. 1803: Sonnet v. 1828, 1829, 1834.

[1-5]

Some winged Genius, Sheridan! imbreath'd His _various_ influence on thy natal hour: My fancy bodies forth the Guardian power, His temples with Hymettian flowrets wreath'd And sweet his voice

MS. Letter, Dec. 9, 1794.

[1-2]

Was it some Spirit, SHERIDAN! that breath'd His _various_ &c.

M. C.

[1-3]

Some winged Genius, Sheridan! imbreath'd O'er thy young Soul a wildly-various power! My Fancy meets thee in her shaping hour

MS. E.

[8] wafts] bears MS. Letter, 1794, M. C., MS. E.

[9] Rage] Zeal MS. Letter, 1794, MS. E, M. C.

[10] thine] his Letter, 1794, M. C.

[12]

While inly writhes from the Soul-probing glance

M. C.

[12-14]

Th' Apostate by the brainless rout ador'd Writhes inly from the bosom-probing glance As erst that nobler Fiend

MS. Letter, 1794, MS. E.

[14] elder] other M. C.

TO LORD STANHOPE[89:1]

ON READING HIS LATE PROTEST IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS

['MORNING CHRONICLE,' JAN. 31, 1795]

STANHOPE! I hail, with ardent Hymn, thy name! Thou shalt be bless'd and lov'd, when in the dust Thy corse shall moulder--Patriot pure and just! And o'er thy tomb the grateful hand of FAME

Shall grave:--'Here sleeps the Friend of Humankind!' 5 For thou, untainted by CORRUPTION'S bowl, Or foul AMBITION, with undaunted soul Hast spoke the language of a Free-born mind

Pleading the cause of Nature! Still pursue Thy path of Honour!--To thy Country true, 10

Still watch th' expiring flame of Liberty! O Patriot! still pursue thy virtuous way, As holds his course the splendid Orb of Day, Or thro' the stormy or the tranquil sky! ONE OF THE PEOPLE.

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[89:1] First collected in 1893. Mr. Campbell assigned the authorship of the Sonnet to Coleridge, taking it to be 'the original of the one to Stanhope printed in the _Poems_ of 1796 and 1803'. For 'Corruption's bowl' (l. 6) see _Sonnet to Burke_, line 9 (_ante_, p. 80).

TO EARL STANHOPE[89:2]

Not, STANHOPE! with the Patriot's doubtful name I mock thy worth--Friend of the Human Race! Since scorning Faction's low and partial aim Aloof thou wendest in thy stately pace,

Thyself redeeming from that leprous stain, 5 Nobility: and aye unterrify'd Pourest thine Abdiel warnings on the train That sit complotting with rebellious pride

'Gainst _Her_[90:1] who from the Almighty's bosom leapt With whirlwind arm, fierce Minister of Love! 10 Wherefore, ere Virtue o'er thy tomb hath wept, Angels shall lead thee to the Throne above:

And thou from forth its clouds shalt hear the voice, Champion of Freedom and her God! rejoice!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[89:2] First published in 1796: included in 1803, in Cottle's _Early Rec._ i. 203, and in _Rem._ 1848, p. 111. First collected in 1852.

[90:1] Gallic Liberty.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion x. 1796 (To Earl Stanhope _Contents_): Sonnet xvi. 1803: Sonnet ix. 1852.

LINES[90:2]

TO A FRIEND IN ANSWER TO A MELANCHOLY LETTER

Away, those cloudy looks, that labouring sigh, The peevish offspring of a sickly hour! Nor meanly thus complain of Fortune's power, When the blind Gamester throws a luckless die.

Yon setting Sun flashes a mournful gleam 5 Behind those broken clouds, his stormy train: To-morrow shall the many-colour'd main In brightness roll beneath his orient beam!

Wild, as the autumnal gust, the hand of Time Flies o'er his mystic lyre: in shadowy dance 10 The alternate groups of Joy and Grief advance Responsive to his varying strains sublime!

Bears on its wing each hour a load of Fate; The swain, who, lull'd by Seine's mild murmurs, led His weary oxen to their nightly shed, 15 To-day may rule a tempest-troubled State.

Nor shall not Fortune with a vengeful smile Survey the sanguinary Despot's might, And haply hurl the Pageant from his height Unwept to wander in some savage isle. 20

There shiv'ring sad beneath the tempest's frown Round his tir'd limbs to wrap the purple vest; And mix'd with nails and beads, an equal jest! Barter for food, the jewels of his crown.

? 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[90:2] First published in 1796: included in 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Epistle II. To a Friend, &c. 1796: To a Friend, &c. 1803.

TO AN INFANT[91:1]

Ah! cease thy tears and sobs, my little Life! I did but snatch away the unclasp'd knife: Some safer toy will soon arrest thine eye, And to quick laughter change this peevish cry! Poor stumbler on the rocky coast of Woe, 5 Tutor'd by Pain each source of pain to know! Alike the foodful fruit and scorching fire Awake thy eager grasp and young desire; Alike the Good, the Ill offend thy sight, And rouse the stormy sense of shrill Affright! 10 Untaught, yet wise! mid all thy brief alarms Thou closely clingest to thy Mother's arms, Nestling thy little face in that fond breast Whose anxious heavings lull thee to thy rest! Man's breathing Miniature! thou mak'st me sigh-- 15 A Babe art thou--and such a Thing am I! To anger rapid and as soon appeas'd, For trifles mourning and by trifles pleas'd, Break Friendship's mirror with a tetchy blow, Yet snatch what coals of fire on Pleasure's altar glow! 20

O thou that rearest with celestial aim The future Seraph in my mortal frame, Thrice holy Faith! whatever thorns I meet As on I totter with unpractis'd feet, Still let me stretch my arms and cling to thee, 25 Meek nurse of souls through their long Infancy!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[91:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797 (_Supplement_), 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. A MS. version numbering 16 lines is included in the Estlin volume.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxxiv. To an Infant 1796.

[1-10]

How yon sweet Child my Bosom's grief beguiles With soul-subduing Eloquence of smiles! Ah lovely Babe! in thee myself I scan-- Thou weepest! sure those Tears proclaim thee Man! And now some glitt'ring Toy arrests thine eye, And to quick laughter turns the peevish cry. Poor Stumbler on the rocky coast of Woe, Tutor'd by Pain the source of Pain to know! Alike the foodful Fruit and scorching Fire Awake thy eager grasp and young desire; Alike the Good, the Ill thy aching sight Scare with the keen Emotions of Affright!

MS. E.

[8-11]

Or rouse thy screams, or wake thy young desire: Yet art thou wise, for mid thy brief alarms

1797.

[9-10] om. 1797.

[14] Whose kindly Heavings lull thy cares to Rest MS. E.

[19] tetchy] fretful 1797.

TO THE REV. W. J. HORT[92:1]

WHILE TEACHING A YOUNG LADY SOME SONG-TUNES ON HIS FLUTE

I

Hush! ye clamorous Cares! be mute! Again, dear Harmonist! again Thro' the hollow of thy flute Breathe that passion-warbled strain: Till Memory each form shall bring 5 The loveliest of her shadowy throng; And Hope, that soars on sky-lark wing, Carol wild her gladdest song!

II

O skill'd with magic spell to roll The thrilling tones, that concentrate the soul! 10 Breathe thro' thy flute those tender notes again, While near thee sits the chaste-eyed Maiden mild; And bid her raise the Poet's kindred strain In soft impassion'd voice, correctly wild.

III

In Freedom's UNDIVIDED dell, 15 Where _Toil_ and _Health_ with mellow'd _Love_ shall dwell, Far from folly, far from men, In the rude romantic glen, Up the cliff, and thro' the glade, Wandering with the dear-lov'd maid, 20 I shall listen to the lay, And ponder on thee far away Still, as she bids those thrilling notes aspire ('Making my fond attuned heart her lyre'), Thy honour'd form, my Friend! shall reappear, 25 And I will thank thee with a raptur'd tear.

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[92:1] First published in 1796, and again in 1863.

LINENOTES:

Title] To the Rev. W. J. H. while Teaching, &c. 1796, 1863.

[24] her] his 1863.

PITY[93:1]

Sweet Mercy! how my very heart has bled To see thee, poor Old Man! and thy grey hairs Hoar with the snowy blast: while no one cares To clothe thy shrivell'd limbs and palsied head. My Father! throw away this tatter'd vest 5 That mocks thy shivering! take my garment--use A young man's arm! I'll melt these frozen dews That hang from thy white beard and numb thy breast. My Sara too shall tend thee, like a child: And thou shalt talk, in our fireside's recess, 10 Of purple Pride, that scowls on Wretchedness-- He did not so, the Galilaean mild, Who met the Lazars turn'd from rich men's doors And call'd them Friends, and heal'd their noisome sores!

? 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[93:1] First published in 1796: included in _Selection of Sonnets_, _Poems_ 1796, in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xvi. 1796 (_Contents_--To an Old Man): Sonnet vi. 1797: Sonnet v. 1803: Sonnet x. 1828, 1829, 1834: Charity 1893.

[7] arm] arms 1796, 1828.

[12-14]

He did not scowl, the Galilaean mild, Who met the Lazar turn'd from rich man's doors, And call'd him Friend, and wept upon his sores.

1797, 1803.

[13] men's] man's 1796, Selection of Sonnets, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

TO THE NIGHTINGALE[93:2]

Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philomel! How many Bards in city garret pent, While at their window they with downward eye Mark the faint lamp-beam on the kennell'd mud, And listen to the drowsy cry of Watchmen 5 (Those hoarse unfeather'd Nightingales of Time!), How many wretched Bards address _thy_ name, And hers, the full-orb'd Queen that shines above. But I _do_ hear thee, and the high bough mark, Within whose mild moon-mellow'd foliage hid 10 Thou warblest sad thy pity-pleading strains. O! I have listened, till my working soul, Waked by those strains to thousand phantasies, Absorb'd hath ceas'd to listen! Therefore oft, I hymn thy name: and with a proud delight 15 Oft will I tell thee, Minstrel of the Moon! 'Most musical, most melancholy' Bird! That all thy soft diversities of tone, Tho' sweeter far than the delicious airs That vibrate from a white-arm'd Lady's harp, 20 What time the languishment of lonely love Melts in her eye, and heaves her breast of snow, Are not so sweet as is the voice of her, My Sara--best beloved of human kind! When breathing the pure soul of tenderness, 25 She thrills me with the Husband's promis'd name!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[93:2] First published in 1796: included in 1803 and in _Lit. Rem._, i. 38. First collected in 1844.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxiii. To the, &c. 1796.

[12] O have I 1796.

LINES[94:1]

COMPOSED WHILE CLIMBING THE LEFT ASCENT OF BROCKLEY COOMB, SOMERSETSHIRE, MAY 1795

With many a pause and oft reverted eye I climb the Coomb's ascent: sweet songsters near Warble in shade their wild-wood melody: Far off the unvarying Cuckoo soothes my ear. Up scour the startling stragglers of the flock 5 That on green plots o'er precipices browze: From the deep fissures of the naked rock The Yew-tree bursts! Beneath its dark green boughs (Mid which the May-thorn blends its blossoms white) Where broad smooth stones jut out in mossy seats, 10 I rest:--and now have gain'd the topmost site. Ah! what a luxury of landscape meets My gaze! Proud towers, and Cots more dear to me, Elm-shadow'd Fields, and prospect-bounding Sea! Deep sighs my lonely heart: I drop the tear: 15 Enchanting spot! O were my Sara here!

FOOTNOTES:

[94:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797 (_Supplement_), 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxi. Composed while climbing the Left Ascent of Brockley Coomb, in the County of Somerset, May 1795 1796: Sonnet v. Composed, &c. 1797: Sonnet xiv. Composed, &c. 1803.

[7] deep] forc'd 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

LINES IN THE MANNER OF SPENSER[94:2]

O Peace, that on a lilied bank dost love To rest thine head beneath an Olive-Tree, I would that from the pinions of thy Dove One quill withouten pain ypluck'd might be! For O! I wish my Sara's frowns to flee, 5 And fain to her some soothing song would write, Lest she resent my rude discourtesy, Who vow'd to meet her ere the morning light, But broke my plighted word--ah! false and recreant wight!

Last night as I my weary head did pillow 10 With thoughts of my dissever'd Fair engross'd, Chill Fancy droop'd wreathing herself with willow, As though my breast entomb'd a pining ghost. 'From some blest couch, young Rapture's bridal boast, Rejected Slumber! hither wing thy way; 15 But leave me with the matin hour, at most! As night-clos'd floweret to the orient ray, My sad heart will expand, when I the Maid survey.'

But Love, who heard the silence of my thought, Contriv'd a too successful wile, I ween: 20 And whisper'd to himself, with malice fraught-- 'Too long our Slave the Damsel's _smiles_ hath seen: To-morrow shall he ken her alter'd mien!' He spake, and ambush'd lay, till on my bed The morning shot her dewy glances keen, 25 When as I 'gan to lift my drowsy head-- 'Now, Bard! I'll work thee woe!' the laughing Elfin said.

Sleep, softly-breathing God! his downy wing Was fluttering now, as quickly to depart; When twang'd an arrow from Love's mystic string, 30 With pathless wound it pierc'd him to the heart. Was there some magic in the Elfin's dart? Or did he strike my couch with wizard lance? For straight so fair a Form did upwards start (No fairer deck'd the bowers of old Romance) 35 That Sleep enamour'd grew, nor mov'd from his sweet trance!

My Sara came, with gentlest look divine; Bright shone her eye, yet tender was its beam: I felt the pressure of her lip to mine! Whispering we went, and Love was all our theme-- 40 Love pure and spotless, as at first, I deem, He sprang from Heaven! Such joys with Sleep did 'bide, That I the living Image of my Dream Fondly forgot. Too late I woke, and sigh'd-- 'O! how shall I behold my Love at eventide!' 45

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[94:2] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxiv. In the, &c. 1796: In the, &c. 1797.

[17] Like snowdrop opening to the solar ray, 1796.

[19] 'heard the silence of my thought' 1797, 1803.

[26] to lift] uplift 1797, 1803.

[Below l. 45] July 1795 1797, 1803.

THE HOUR WHEN WE SHALL MEET AGAIN[96:1]

(_Composed during Illness, and in Absence._)

Dim Hour! that sleep'st on pillowing clouds afar, O rise and yoke the Turtles to thy car! Bend o'er the traces, blame each lingering Dove, And give me to the bosom of my Love! My gentle Love, caressing and carest, 5 With heaving heart shall cradle me to rest! Shed the warm tear-drop from her smiling eyes, Lull with fond woe, and medicine me with sighs! While finely-flushing float her kisses meek, Like melted rubies, o'er my pallid cheek. 10 Chill'd by the night, the drooping Rose of May Mourns the long absence of the lovely Day; Young Day returning at her promis'd hour Weeps o'er the sorrows of her favourite Flower; Weeps the soft dew, the balmy gale she sighs, 15 And darts a trembling lustre from her eyes. New life and joy th' expanding flow'ret feels: His pitying Mistress mourns, and mourning heals!

? 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[96:1] First published in _The Watchman_, No. III, March 17, 1796 (_signed_ C.): included in 1797, 1803, 1844, and 1852. It was first reprinted, after 1803, in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 43, under 'the sportive title "Darwiniana", on the supposition that it was written' in half-mockery of Darwin's style with its _dulcia vitia_. (See 1852, _Notes_, p. 885.)

LINENOTES:

Title] Darwiniana. The Hour, &c. L. R., 1844: Composed during illness and absence 1852.

[9-10] om. 1803.

[14] her] the Lit. Rem., 1844, 1852.

[17] New] Now Watchman.

LINES[96:2]

WRITTEN AT SHURTON BARS, NEAR BRIDGEWATER, SEPTEMBER 1795, IN ANSWER TO A LETTER FROM BRISTOL

Good verse _most_ good, and bad verse then seems better Receiv'd from absent friend by way of Letter. For what so sweet can labour'd lays impart As one rude rhyme warm from a friendly heart?--ANON.

Nor travels my meandering eye The starry wilderness on high; Nor now with curious sight I mark the glow-worm, as I pass, Move with 'green radiance'[97:1] through the grass, 5 An emerald of light.

O ever present to my view! My wafted spirit is with you, And soothes your boding fears: I see you all oppressed with gloom 10 Sit lonely in that cheerless room-- Ah me! You are in tears!

Belovéd Woman! did you fly Chill'd Friendship's dark disliking eye, Or Mirth's untimely din? 15 With cruel weight these trifles press A temper sore with tenderness, When aches the void within.

But why with sable wand unblessed Should Fancy rouse within my breast 20 Dim-visag'd shapes of Dread? Untenanting its beauteous clay My Sara's soul has wing'd its way, And hovers round my head!

I felt it prompt the tender Dream, 25 When slowly sank the day's last gleam; You rous'd each gentler sense, As sighing o'er the Blossom's bloom Meek Evening wakes its soft perfume With viewless influence. 30

And hark, my Love! The sea-breeze moans Through yon reft house! O'er rolling stones In bold ambitious sweep The onward-surging tides supply The silence of the cloudless sky 35 With mimic thunders deep.

Dark reddening from the channell'd Isle[98:1] (Where stands one solitary pile Unslated by the blast) The Watchfire, like a sullen star 40 Twinkles to many a dozing Tar Rude cradled on the mast.

Even there--beneath that light-house tower-- In the tumultuous evil hour Ere Peace with Sara came, 45 Time was, I should have thought it sweet To count the echoings of my feet, And watch the storm-vex'd flame.

And there in black soul-jaundic'd fit A sad gloom-pamper'd Man to sit, 50 And listen to the roar: When mountain surges bellowing deep With an uncouth monster-leap Plung'd foaming on the shore.

Then by the lightning's blaze to mark 55 Some toiling tempest-shatter'd bark; Her vain distress-guns hear; And when a second sheet of light Flash'd o'er the blackness of the night-- To see _no_ vessel there! 60

But Fancy now more gaily sings; Or if awhile she droop her wings, As skylarks 'mid the corn, On summer fields she grounds her breast: The oblivious poppy o'er her nest 65 Nods, till returning morn.

O mark those smiling tears, that swell The open'd rose! From heaven they fell, And with the sun-beam blend. Blest visitations from above, 70 Such are the tender woes of Love Fostering the heart they bend!

When stormy Midnight howling round Beats on our roof with clattering sound, To me your arms you'll stretch: 75 Great God! you'll say--To us so kind, O shelter from this loud bleak wind The houseless, friendless wretch!

The tears that tremble down your cheek, Shall bathe my kisses chaste and meek 80 In Pity's dew divine; And from your heart the sighs that steal Shall make your rising bosom feel The answering swell of mine!

How oft, my Love! with shapings sweet 85 I paint the moment, we shall meet! With eager speed I dart-- I seize you in the vacant air, And fancy, with a husband's care I press you to my heart! 90

'Tis said, in Summer's evening hour Flashes the golden-colour'd flower A fair electric flame:[99:1] And so shall flash my love-charg'd eye When all the heart's big ecstasy 95 Shoots rapid through the frame!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[96:1] First published in _The Watchman_, No. III, March 9, 1796 (_signed_ C.): included in 1797, 1803, 1844, and 1852. It was first reprinted, after 1803, in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 43, under 'the sportive title "Darwiniana", on the supposition that it was written' in half-mockery of Darwin's style with its _dulcia vitia_. (See 1852, _Notes_, p. 885.)

[96:2] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[97:1] The expression 'green radiance' is borrowed from Mr. Wordsworth, a Poet whose versification is occasionally harsh and his diction too frequently obscure; but whom I deem unrivalled among the writers of the present day in manly sentiment, novel imagery, and vivid colouring. Note, 1796, p. 185: Footnote, 1797, p. 88.

[The phrase 'green radiance' occurs in _An Evening Walk_, ll. 264-8, first published in 1793, and reprinted in 1820. In 1836 the lines were omitted.

Oft has she taught them on her lap to play Delighted with the glow-worm's harmless ray, Toss'd light from hand to hand; while on the ground Small circles of green radiance gleam around.]

[98:1] The Holmes, in the Bristol Channel.

[99:1] LIGHT _from plants_. In Sweden a very curious phenomenon has been observed on certain flowers, by M. Haggern, lecturer in natural history. One evening he perceived a faint flash of light repeatedly dart from a marigold. Surprised at such an uncommon appearance, he resolved to examine it with attention; and, to be assured it was no deception of the eye, he placed a man near him, with orders to make a signal at the moment when he observed the light. They both saw it constantly at the same moment.

The light was most brilliant on marigolds of an orange or flame colour; but scarcely visible on pale ones. The flash was frequently seen on the same flower two or three times in quick succession; but more commonly at intervals of several minutes; and when several flowers in the same place emitted their light together, it could be observed at a considerable distance.

This phenomenon was remarked in the months of July and August at sun-set, and for half an hour when the atmosphere was clear; but after a rainy day, or when the air was loaded with vapours nothing of it was seen.

The following flowers emitted flashes, more or less vivid, in this order:--

1. The marigold, _galendula [sic] officinalis_. 2. Monk's-hood, _tropaelum [sic] majus_. 3. The orange-lily, _lilium bulbiferum_. 4. The Indian pink, _tagetes patula et erecta_.

From the rapidity of the flash, and other circumstances, it may be conjectured that there is something of electricity in this phenomenon. Notes to _Poems_, 1796. Note 13, pp. 186, 188.

In 1797 the above was printed as a footnote on pp. 93, 94. In 1803 the last stanza, lines 91-96, was omitted, and, of course, the note disappeared. In 1828, 1829, and 1834 the last stanza was replaced but the note was not reprinted.

LINENOTES:

Title] Epistle I. Lines written, &c. The motto is printed on the reverse of the half-title 'Poetical Epistles' [pp. 109, 110]. 1796: Ode to Sara, written at Shurton Bars, &c. 1797, 1803. The motto is omitted in 1797, 1803: The motto is prefixed to the poem in 1828, 1829, and 1834. In 1797 and 1803 a note is appended to the title:--Note. _The first stanza alludes to a Passage in the Letter._ [The allusions to a 'Passage in the Letter' must surely be contained not in the first but in the second and third stanzas. The reference is, no doubt, to the alienation from Southey, which must have led to a difference of feeling between the two sisters Sarah and Edith Fricker.]

[26] sank] sunk 1796-1829.

[33] With broad impetuous 1797, 1803.

[34] fast-encroaching 1797, 1803.

[48] storm-vex'd] troubled 1797, 1803.

[49] black and jaundic'd fit 1797.

THE EOLIAN HARP[100:1]

COMPOSED AT CLEVEDON, SOMERSETSHIRE

My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclined Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o'ergrown With white-flower'd Jasmin, and the broad-leav'd Myrtle, (Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love!) 5 And watch the clouds, that late were rich with light, Slow saddening round, and mark the star of eve Serenely brilliant (such should Wisdom be) Shine opposite! How exquisite the scents Snatch'd from yon bean-field! and the world _so_ hush'd! 10 The stilly murmur of the distant Sea Tells us of silence.

And that simplest Lute, Placed length-ways in the clasping casement, hark! How by the desultory breeze caress'd, Like some coy maid half yielding to her lover, 15 It pours such sweet upbraiding, as must needs Tempt to repeat the wrong! And now, its strings Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes Over delicious surges sink and rise, Such a soft floating witchery of sound 20 As twilight Elfins make, when they at eve Voyage on gentle gales from Fairy-Land, Where Melodies round honey-dropping flowers, Footless and wild, like birds of Paradise, Nor pause, nor perch, hovering on untam'd wing! 25 O! the one Life within us and abroad, Which meets all motion and becomes its soul, A light in sound, a sound-like power in light, Rhythm in all thought, and joyance every where-- Methinks, it should have been impossible 30 Not to love all things in a world so fill'd; Where the breeze warbles, and the mute still air Is Music slumbering on her instrument.

And thus, my Love! as on the midway slope Of yonder hill I stretch my limbs at noon, 35 Whilst through my half-closed eye-lids I behold The sunbeams dance, like diamonds, on the main, And tranquil muse upon tranquillity; Full many a thought uncall'd and undetain'd, And many idle flitting phantasies, 40 Traverse my indolent and passive brain, As wild and various as the random gales That swell and flutter on this subject Lute!

And what if all of animated nature Be but organic Harps diversely fram'd, 45 That tremble into thought, as o'er them sweeps Plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze, At once the Soul of each, and God of all?

But thy more serious eye a mild reproof Darts, O belovéd Woman! nor such thoughts 50 Dim and unhallow'd dost thou not reject, And biddest me walk humbly with my God. Meek Daughter in the family of Christ! Well hast thou said and holily disprais'd These shapings of the unregenerate mind; 55 Bubbles that glitter as they rise and break On vain Philosophy's aye-babbling spring. For never guiltless may I speak of him, The Incomprehensible! save when with awe I praise him, and with Faith that inly _feels_;[102:1] 60 Who with his saving mercies healéd me, A sinful and most miserable man, Wilder'd and dark, and gave me to possess Peace, and this Cot, and thee, heart-honour'd Maid!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[100:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[102:1] L'athée n'est point à mes yeux un faux esprit; je puis vivre avec lui aussi bien et mieux qu'avec le dévot, car il raisonne davantage, mais il lui manque un sens, et mon ame ne se fond point entièrement avec la sienne: il est froid au spectacle le plus ravissant, et il cherche un syllogisme lorsque je rends une [un _1797_, _1803_] action de grace. 'Appel a l'impartiale postérité', par la Citoyenne Roland, troisième partie, p. 67. Notes to _Poems_. Note 10, 1796, p. 183. The above was printed as a footnote to p. 99, 1797, and to p. 132, 1803.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxxv. Composed August 20th, 1795, At Clevedon, Somersetshire 1796. Composed at Clevedon Somersetshire 1797, 1803: The Eolian Harp. Composed, &c. S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[5] om. 1803.

[8] om. 1803.

[11] Hark! the still murmur 1803.

[12] And th' Eolian Lute, 1803.

[13] om. 1803.

[16] upbraiding] upbraidings 1796, 1797, 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1817.

Lines 21-33 are om. in 1803, and the text reads:

_Such a soft floating witchery of sound_-- Methinks, it should have been impossible Not to love all things in a World like this, Where e'en the Breezes of the simple Air Possess the power and Spirit of Melody! _And thus, my Love_, &c.

26-33 are not in 1796, 1797. In Sibylline Leaves, for lines 26-33 of the text, four lines are inserted:

Methinks it should have been impossible Not to love all things in a world like this, Where even the breezes, and the common air, Contain the power and spirit of Harmony.

Lines 26-33 were first included in the text in 1828, and reappeared in 1829 and 1834. They are supplied in the _Errata_, pp. [xi, xii], of Sibylline Leaves, with a single variant (l. 33): Is Music slumbering on _its_ instrument.

[44] And] Or 1796, 1797, 1803.

[64] dear honoured Maid 1893.

TO THE AUTHOR OF POEMS[102:2]

[JOSEPH COTTLE]

PUBLISHED ANONYMOUSLY AT BRISTOL IN SEPTEMBER 1795

Unboastful Bard! whose verse concise yet clear Tunes to smooth melody unconquer'd sense, May your fame fadeless live, as 'never-sere' The Ivy wreathes yon Oak, whose broad defence Embowers me from Noon's sultry influence! 5 For, like that nameless Rivulet stealing by, Your modest verse to musing Quiet dear Is rich with tints heaven-borrow'd: the charm'd eye Shall gaze undazzled there, and love the soften'd sky.

Circling the base of the Poetic mount 10 A stream there is, which rolls in lazy flow Its coal-black waters from Oblivion's fount: The vapour-poison'd Birds, that fly too low, Fall with dead swoop, and to the bottom go. Escaped that heavy stream on pinion fleet 15 Beneath the Mountain's lofty-frowning brow, Ere aught of perilous ascent you meet, A mead of mildest charm delays th' unlabouring feet.

Not there the cloud-climb'd rock, sublime and vast, That like some giant king, o'er-glooms the hill; 20 Nor there the Pine-grove to the midnight blast Makes solemn music! But th' unceasing rill To the soft Wren or Lark's descending trill Murmurs sweet undersong 'mid jasmin bowers. In this same pleasant meadow, at your will 25 I ween, you wander'd--there collecting flowers Of sober tint, and herbs of med'cinable powers!

There for the monarch-murder'd Soldier's tomb You wove th' unfinish'd[103:1] wreath of saddest hues; And to that holier[103:2] chaplet added bloom 30 Besprinkling it with Jordan's cleansing dews. But lo your Henderson[103:3] awakes the Muse---- His Spirit beckon'd from the mountain's height! You left the plain and soar'd mid richer views! So Nature mourn'd when sunk the First Day's light, 35 With stars, unseen before, spangling her robe of night!

Still soar, my Friend, those richer views among, Strong, rapid, fervent, flashing Fancy's beam! Virtue and Truth shall love your gentler song; But Poesy demands th' impassion'd theme: 40 Waked by Heaven's silent dews at Eve's mild gleam What balmy sweets Pomona breathes around! But if the vext air rush a stormy stream Or Autumn's shrill gust moan in plaintive sound, With fruits and flowers she loads the tempest-honor'd ground.

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[102:2] First published in 1796: included in 1797 (_Supplement_), 1803, and 1852.

'The first in order of the 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.' 'Advertisement' to _Supplement_, 1797, pp. 243, 244.

[103:1] 'War,' a Fragment.

[103:2] 'John Baptist,' a poem.

[103:3] 'Monody on John Henderson.'

LINENOTES:

Title] Epistle iv. To the Author, &c. 1796: Lines to Joseph Cottle 1797: To the Author, &c., _with footnote_, 'Mr. Joseph Cottle' 1803.

[1] Unboastful Bard] My honor'd friend 1797.

[35] sunk] sank 1797.

THE SILVER THIMBLE[104:1]

THE PRODUCTION OF A YOUNG LADY, ADDRESSED TO THE AUTHOR OF THE POEMS ALLUDED TO IN THE PRECEDING EPISTLE

_She had lost her Silver Thimble, and her complaint being accidentally overheard by him, her Friend, he immediately sent her four others to take her choice of._

As oft mine eye with careless glance Has gallop'd thro' some old romance, Of speaking Birds and Steeds with wings, Giants and Dwarfs, and Fiends and Kings; Beyond the rest with more attentive care 5 I've lov'd to read of elfin-favour'd Fair---- How if she long'd for aught beneath the sky And suffer'd to escape one votive sigh, Wafted along on viewless pinions aery It laid itself obsequious at her feet: 10 Such things, I thought, one might not hope to meet Save in the dear delicious land of Faery! But now (by proof I know it well) There's still some peril in free wishing---- _Politeness_ is a licensed _spell_, 15 And _you_, dear Sir! the Arch-magician. You much perplex'd me by the various set: They were indeed an elegant quartette! My mind went to and fro, and waver'd long; At length I've chosen (Samuel thinks me wrong) 20 _That_, around whose azure rim Silver figures seem to swim, Like fleece-white clouds, that on the skiey Blue, Waked by no breeze, the self-same shapes retain; Or ocean-Nymphs with limbs of snowy hue 25 Slow-floating o'er the calm cerulean plain.

Just such a one, _mon cher ami_, (The finger shield of industry) Th' inventive Gods, I deem, to Pallas gave What time the vain Arachne, madly brave, 30 Challeng'd the blue-eyed Virgin of the sky A duel in embroider'd work to try. And hence the thimbled Finger of grave Pallas To th' erring Needle's point was more than callous. But ah the poor Arachne! She unarm'd 35 Blundering thro' hasty eagerness, alarm'd With all a _Rival's_ hopes, a _Mortal's_ fears, Still miss'd the stitch, and stain'd the web with tears. Unnumber'd punctures small yet sore Full fretfully the maiden bore, 40 Till she her lily finger found Crimson'd with many a tiny wound; And to her eyes, suffus'd with watery woe, Her flower-embroider'd web danc'd dim, I wist, Like blossom'd shrubs in a quick-moving mist: 45 Till vanquish'd the despairing Maid sunk low.

O Bard! whom sure no common Muse inspires, I heard your Verse that glows with vestal fires! And I from unwatch'd needle's erring point Had surely suffer'd on each finger-joint 50 Those wounds, which erst did poor Arachne meet; While he, the much-lov'd Object of my choice (My bosom thrilling with enthusiast heat), Pour'd on mine ear with deep impressive voice, How the great Prophet of the Desart stood 55 And preach'd of Penitence by Jordan's Flood; On War; or else the legendary lays In simplest measures hymn'd to Alla's praise; Or what the Bard from his heart's inmost stores O'er his _Friend's_ grave in loftier numbers pours: 60 Yes, Bard polite! you but obey'd the laws Of Justice, when the thimble you had sent; What wounds your thought-bewildering Muse might cause 'Tis well your finger-shielding gifts prevent. SARA.

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[104:1] First published in 1796: included for the first time in Appendix to 1863. Mrs. Coleridge told her daughter (_Biog. Lit._, 1847, ii. 411) that she wrote but little of these verses.

LINENOTES:

Title] Epistle v. The Production of a Young Lady, &c. 1796: From a Young Lady Appendix, 1863.

REFLECTIONS ON HAVING LEFT A PLACE OF RETIREMENT[106:1]

Sermoni propriora.--HOR.

Low was our pretty Cot: our tallest Rose Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could hear At silent noon, and eve, and early morn, The Sea's faint murmur. In the open air Our Myrtles blossom'd; and across the porch 5 Thick Jasmins twined: the little landscape round Was green and woody, and refresh'd the eye. It was a spot which you might aptly call The Valley of Seclusion! Once I saw (Hallowing his Sabbath-day by quietness) 10 A wealthy son of Commerce saunter by, Bristowa's citizen: methought, it calm'd His thirst of idle gold, and made him muse With wiser feelings: for he paus'd, and look'd With a pleas'd sadness, and gaz'd all around, 15 Then eyed our Cottage, and gaz'd round again, And sigh'd, and said, it was a Blesséd Place. And we _were_ bless'd. Oft with patient ear Long-listening to the viewless sky-lark's note (Viewless, or haply for a moment seen 20 Gleaming on sunny wings) in whisper'd tones I've said to my Belovéd, 'Such, sweet Girl! The inobtrusive song of Happiness, Unearthly minstrelsy! then only heard When the Soul seeks to hear; when all is hush'd, 25 And the Heart listens!'

But the time, when first From that low Dell, steep up the stony Mount I climb'd with perilous toil and reach'd the top, Oh! what a goodly scene! _Here_ the bleak mount, The bare bleak mountain speckled thin with sheep; 30 Grey clouds, that shadowing spot the sunny fields; And river, now with bushy rocks o'er-brow'd, Now winding bright and full, with naked banks; And seats, and lawns, the Abbey and the wood, And cots, and hamlets, and faint city-spire; 35 The Channel _there_, the Islands and white sails, Dim coasts, and cloud-like hills, and shoreless Ocean-- It seem'd like Omnipresence! God, methought, Had built him there a Temple: the whole World Seem'd _imag'd_ in its vast circumference: 40 No _wish_ profan'd my overwhelméd heart. Blest hour! It was a luxury,--to be!

Ah! quiet Dell! dear Cot, and Mount sublime! I was constrain'd to quit you. Was it right, While my unnumber'd brethren toil'd and bled, 45 That I should dream away the entrusted hours On rose-leaf beds, pampering the coward heart With feelings all too delicate for use? Sweet is the tear that from some Howard's eye Drops on the cheek of one he lifts from earth: 50 And he that works me good with unmov'd face, Does it but half: he chills me while he aids, My benefactor, not my brother man! Yet even this, this cold beneficence Praise, praise it, O my Soul! oft as thou scann'st 55 The sluggard Pity's vision-weaving tribe! Who sigh for Wretchedness, yet shun the Wretched, Nursing in some delicious solitude Their slothful loves and dainty sympathies! I therefore go, and join head, heart, and hand, 60 Active and firm, to fight the bloodless fight Of Science, Freedom, and the Truth in Christ.

Yet oft when after honourable toil Bests the tir'd mind, and waking loves to dream, My spirit shall revisit thee, dear Cot! 65 Thy Jasmin and thy window-peeping Rose, And Myrtles fearless of the mild sea-air. And I shall sigh fond wishes--sweet Abode! Ah!--had none greater! And that all had such! It might be so--but the time is not yet. 70 Speed it, O Father! Let thy Kingdom come!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[106:1] First published in the _Monthly Magazine_, October, 1796, vol. ii, p. 712: included in 1797, 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Reflections on entering into active life. A Poem which affects not to be Poetry M. Mag. _The motto was prefixed in 1797._

[12-17]

Bristowa's citizen--he paus'd and look'd With a pleased sadness and gaz'd all around, Then eye'd our cottage and gaz'd round again, And said it was a _blessed little place_.

Monthly Magazine.

[17]

And sigh'd, and said, _it was a blessed place_.

1797, 1803.

[21] wings] wing M. M., 1797, 1803, S. L.

[21-3]

Gleaming on sunny wing,) 'And such,' I said, 'The inobtrusive song

1803.

[40] Was imag'd M. M.

[46] entrusted] trusted M. M., 1797.

[55] Seizes my Praise, when I reflect on those 1797, 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1817 (line as in text supplied in _Errata_).

[69] none] _none_ M. M. all] _all_ M. M.

[70-1] om. 1803.

RELIGIOUS MUSINGS[108:1]

A DESULTORY POEM, WRITTEN ON THE CHRISTMAS EVE OF 1794

This is the time, when most divine to hear, The voice of Adoration rouses me, As with a Cherub's trump: and high upborne, Yea, mingling with the Choir, I seem to view The vision of the heavenly multitude, 5 Who hymned the song of Peace o'er Bethlehem's fields! Yet thou more bright than all the Angel-blaze, That harbingered thy birth, Thou Man of Woes! Despiséd Galilaean! For the Great Invisible (by symbols only seen) 10 With a peculiar and surpassing light Shines from the visage of the oppressed good man, When heedless of himself the scourgéd saint Mourns for the oppressor. Fair the vernal mead, Fair the high grove, the sea, the sun, the stars; 15 True impress each of their creating Sire! Yet nor high grove, nor many-colour'd mead, Nor the green ocean with his thousand isles, Nor the starred azure, nor the sovran sun, E'er with such majesty of portraiture 20 Imaged the supreme beauty uncreate, As thou, meek Saviour! at the fearful hour When thy insulted anguish winged the prayer Harped by Archangels, when they sing of mercy! Which when the Almighty heard from forth his throne 25 Diviner light filled Heaven with ecstasy! Heaven's hymnings paused: and Hell her yawning mouth Closed a brief moment.

Lovely was the death Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with power He on the thought-benighted Sceptic beamed 30 Manifest Godhead, melting into day What floating mists of dark idolatry Broke and misshaped the omnipresent Sire:[110:1] And first by Fear uncharmed the drowséd Soul. Till of its nobler nature it 'gan feel 35 Dim recollections; and thence soared to Hope, Strong to believe whate'er of mystic good The Eternal dooms for His immortal sons. From Hope and firmer Faith to perfect Love Attracted and absorbed: and centered there 40 God only to behold, and know, and feel, Till by exclusive consciousness of God All self-annihilated it shall make[110:2] God its Identity: God all in all! We and our Father one!

And blest are they, 45 Who in this fleshly World, the elect of Heaven, Their strong eye darting through the deeds of men, Adore with steadfast unpresuming gaze Him Nature's essence, mind, and energy! And gazing, trembling, patiently ascend 50 Treading beneath their feet all visible things As steps, that upward to their Father's throne Lead gradual--else nor glorified nor loved. They nor contempt embosom nor revenge: For they dare know of what may seem deform 55 The Supreme Fair sole operant: in whose sight All things are pure, his strong controlling love Alike from all educing perfect good. Their's too celestial courage, inly armed-- Dwarfing Earth's giant brood, what time they muse 60 On their great Father, great beyond compare! And marching onwards view high o'er their heads His waving banners of Omnipotence. Who the Creator love, created Might Dread not: within their tents no Terrors walk. 65 For they are holy things before the Lord Aye unprofaned, though Earth should league with Hell; God's altar grasping with an eager hand Fear, the wild-visag'd, pale, eye-starting wretch, Sure-refug'd hears his hot pursuing fiends 70 Yell at vain distance. Soon refresh'd from Heaven He calms the throb and tempest of his heart. His countenance settles; a soft solemn bliss Swims in his eye--his swimming eye uprais'd: And Faith's whole armour glitters on his limbs! 75 And thus transfigured with a dreadless awe, A solemn hush of soul, meek he beholds All things of terrible seeming: yea, unmoved Views e'en the immitigable ministers That shower down vengeance on these latter days. 80 For kindling with intenser Deity From the celestial Mercy-seat they come, And at the renovating wells of Love Have fill'd their vials with salutary wrath,[112:1] To sickly Nature more medicinal 85 Than what soft balm the weeping good man pours Into the lone despoiléd traveller's wounds!

Thus from the Elect, regenerate through faith, Pass the dark Passions and what thirsty cares[112:2] Drink up the spirit, and the dim regards 90 Self-centre. Lo they vanish! or acquire New names, new features--by supernal grace Enrobed with Light, and naturalised in Heaven. As when a shepherd on a vernal morn Through some thick fog creeps timorous with slow foot, 95 Darkling he fixes on the immediate road His downward eye: all else of fairest kind Hid or deformed. But lo! the bursting Sun! Touched by the enchantment of that sudden beam Straight the black vapour melteth, and in globes 100 Of dewy glitter gems each plant and tree; On every leaf, on every blade it hangs! Dance glad the new-born intermingling rays, And wide around the landscape streams with glory!

There is one Mind, one omnipresent Mind, 105 Omnific. His most holy name is Love. Truth of subliming import! with the which Who feeds and saturates his constant soul, He from his small particular orbit flies With blest outstarting! From himself he flies, 110 Stands in the sun, and with no partial gaze Views all creation; and he loves it all, And blesses it, and calls it very good! This is indeed to dwell with the Most High! Cherubs and rapture-trembling Seraphim 115 Can press no nearer to the Almighty's throne. But that we roam unconscious, or with hearts Unfeeling of our universal Sire, And that in His vast family no Cain Injures uninjured (in her best-aimed blow 120 Victorious Murder a blind Suicide) Haply for this some younger Angel now Looks down on Human Nature: and, behold! A sea of blood bestrewed with wrecks, where mad Embattling Interests on each other rush 125 With unhelmed rage!

'Tis the sublime of man, Our noontide Majesty, to know ourselves Parts and proportions of one wondrous whole! This fraternises man, this constitutes Our charities and bearings. But 'tis God 130 Diffused through all, that doth make all one whole; This the worst superstition, him except Aught to desire, Supreme Reality![114:1] The plenitude and permanence of bliss! O Fiends of Superstition! not that oft 135 The erring Priest hath stained with brother's blood Your grisly idols, not for this may wrath Thunder against you from the Holy One! But o'er some plain that steameth to the sun, Peopled with Death; or where more hideous Trade 140 Loud-laughing packs his bales of human anguish; I will raise up a mourning, O ye Fiends! And curse your spells, that film the eye of Faith, Hiding the present God; whose presence lost, The moral world's cohesion, we become 145 An Anarchy of Spirits! Toy-bewitched, Made blind by lusts, disherited of soul, No common centre Man, no common sire Knoweth! A sordid solitary thing, Mid countless brethren with a lonely heart 150 Through courts and cities the smooth savage roams Feeling himself, his own low self the whole; When he by sacred sympathy might make The whole one Self! Self, that no alien knows! Self, far diffused as Fancy's wing can travel! 155 Self, spreading still! Oblivious of its own, Yet all of all possessing! This is Faith! This the Messiah's destined victory!

But first offences needs must come! Even now[115:1] (Black Hell laughs horrible--to hear the scoff!) 160 Thee to defend, meek Galilaean! Thee And thy mild laws of Love unutterable, Mistrust and Enmity have burst the bands Of social peace: and listening Treachery lurks With pious fraud to snare a brother's life; 165 And childless widows o'er the groaning land Wail numberless; and orphans weep for bread! Thee to defend, dear Saviour of Mankind! Thee, Lamb of God! Thee, blameless Prince of Peace! From all sides rush the thirsty brood of War!-- 170 Austria, and that foul Woman of the North, The lustful murderess of her wedded lord! And he, connatural Mind![115:2] whom (in their songs So bards of elder time had haply feigned) Some Fury fondled in her hate to man, 175 Bidding her serpent hair in mazy surge Lick his young face, and at his mouth imbreathe Horrible sympathy! And leagued with these Each petty German princeling, nursed in gore! Soul-hardened barterers of human blood![116:1] 180 Death's prime slave-merchants! Scorpion-whips of Fate! Nor least in savagery of holy zeal, Apt for the yoke, the race degenerate, Whom Britain erst had blushed to call her sons! Thee to defend the Moloch Priest prefers 185 The prayer of hate, and bellows to the herd, That Deity, Accomplice Deity In the fierce jealousy of wakened wrath Will go forth with our armies and our fleets To scatter the red ruin on their foes! 190 O blasphemy! to mingle fiendish deeds With blessedness!

Lord of unsleeping Love,[116:2] From everlasting Thou! We shall not die. These, even these, in mercy didst thou form, Teachers of Good through Evil, by brief wrong 195 Making Truth lovely, and her future might Magnetic o'er the fixed untrembling heart.

In the primeval age a dateless while The vacant Shepherd wander'd with his flock, Pitching his tent where'er the green grass waved. 200 But soon Imagination conjured up An host of new desires: with busy aim, Each for himself, Earth's eager children toiled. So Property began, twy-streaming fount, Whence Vice and Virtue flow, honey and gall. 205 Hence the soft couch, and many-coloured robe, The timbrel, and arched dome and costly feast, With all the inventive arts, that nursed the soul To forms of beauty, and by sensual wants Unsensualised the mind, which in the means 210 Learnt to forget the grossness of the end, Best pleasured with its own activity. And hence Disease that withers manhood's arm, The daggered Envy, spirit-quenching Want, Warriors, and Lords, and Priests--all the sore ills[117:1] 215 That vex and desolate our mortal life. Wide-wasting ills! yet each the immediate source Of mightier good. Their keen necessities To ceaseless action goading human thought Have made Earth's reasoning animal her Lord; 220 And the pale-featured Sage's trembling hand Strong as an host of arméd Deities, Such as the blind Ionian fabled erst.

From Avarice thus, from Luxury and War Sprang heavenly Science; and from Science Freedom. 225 O'er waken'd realms Philosophers and Bards Spread in concentric circles: they whose souls, Conscious of their high dignities from God, Brook not Wealth's rivalry! and they, who long Enamoured with the charms of order, hate 230 The unseemly disproportion: and whoe'er Turn with mild sorrow from the Victor's car And the low puppetry of thrones, to muse On that blest triumph, when the Patriot Sage[118:1] Called the red lightnings from the o'er-rushing cloud 235 And dashed the beauteous terrors on the earth Smiling majestic. Such a phalanx ne'er Measured firm paces to the calming sound Of Spartan flute! These on the fated day, When, stung to rage by Pity, eloquent men 240 Have roused with pealing voice the unnumbered tribes That toil and groan and bleed, hungry and blind-- These, hush'd awhile with patient eye serene, Shall watch the mad careering of the storm; Then o'er the wild and wavy chaos rush 245 And tame the outrageous mass, with plastic might Moulding Confusion to such perfect forms, As erst were wont,--bright visions of the day!-- To float before them, when, the summer noon, Beneath some arched romantic rock reclined 250 They felt the sea-breeze lift their youthful locks; Or in the month of blossoms, at mild eve, Wandering with desultory feet inhaled The wafted perfumes, and the flocks and woods And many-tinted streams and setting sun 255 With all his gorgeous company of clouds Ecstatic gazed! then homeward as they strayed Cast the sad eye to earth, and inly mused Why there was misery in a world so fair.

Ah! far removed from all that glads the sense, 260 From all that softens or ennobles Man, The wretched Many! Bent beneath their loads They gape at pageant Power, nor recognise Their cots' transmuted plunder! From the tree Of Knowledge, ere the vernal sap had risen 265 Rudely disbranchéd! Blessed Society! Fitliest depictured by some sun-scorched waste, Where oft majestic through the tainted noon The Simoom sails, before whose purple pomp[119:1] Who falls not prostrate dies! And where by night, 270 Fast by each precious fountain on green herbs The lion couches: or hyaena dips Deep in the lucid stream his bloody jaws; Or serpent plants his vast moon-glittering bulk, Caught in whose monstrous twine Behemoth[119:2] yells, 275 His bones loud-crashing!

O ye numberless, Whom foul Oppression's ruffian gluttony Drives from Life's plenteous feast! O thou poor Wretch Who nursed in darkness and made wild by want, Roamest for prey, yea thy unnatural hand 280 Dost lift to deeds of blood! O pale-eyed form, The victim of seduction, doomed to know Polluted nights and days of blasphemy; Who in loathed orgies with lewd wassailers Must gaily laugh, while thy remembered Home 285 Gnaws like a viper at thy secret heart! O agéd Women! ye who weekly catch The morsel tossed by law-forced charity, And die so slowly, that none call it murder! O loathly suppliants! ye, that unreceived 290 Totter heart-broken from the closing gates Of the full Lazar-house; or, gazing, stand, Sick with despair! O ye to Glory's field Forced or ensnared, who, as ye gasp in death, Bleed with new wounds beneath the vulture's beak! 295 O thou poor widow, who in dreams dost view Thy husband's mangled corse, and from short doze Start'st with a shriek; or in thy half-thatched cot Waked by the wintry night-storm, wet and cold Cow'rst o'er thy screaming baby! Rest awhile 300 Children of Wretchedness! More groans must rise, More blood must stream, or ere your wrongs be full. Yet is the day of Retribution nigh: The Lamb of God hath opened the fifth seal:[120:1] And upward rush on swiftest wing of fire 305 The innumerable multitude of wrongs By man on man inflicted! Rest awhile, Children of Wretchedness! The hour is nigh And lo! the Great, the Rich, the Mighty Men, The Kings and the Chief Captains of the World, 310 With all that fixed on high like stars of Heaven Shot baleful influence, shall be cast to earth, Vile and down-trodden, as the untimely fruit Shook from the fig-tree by a sudden storm. Even now the storm begins:[121:1] each gentle name, 315 Faith and meek Piety, with fearful joy Tremble far-off--for lo! the Giant Frenzy Uprooting empires with his whirlwind arm Mocketh high Heaven; burst hideous from the cell Where the old Hag, unconquerable, huge, 320 Creation's eyeless drudge, black Ruin, sits Nursing the impatient earthquake. O return! Pure Faith! meek Piety! The abhorréd Form[121:2] Whose scarlet robe was stiff with earthly pomp, Who drank iniquity in cups of gold, 325 Whose names were many and all blasphemous, Hath met the horrible judgment! Whence that cry? The mighty army of foul Spirits shrieked Disherited of earth! For she hath fallen On whose black front was written Mystery; 330 She that reeled heavily, whose wine was blood; She that worked whoredom with the Daemon Power, And from the dark embrace all evil things Brought forth and nurtured: mitred Atheism! And patient Folly who on bended knee 335 Gives back the steel that stabbed him; and pale Fear Haunted by ghastlier shapings than surround Moon-blasted Madness when he yells at midnight! Return pure Faith! return meek Piety! The kingdoms of the world are your's: each heart 340 Self-governed, the vast family of Love Raised from the common earth by common toil Enjoy the equal produce. Such delights As float to earth, permitted visitants! When in some hour of solemn jubilee 345 The massy gates of Paradise are thrown Wide open, and forth come in fragments wild Sweet echoes of unearthly melodies, And odours snatched from beds of Amaranth, And they, that from the crystal river of life 350 Spring up on freshened wing, ambrosial gales! The favoured good man in his lonely walk Perceives them, and his silent spirit drinks Strange bliss which he shall recognise in heaven. And such delights, such strange beatitudes 355 Seize on my young anticipating heart When that blest future rushes on my view! For in his own and in his Father's might The Saviour comes! While as the Thousand Years[122:1] Lead up their mystic dance, the Desert shouts! 360 Old Ocean claps his hands! The mighty Dead Rise to new life, whoe'er from earliest time With conscious zeal had urged Love's wondrous plan, Coadjutors of God. To Milton's trump The high groves of the renovated Earth 365 Unbosom their glad echoes: inly hushed, Adoring Newton his serener eye Raises to heaven: and he of mortal kind Wisest, he[123:1] first who marked the ideal tribes Up the fine fibres through the sentient brain. 370 Lo! Priestley there, patriot, and saint, and sage, Him, full of years, from his loved native land Statesmen blood-stained and priests idolatrous By dark lies maddening the blind multitude Drove with vain hate. Calm, pitying he retired, 375 And mused expectant on these promised years.

O Years! the blest pre-eminence of Saints! Ye sweep athwart my gaze, so heavenly bright, The wings that veil the adoring Seraphs' eyes, What time they bend before the Jasper Throne[123:2] 380 Reflect no lovelier hues! Yet ye depart, And all beyond is darkness! Heights most strange, Whence Fancy falls, fluttering her idle wing. For who of woman born may paint the hour, When seized in his mid course, the Sun shall wane 385 Making noon ghastly! Who of woman born May image in the workings of his thought, How the black-visaged, red-eyed Fiend outstretched[124:1] Beneath the unsteady feet of Nature groans, In feverous slumbers--destined then to wake, 390 When fiery whirlwinds thunder his dread name And Angels shout, Destruction! How his arm The last great Spirit lifting high in air Shall swear by Him, the ever-living One, Time is no more!

Believe thou, O my soul,[124:2] 395 Life is a vision shadowy of Truth; And vice, and anguish, and the wormy grave, Shapes of a dream! The veiling clouds retire, And lo! the Throne of the redeeming God Forth flashing unimaginable day 400 Wraps in one blaze earth, heaven, and deepest hell.

Contemplant Spirits! ye that hover o'er With untired gaze the immeasurable fount Ebullient with creative Deity! And ye of plastic power, that interfused 405 Roll through the grosser and material mass In organizing surge! Holies of God! (And what if Monads of the infinite mind?) I haply journeying my immortal course Shall sometime join your mystic choir! Till then 410 I discipline my young and novice thought In ministeries of heart-stirring song, And aye on Meditation's heaven-ward wing Soaring aloft I breathe the empyreal air Of Love, omnific, omnipresent Love, 415 Whose day-spring rises glorious in my soul As the great Sun, when he his influence Sheds on the frost-bound waters--The glad stream Flows to the ray and warbles as it flows.

1794-1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[108:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. Lines 260-357 were published in _The Watchman_, No. II, March 9, 1796, entitled 'The Present State of Society'. In the editions of 1796, 1797, and 1803 the following lines, an adaptation of a passage in the First Book of Akenside's _Pleasures of the Imagination_, were prefixed as a motto:--

What tho' first, In years unseason'd, I attun'd the lay To idle Passion and unreal Woe? Yet serious Truth her empire o'er my song Hath now asserted; Falsehood's evil brood, Vice and deceitful Pleasure, she at once Excluded, and my Fancy's careless toil Drew to the better cause!

An 'Argument' followed on a separate page:--

Introduction. Person of Christ. His prayer on the Cross. The process of his Doctrines on the mind of the Individual. Character of the Elect. Superstition. Digression to the present War. Origin and Uses of Government and Property. The present State of Society. The French Revolution. Millenium. Universal Redemption. Conclusion.

[110:1] Τὸ Νοητὸν διῃρήκασιν εἰς πολλῶν Θεῶν ἰδιότητας. DAMAS. DE MYST. AEGYPT. _Footnote_ to line 34, _1797_, _1803_, _1828_, _1829_. [This note, which should be attached to l. 33, is a comment on the original line 'Split and mishap'd' &c., of 1796. The quotation as translated reads thus:--'Men have split up the Intelligible One into the peculiar attributes of Gods many'.]

[110:2] See this _demonstrated_ by Hartley, vol. 1, p. 114, and vol. 2, p. 329. See it likewise proved, and freed from the charge of Mysticism, by Pistorius in his Notes and Additions to part second of Hartley on Man, Addition the 18th, the 653rd page of the third volume of Hartley, Octavo Edition. _Note_ to line 44, _1797_. [David Hartley's _Observations on Man_ were published in 1749. His son republished them in 1791, with Notes, &c., from the German of H. A. Pistorius, Pastor and Provost of the Synod at Poseritz in the Island of Rügen.]

[112:1] And I heard a great voice out of the Temple saying to the seven Angels, pour out the vials of the wrath of God upon the earth. Revelation, xvi. 1. _Note_ to line 91, _Notes_, 1796, p. 90.

[112:2] Our evil Passions, under the influence of Religion, become innocent, and may be made to animate our virtue--in the same manner as the thick mist melted by the Sun, increases the light which it had before excluded. In the preceding paragraph, agreeably to this truth, we had allegorically narrated the transfiguration of Fear into holy Awe. _Footnote_ to line 91, _1797_: to line 101, _1803_.

[114:1] If to make aught but the Supreme Reality the object of final pursuit, be Superstition; if the attributing of sublime properties to things or persons, which those things or persons neither do or can possess, be Superstition; then Avarice and Ambition are Superstitions: and he who wishes to estimate the evils of Superstition, should transport himself, not to the temple of the Mexican Deities, but to the plains of Flanders, or the coast of Africa.--Such is the sentiment convey'd in this and the subsequent lines. _Footnote_ to line 135, _1797_: to line 143, _1803_.

[115:1] January 21st, 1794, in the debate on the Address to his Majesty, on the speech from the Throne, the Earl of Guildford (_sic_) moved an Amendment to the following effect:--'That the House hoped his Majesty would seize the earliest opportunity to conclude a peace with France,' &c. This motion was opposed by the Duke of Portland, who 'considered the war to be merely grounded on one principle--the preservation of the CHRISTIAN RELIGION'. May 30th, 1794, the Duke of Bedford moved a number of Resolutions, with a view to the Establishment of a Peace with France. He was opposed (among others) by Lord Abingdon in these remarkable words: 'The best road to Peace, my Lords, is WAR! and WAR carried on in the same manner in which we are taught to worship our CREATOR, namely, with all our souls, and with all our minds, and with all our hearts, and with all our strength.' [_Footnote_ to line 159, _1797_, _1803_, _1828_, _1829_, and _1834_.]

[115:2] That Despot who received the wages of an hireling that he might act the part of a swindler, and who skulked from his impotent attacks on the liberties of France to perpetrate more successful iniquity in the plains of _Poland_. _Note_ to line 193. _Notes_, 1796, p. 170.

[116:1] The Father of the present Prince of Hesse Cassell supported himself and his strumpets at Paris by the vast sums which he received from the British Government during the American War for the flesh of his subjects. _Notes_, 1796, p. 176.

[116:2] Art thou not from everlasting, O Lord, mine Holy One? We shall not die. O Lord! thou hast ordained them for judgment, &c. Habakkuk i. 12. _Note_ to line 212. _Notes_, 1796, p. 171. _Footnote, 1828, 1829, 1834._

Art thou not, &c. In this paragraph the Author recalls himself from his indignation against the instruments of Evil, to contemplate the _uses_ of these Evils in the great process of divine Benevolence. In the first age, Men were innocent from ignorance of Vice; they fell, that by the knowledge of consequences they might attain intellectual security, i. e. Virtue, which is a wise and strong-nerv'd Innocence. _Footnote_ to line 196, _1797_: to line 204, _1803_.

[117:1] I deem that the teaching of the gospel for hire is wrong; because it gives the teacher an improper bias in favour of particular opinions on a subject where it is of the last importance that the mind should be perfectly unbiassed. Such is my private opinion; but I mean not to censure all hired teachers, many among whom I know, and venerate as the best and wisest of men--God forbid that I should think of these, when I use the word PRIEST, a name, after which any other term of abhorrence would appear an anti-climax. By a Priest I mean a man who holding the scourge of power in his right hand and a bible (translated by authority) in his left, doth necessarily cause the bible and the scourge to be associated ideas, and so produces that temper of mind which leads to Infidelity--Infidelity which judging of Revelation by the doctrines and practices of established Churches honors God by rejecting Christ. See 'Address to the People', p. 57, sold by Parsons, Paternoster Row. _Note_ to line 235. _Notes_, 1796, pp. 171, 172.

[118:1] Dr. Franklin. _Note_ to line 253. _Notes_, 1796, p. 172.

[119:1] At eleven o'clock, while we contemplated with great pleasure the rugged top of Chiggre, to which we were fast approaching, and where we were to solace ourselves with plenty of good water, IDRIS cried out with a loud voice, 'Fall upon your faces, for here is the Simoom'. I saw from the S.E. an haze come on, in colour like the purple part of the rainbow, but not so compressed or thick. It did not occupy twenty yards in breadth, and was about twelve feet high from the ground.--We all lay flat on the ground, as if dead, till IDRIS told us it was blown over. The meteor, or purple haze, which I saw, was indeed passed; but the light air that still blew was of heat to threaten suffocation. Bruce's _Travels_, vol. 4, p. 557. _Note_ to line 288. _Notes_, 1796, pp. 172, 173.

[119:2] Behemoth, in Hebrew, signifies wild beasts in general. Some believe it is the Elephant, some the Hippopotamus; some affirm it is the Wild Bull. Poetically, it designates any large Quadruped. [Footnote to l. 279, _1797_: to l. 286, _1803_. Reprinted in _1828_, _1829_, and _1834_. The note to l. 294 in _1796_, p. 173 ran thus: Used poetically for a very large quadruped, but in general it designates the elephant.]

[120:1] See the sixth chapter of the Revelation of St. John the Divine.--And I looked and beheld a pale horse; and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the FOURTH part of the Earth to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with pestilence, and with the beasts of the Earth.--And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held; and white robes were given unto every one of them; and it was said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little season, until their fellow servants also, and their brethren that should be killed as they were should be fulfilled. And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, the stars of Heaven fell unto the Earth, even as a fig-tree casteth her untimely figs when she is shaken of a mighty wind] And the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, &c. _Note_ to line 324. _Notes_, 1796, pp. 174, 175.

[121:1] Alluding to the French Revolution _1834_: The French Revolution _1796_: This passage alludes to the French Revolution: and the subsequent paragraph to the downfall of Religious Establishments. I am convinced that the Babylon of the Apocalypse does not apply to Rome exclusively; but to the union of Religion with Power and Wealth, wherever it is found. _Footnote_ to line 320, _1797_, to line 322, _1803_.

[121:2] And there came one of the seven Angels which had the seven vials, and talked with me, saying unto me, come hither! I will show unto thee the judgment of the great Whore, that sitteth upon many waters: with whom the kings of the earth have committed fornication, &c. Revelation of St. John the Divine, chapter the seventeenth. _Note_ to l. 343. _Notes_, 1796, p. 175.

[122:1] The Millenium:--in which I suppose, that Man will continue to enjoy the highest glory, of which his human nature is capable.--That all who in past ages have endeavoured to ameliorate the state of man will rise and enjoy the fruits and flowers, the imperceptible seeds of which they had sown in their former Life: and that the wicked will during the same period, be suffering the remedies adapted to their several bad habits. I suppose that this period will be followed by the passing away of this Earth and by our entering the state of pure intellect; when all Creation shall rest from its labours. _Footnote_ to line 365, _1797_, to line 367, _1803_.

[123:1] David Hartley. [_Footnote_ to line 392, _1796_, to line 375, _1797_, to line 380, _1803_: reprinted in _1828_, _1829_, and _1834_.]

[123:2] Rev. chap. iv. v. 2 and 3.--And immediately I was in the Spirit: and behold, a Throne was set in Heaven and one sat on the Throne. And he that sat was to look upon like a jasper and a sardine stone, &c. [_Footnote_ to line 386, _1797_, to line 389, _1803_: reprinted in _1828_, _1829_, and _1834_.]

[124:1] The final Destruction impersonated. [_Footnote_ to line 394, _1797_, to line 396, _1803_: reprinted in _1828_, _1829_, and _1834_.]

[124:2] This paragraph is intelligible to those, who, like the Author, believe and feel the sublime system of Berkley (_sic_); and the doctrine of the final Happiness of all men. _Footnote_ to line 402, _1797_, to line 405, _1803_.

LINENOTES:

Title] ---- on Christmas Eve. In the year of Our Lord, 1794.

[1-23]

This is the time, when most divine to hear, As with a Cherub's 'loud uplifted' trump The voice of Adoration my thrill'd heart Rouses! And with the rushing noise of wings Transports my spirit to the favor'd fields 5 Of Bethlehem, there in shepherd's guise to sit Sublime of extacy, and mark entranc'd The glory-streaming VISION throng the night.[109:A] Ah not more radiant, nor loud harmonies Hymning more unimaginably sweet 10 With choral songs around th' ETERNAL MIND, The constellated company of WORLDS Danc'd jubilant: what time the startling East Saw from her dark womb leap her flamy child! Glory to God in the Highest! PEACE on Earth! 15 Yet thou more bright than all that Angel Blaze, Despiséd GALILAEAN! Man of Woes! For chiefly in the oppressed Good Man's face The Great Invisible (by symbols seen) Shines with peculiar and concentred light, 20 When all of Self regardless the scourg'd Saint Mourns for th' oppressor. O thou meekest Man! 25 Meek Man and lowliest of the Sons of Men! Who thee beheld thy imag'd Father saw.[109:B] His Power and Wisdom from thy awful eye Blended their beams, and loftier Love sat there Musing on human weal, and that dread hour 30 _When thy insulted_, &c.

1796.

[109:A] And suddenly there was with the Angel a multitude of the heavenly Host, praising God and saying glory to God in the highest and on earth peace. Luke ii. 13 _1796_.

[109:B] Philip saith unto him, Lord! shew us the Father and it sufficeth us. Jesus saith unto him, Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me, Philip? He that hath seen me hath seen the Father. John xiv. 9 _1796_.

[7] Angel-blaze] Angel-Host 1803.

[26] Diviner light flash'd extacy o'er Heaven! 1796.

[32-4]

What mists dim-floating of Idolatry Split and mishap'd the Omnipresent Sire: And first by Terror, Mercy's startling prelude, Uncharm'd the Spirit spell-bound with earthy lusts.

1796.

[39] From Hope and stronger Faith to perfect Love 1796.

[54] embosom] imbosom 1796, 1797, 1803.

[64-71]

They cannot dread created might, who love God the Creator! fair and lofty thought! It lifts and swells my heart! and as I muse, Behold a VISION gathers in my soul, Voices and shadowy shapes! In human guise I seem to see the phantom, FEAR, pass by, Hotly-pursued, and pale! From rock to rock He bounds with bleeding feet, and thro' the swamp, The quicksand and the groaning wilderness, Struggles with feebler and yet feebler flight. But lo! an altar in the wilderness, And eagerly yet feebly lo! he grasps The altar of the living God! and there With wan reverted face the trembling wretch All wildly list'ning to his Hunter-fiends Stands, till the last faint echo of their yell Dies in the distance. _Soon refresh'd from Heaven_ &c.

1803.

[74-7]

Swims in his eyes: his swimming eyes uprais'd: And Faith's whole armour girds his limbs! And thus Transfigur'd, with a meek and dreadless awe, A solemn hush of spirit _he beholds_

1803.

[78-84]

Yea, and there, Unshudder'd unaghasted, he shall view E'en the SEVEN SPIRITS, who in the latter day Will shower hot pestilence on the sons of men, For he shall know, his heart shall understand, That kindling with intenser Deity They from the MERCY-SEAT like rosy flames, From God's celestial MERCY-SEAT will flash, And at the wells of renovating LOVE Fill their Seven Vials _with salutary wrath_.

1796.

[81-3]

For even these on wings of healing come, Yea, kindling with intenser Deity From the Celestial MERCY SEAT they speed, _And at the renovating_ &c.

1803.

[86] soft] sweet 1803.

[96-7]

Darkling with earnest eyes he traces out Th' immediate road, all else of fairest kind

1803.

[98] the burning Sun 1803.

[115] The Cherubs and the trembling Seraphim 1803.

[119-21] om. 1803.

[135-41]

O Fiends of SUPERSTITION! not that oft Your pitiless rites have floated with man's blood The skull-pil'd Temple, not for this shall wrath Thunder against you from the Holy One! But (whether ye th' unclimbing Bigot mock With secondary Gods, or if more pleas'd Ye petrify th' imbrothell'd Atheist's heart, The Atheist your worst slave) I o'er some plain Peopled with Death, and to the silent Sun Steaming with tyrant-murder'd multitudes; Or where mid groans and shrieks loud-laughing TRADE More hideous packs his bales of living anguish

1796.

[165] pious] _pious_ 1796-1829.

[176] mazy surge] tortuous-folds 1796.

[177] imbreathe] inbreathe 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[202] An] A 1834.

[222] an] a 1834.

[223] om. 1796, 1803.

[254-5]

The wafted perfumes, gazing on the woods The many tinted streams

1803.

[257] In extacy! 1803.

[266] Blessed] O _Blest_ 1796, Watchman: evil 1803: _Blessed_ 1797, 1828, 1829.

[270] by] at Watchman.

[273] bloody] gore-stained 1803.

[274] plants] rolls 1796.

[277-8]

Ye whom Oppression's ruffian gluttony Drives from the feast of life

1803.

[280-1]

Dost roam for prey--yea thy unnatural hand Liftest to deeds of blood

1796.

[281] Dost] Dar'st Watchman.

[283-4]

Nights of pollution, days of blasphemy, Who in thy orgies with loath'd wassailers

1803.

[290] O loathly-visag'd Suppliants! ye that oft 1796: O loathly-visag'd supplicants! that oft Watchman.

[291-2]

Rack'd with disease, from the unopen'd gate Of the full Lazar-house, heart-broken crawl!

1796, Watchman.

[293-6]

O ye to scepter'd Glory's gore-drench'd field Forc'd or ensnar'd, who swept by Slaughter's scythe Stern nurse of Vultures! steam in putrid heaps

1796.

O ye that steaming to the silent Noon, People with Death red-eyed Ambition's plains! O Wretched _Widow_

Watchman.

[300] Cow'rest 1796.

[302] stream] steam 1796, Watchman, 1797, 1803.

[305] And upward spring on swiftest plume of fire Watchman.

[337] Hunted by ghastlier terrors 1796, Watchman. Haunted] Hunted 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[345-8]

When on some solemn Jubilee of Saints The sapphire-blazing gates of Paradise Are thrown wide open, and thence voyage forth Detachments wild of seraph-warbled airs

1796, Watchman.

[355] beatitudes] beatitude 1796, Watchman, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[356] Seize on] Have seiz'd Watchman.

[359-61]

The SAVIOUR comes! While as to solemn strains, The THOUSAND YEARS lead up their mystic dance Old OCEAN claps his hands! the DESERT shouts! And soft gales wafted from the haunts of spring Melt the primaeval North!

_The Mighty Dead_ 1796.

[365] The odorous groves of Earth reparadis'd 1796.

[370-2]

Down the fine fibres from the sentient brain Roll subtly-surging. Pressing on his steps Lo! PRIESTLEY there, Patriot, and Saint, and Sage, Whom that my fleshly eye hath never seen A childish pang of impotent regret Hath thrill'd my heart. Him from his _native land_

1796.

Up the fine fibres thro' the sentient brain Pass in fine surges. Pressing on his steps _Lo! Priestley there_

1803.

[378-80]

Sweeping before the rapt prophetic Gaze Bright as what glories of the jasper throne Stream from the gorgeous and face-veiling plumes Of Spirits adoring! Ye blest years! must end

1796.

[380] they bend] he bends 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[387] May image in his wildly-working thought 1796: May image, how the red-eyed Fiend outstretcht 1803.

[390] feverous] feverish 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[Between 391, 392] DESTRUCTION! when the Sons of Morning shout, The Angels shout, DESTRUCTION 1803.

[393] The Mighty Spirit 1796.

[400] om. 1803.

[401] blaze] Light 1803.

[411] and novice] noviciate 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

MONODY ON THE DEATH OF CHATTERTON[125:1]

O what a wonder seems the fear of death, Seeing how gladly we all sink to sleep, Babes, Children, Youths, and Men, Night following night for threescore years and ten! But doubly strange, where life is but a breath 5 To sigh and pant with, up Want's rugged steep.

Away, Grim Phantom! Scorpion King, away! Reserve thy terrors and thy stings display For coward Wealth and Guilt in robes of State! Lo! by the grave I stand of one, for whom 10 A prodigal Nature and a niggard Doom (_That_ all bestowing, _this_ withholding all) Made each chance knell from distant spire or dome Sound like a seeking Mother's anxious call, Return, poor Child! Home, weary Truant, home! 15

Thee, Chatterton! these unblest stones protect From want, and the bleak freezings of neglect. Too long before the vexing Storm-blast driven Here hast thou found repose! beneath this sod! Thou! O vain word! _thou_ dwell'st not with the clod! 20 Amid the shining Host of the Forgiven Thou at the throne of mercy and thy God The triumph of redeeming Love dost hymn (Believe it, O my Soul!) to harps of Seraphim.

Yet oft, perforce ('tis suffering Nature's call), 25 I weep that heaven-born Genius _so_ should fall; And oft, in Fancy's saddest hour, my soul Averted shudders at the poison'd bowl. Now groans my sickening heart, as still I view Thy corse of livid hue; 30 Now Indignation checks the feeble sigh, Or flashes through the tear that glistens in mine eye!

Is this the land of song-ennobled line? Is this the land, where Genius ne'er in vain Pour'd forth his lofty strain? 35 Ah me! yet Spenser, gentlest bard divine, Beneath chill Disappointment's shade, His weary limbs in lonely anguish lay'd. And o'er her darling dead Pity hopeless hung her head, 40 While 'mid the pelting of that merciless storm,' Sunk to the cold earth Otway's famish'd form! Sublime of thought, and confident of fame, From vales where Avon[127:1] winds the Minstrel came. Light-hearted youth! aye, as he hastes along, 45 He meditates the future song, How dauntless Ælla fray'd the Dacyan foe; And while the numbers flowing strong In eddies whirl, in surges throng, Exulting in the spirits' genial throe 50 In tides of power his life-blood seems to flow.

And now his cheeks with deeper ardors flame, His eyes have glorious meanings, that declare More than the light of outward day shines there, A holier triumph and a sterner aim! 55 Wings grow within him; and he soars above Or Bard's or Minstrel's lay of war or love. Friend to the friendless, to the sufferer health, He hears the widow's prayer, the good man's praise; To scenes of bliss transmutes his fancied wealth, 60 And young and old shall now see happy days. On many a waste he bids trim gardens rise, Gives the blue sky to many a prisoner's eyes; And now in wrath he grasps the patriot steel, And her own iron rod he makes Oppression feel. 65 Sweet Flower of Hope! free Nature's genial child! That didst so fair disclose thy early bloom, Filling the wide air with a rich perfume! For thee in vain all heavenly aspects smil'd; From the hard world brief respite could they win-- 70 The frost nipp'd sharp without, the canker prey'd within! Ah! where are fled the charms of vernal Grace, And Joy's wild gleams that lighten'd o'er thy face? Youth of tumultuous soul, and haggard eye! Thy wasted form, thy hurried steps I view, 75 On thy wan forehead starts the lethal dew, And oh! the anguish of that shuddering sigh!

Such were the struggles of the gloomy hour, When Care, of wither'd brow, Prepar'd the poison's death-cold power: 80 Already to thy lips was rais'd the bowl, When near thee stood Affection meek (Her bosom bare, and wildly pale her cheek) Thy sullen gaze she bade thee roll On scenes that well might melt thy soul; 85 Thy native cot she flash'd upon thy view, Thy native cot, where still, at close of day, Peace smiling sate, and listen'd to thy lay; Thy Sister's shrieks she bade thee hear, And mark thy Mother's thrilling tear; 90 See, see her breast's convulsive throe, Her silent agony of woe! Ah! dash the poison'd chalice from thy hand!

And thou hadst dashed it, at her soft command, But that Despair and Indignation rose, 95 And told again the story of thy woes; Told the keen insult of the unfeeling heart, The dread dependence on the low-born mind; Told every pang, with which thy soul must smart, Neglect, and grinning Scorn, and Want combined! 100 Recoiling quick, thou badest the friend of pain Roll the black tide of Death through every freezing vein! O spirit blest! Whether the Eternal's throne around, Amidst the blaze of Seraphim, 105 Thou pourest forth the grateful hymn, Or soaring thro' the blest domain Enrapturest Angels with thy strain,-- Grant me, like thee, the lyre to sound, Like thee with fire divine to glow;-- 110 But ah! when rage the waves of woe, Grant me with firmer breast to meet their hate, And soar beyond the storm with upright eye elate!

Ye woods! that wave o'er Avon's rocky steep, To Fancy's ear sweet is your murmuring deep! 115 For here she loves the cypress wreath to weave; Watching with wistful eye, the saddening tints of eve. Here, far from men, amid this pathless grove, In solemn thought the Minstrel wont to rove, Like star-beam on the slow sequester'd tide 120 Lone-glittering, through the high tree branching wide. And here, in Inspiration's eager hour, When most the big soul feels the mastering power, These wilds, these caverns roaming o'er, Round which the screaming sea-gulls soar, 125 With wild unequal steps he pass'd along, Oft pouring on the winds a broken song: Anon, upon some rough rock's fearful brow Would pause abrupt--and gaze upon the waves below.

Poor Chatterton! _he_ sorrows for thy fate 130 Who would have prais'd and lov'd thee, ere too late. Poor Chatterton! farewell! of darkest hues This chaplet cast I on thy unshaped tomb; But dare no longer on the sad theme muse, Lest kindred woes persuade a kindred doom: 135 For oh! big gall-drops, shook from Folly's wing, Have blacken'd the fair promise of my spring; And the stern Fate transpierc'd with viewless dart The last pale Hope that shiver'd at my heart!

Hence, gloomy thoughts! no more my soul shall dwell 140 On joys that were! no more endure to weigh The shame and anguish of the evil day, Wisely forgetful! O'er the ocean swell Sublime of Hope I seek the cottag'd dell Where Virtue calm with careless step may stray; 145 And, dancing to the moon-light roundelay, The wizard Passions weave an holy spell!

O Chatterton! that thou wert yet alive! Sure thou would'st spread the canvass to the gale, And love with us the tinkling team to drive 150 O'er peaceful Freedom's undivided dale; And we, at sober eve, would round thee throng, Would hang, enraptur'd, on thy stately song, And greet with smiles the young-eyed Poesy All deftly mask'd as hoar Antiquity. 155

Alas, vain Phantasies! the fleeting brood Of Woe self-solac'd in her dreamy mood! Yet will I love to follow the sweet dream, Where Susquehannah pours his untamed stream; And on some hill, whose forest-frowning side 160 Waves o'er the murmurs of his calmer tide, Will raise a solemn Cenotaph to thee, Sweet Harper of time-shrouded Minstrelsy! And there, sooth'd sadly by the dirgeful wind, Muse on the sore ills I had left behind. 165

1790-1834.

FOOTNOTES:

[125:1] The 'Monody', &c., dated in eds. 1796, 1797, 1803, 'October, 1794,' was first published at Cambridge in 1794, in _Poems_, By Thomas Rowley [i. e. Chatterton] and others edited by Lancelot Sharpe (pp. xxv-xxviii). An _Introductory Note_ was prefixed:--'The Editor thinks himself happy in the permission of an ingenious friend to insert the following Monody.' The variants marked 1794 are derived from that work. The 'Monody' was not included in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817. For MS. variants _vide ante_, 'Monody', &c., Christ's Hospital Version.

Coleridge told Cottle, May 27, 1814 that lines 1-4 were written when he was 'a mere boy' (_Reminiscences_, 1847, p. 348); and, again, April 22, 1819, he told William Worship that they were written 'in his thirteenth year as a school exercise'. The Monody numbered 107 lines in 1794, 143 in 1796, 135 in 1797, 119 in 1803, 143 in 1828, 154 in 1829, and 165 lines in 1834.

[127:1] Avon, a river near Bristol, the birth-place of Chatterton.

LINENOTES:

[1-15]

When faint and sad o'er Sorrow's desart wild Slow journeys onward, poor Misfortune's child; When fades each lovely form by Fancy drest, And inly pines the self-consuming breast; (No scourge of scorpions in thy right arm dread, No helméd terrors nodding o'er thy head,) Assume, O DEATH! the cherub wings of PEACE, And bid the heartsick Wanderer's Anguish cease.

1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[Lines 1-15 of the text were first printed in 1829.]

[16] these] yon 1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[18-24]

Escap'd the sore wounds of Affliction's rod Meek at the throne of Mercy and of God, Perchance, thou raisest high th' enraptur'd hymn Amid the blaze of Seraphim!

1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[25] Yet oft ('tis Nature's bosom-startling call) 1794, 1796, 1828: Yet oft ('tis Nature's call) 1797, 1803.

[26] should] shall 1829.

[30] Thy] The 1794.

[31-32]

And now a flash of Indignation high Darts through the tear that glistens in mine eye.

1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[35] his] her 1794.

[37] Disappointment's deadly shade 1794.

[41] merciless] pitiless 1794.

[45] aye, as] om. 1797, 1803.

[46] He] And 1797, 1803.

[47-56]

How dauntless Ælla fray'd the Dacyan foes; And, as floating high in air, Glitter the sunny Visions fair, His eyes dance rapture, and his bosom glows!

1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[1794 reads 'Danish foes'; 1797, 1803 read 'See, as floating', &c. Lines 48-56 were added in 1829.]

[58-71]

Friend to the friendless, to the sick man Health, With generous Joy he views th' _ideal_ wealth; He hears the Widow's heaven-breath'd prayer of Praise; He marks the shelter'd Orphan's tearful gaze; Or where the sorrow-shrivell'd Captive lay, 5 Pours the bright Blaze of Freedom's noon-tide Ray: And now, indignant 'grasps the patriot steel' And her own iron rod he makes Oppression feel. Clad in Nature's rich array, And bright in all her tender hues, 10 Sweet Tree of Hope! thou loveliest child of Spring! How fair didst thou disclose thine early bloom, Loading the west winds with its soft perfume! And Fancy, elfin form of gorgeous wing, [And Fancy hovering round on shadowy wing, 1794.] On every blossom hung her fostering dews, 15 That, changeful, wanton'd to the orient Day! But soon upon thy poor unshelter'd Head [Ah! soon, &c. 1794.] Did Penury her sickly mildew shed: And soon the scathing Lightning bade thee stand In frowning horror o'er the blighted Land

1794, 1796, 1828.

[Lines 1-8 of the preceding variant were omitted in 1797. Line 9 reads 'Yes! Clad,' &c., and line 12 reads 'Most fair,' &c. The entire variant, 'Friend . . . Land,' was omitted in 1803, but reappears in 1828. The quotation marks 'grasps the patriot steel' which appear in 1796, but not in 1794, were inserted in 1828, but omitted in 1829, 1834. Lines 1-6 were included in 'Lines written at the King's Arms, Ross', as first published in the Cambridge Intelligencer, Sept. 27, 1794, and in the editions of 1797, 1828, 1829, and 1834.]

[72] Ah! where] Whither 1794, 1797.

[73] that lighten'd] light-flashing 1797, 1803.

[76] wan] cold 1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828. lethal] anguish'd 1794, 1796, 1797, 1828.

[77] And dreadful was that bosom-rending sigh 1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[78] the gloomy] that gloomy 1803.

[80] Prepar'd the poison's power 1797, 1803.

[90] And mark thy mother's tear 1797, 1803.

[98] low-born] low-bred 1794.

[99] with] at 1794. must] might 1794.

[102] black] dark 1794.

[103-13] These lines, which form the conclusion (ll. 80-90) of the Christ's Hospital Version, were printed for the first time in 1834, with the following variants: l. 104 the Eternal's] th' Eternal; l. 105 Seraphim] Cherubim; l. 112 to meet] t'oppose; l. 113 storm] storms.

[120] slow] rude 1794.

[121] Lone glittering thro' the Forest's murksome pride 1794.

[123] mastering] mad'ning 1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[129] Here the Monody ends 1794.

[130-65] First printed in 1796.

[133] unshaped] shapeless 1803.

[136-39] om. 1803.

[147] an] a 1834.

[153] Would hang] Hanging 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

THE DESTINY OF NATIONS[131:1]

A VISION

Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song, Ere we the deep preluding strain have poured To the Great Father, only Rightful King, Eternal Father! King Omnipotent! To the Will Absolute, the One, the Good! 5 The I AM, the Word, the Life, the Living God!

Such symphony requires best instrument. Seize, then, my soul! from Freedom's trophied dome The Harp which hangeth high between the Shields Of Brutus and Leonidas! With that 10 Strong music, that soliciting spell, force back Man's free and stirring spirit that lies entranced. For what is Freedom, but the unfettered use Of all the powers which God for use had given? But chiefly this, him First, him Last to view 15 Through meaner powers and secondary things Effulgent, as through clouds that veil his blaze. For all that meets the bodily sense I deem Symbolical, one mighty alphabet For infant minds; and we in this low world 20 Placed with our backs to bright Reality, That we may learn with young unwounded ken The substance from its shadow. Infinite Love, Whose latence is the plenitude of All, Thou with retracted beams, and self-eclipse 25 Veiling, revealest thine eternal Sun.

But some there are who deem themselves most free When they within this gross and visible sphere Chain down the wingéd thought, scoffing ascent, Proud in their meanness: and themselves they cheat 30 With noisy emptiness of learned phrase, Their subtle fluids, impacts, essences, Self-working tools, uncaused effects, and all Those blind Omniscients, those Almighty Slaves, Untenanting creation of its God. 35

But Properties are God: the naked mass (If mass there be, fantastic guess or ghost) Acts only by its inactivity. Here we pause humbly. Others boldlier think That as one body seems the aggregate 40 Of atoms numberless, each organized; So by a strange and dim similitude Infinite myriads of self-conscious minds Are one all-conscious Spirit, which informs With absolute ubiquity of thought 45 (His one eternal self-affirming act!) All his involvéd Monads, that yet seem With various province and apt agency Each to pursue its own self-centering end. Some nurse the infant diamond in the mine; 50 Some roll the genial juices through the oak; Some drive the mutinous clouds to clash in air, And rushing on the storm with whirlwind speed, Yoke the red lightnings to their volleying car. Thus these pursue their never-varying course, 55 No eddy in their stream. Others, more wild, With complex interests weaving human fates, Duteous or proud, alike obedient all, Evolve the process of eternal good.

And what if some rebellious, o'er dark realms 60 Arrogate power? yet these train up to God, And on the rude eye, unconfirmed for day, Flash meteor-lights better than total gloom. As ere from Lieule-Oaive's vapoury head The Laplander beholds the far-off Sun 65 Dart his slant beam on unobeying snows, While yet the stern and solitary Night Brooks no alternate sway, the Boreal Morn With mimic lustre substitutes its gleam. Guiding his course or by Niemi lake 70 Or Balda Zhiok,[133:1] or the mossy stone Of Solfar-kapper,[133:2] while the snowy blast Drifts arrowy by, or eddies round his sledge, Making the poor babe at its mother's back[134:1] Scream in its scanty cradle: he the while 75 Wins gentle solace as with upward eye He marks the streamy banners of the North, Thinking himself those happy spirits shall join Who there in floating robes of rosy light Dance sportively. For Fancy is the power 80 That first unsensualises the dark mind, Giving it new delights; and bids it swell With wild activity; and peopling air, By obscure fears of Beings invisible, Emancipates it from the grosser thrall 85 Of the present impulse, teaching Self-control, Till Superstition with unconscious hand Seat Reason on her throne. Wherefore not vain, Nor yet without permitted power impressed, I deem those legends terrible, with which 90 The polar ancient thrills his uncouth throng: Whether of pitying Spirits that make their moan O'er slaughter'd infants, or that Giant Bird Vuokho, of whose rushing wings the noise Is Tempest, when the unutterable Shape 95 Speeds from the mother of Death, and utters once[134:2] That shriek, which never murderer heard, and lived.

Or if the Greenland Wizard in strange trance Pierces the untravelled realms of Ocean's bed Over the abysm, even to that uttermost cave 100 By mis-shaped prodigies beleaguered, such As Earth ne'er bred, nor Air, nor the upper Sea: Where dwells the Fury Form, whose unheard name With eager eye, pale cheek, suspended breath, And lips half-opening with the dread of sound, 105 Unsleeping Silence guards, worn out with fear Lest haply 'scaping on some treacherous blast The fateful word let slip the Elements And frenzy Nature. Yet the wizard her, Arm'd with Torngarsuck's power, the Spirit of Good,[135:1] 110 Forces to unchain the foodful progeny Of the Ocean stream;--thence thro' the realm of Souls, Where live the Innocent, as far from cares As from the storms and overwhelming waves That tumble on the surface of the Deep, 115 Returns with far-heard pant, hotly pursued By the fierce Warders of the Sea, once more, Ere by the frost foreclosed, to repossess His fleshly mansion, that had staid the while In the dark tent within a cow'ring group 120 Untenanted.--Wild phantasies! yet wise, On the victorious goodness of high God Teaching reliance, and medicinal hope, Till from Bethabra northward, heavenly Truth With gradual steps, winning her difficult way, 125 Transfer their rude Faith perfected and pure.

If there be Beings of higher class than Man, I deem no nobler province they possess, Than by disposal of apt circumstance To rear up kingdoms: and the deeds they prompt, 130 Distinguishing from mortal agency, They choose their human ministers from such states As still the Epic song half fears to name, Repelled from all the minstrelsies that strike The palace-roof and soothe the monarch's pride. 135 And such, perhaps, the Spirit, who (if words Witnessed by answering deeds may claim our faith) Held commune with that warrior-maid of France Who scourged the Invader. From her infant days, With Wisdom, mother of retired thoughts, 140 Her soul had dwelt; and she was quick to mark The good and evil thing, in human lore Undisciplined. For lowly was her birth, And Heaven had doomed her early years to toil That pure from Tyranny's least deed, herself 145 Unfeared by Fellow-natures, she might wait On the poor labouring man with kindly looks, And minister refreshment to the tired Way-wanderer, when along the rough-hewn bench The sweltry man had stretched him, and aloft 150 Vacantly watched the rudely-pictured board Which on the Mulberry-bough with welcome creak Swung to the pleasant breeze. Here, too, the Maid Learnt more than Schools could teach: Man's shifting mind, His vices and his sorrows! And full oft 155 At tales of cruel wrong and strange distress Had wept and shivered. To the tottering Eld Still as a daughter would she run: she placed His cold limbs at the sunny door, and loved To hear him story, in his garrulous sort, 160 Of his eventful years, all come and gone.

So twenty seasons past. The Virgin's form, Active and tall, nor Sloth nor Luxury Had shrunk or paled. Her front sublime and broad, Her flexile eye-brows wildly haired and low, 165 And her full eye, now bright, now unillumed, Spake more than Woman's thought; and all her face Was moulded to such features as declared That Pity there had oft and strongly worked, And sometimes Indignation. Bold her mien, 170 And like an haughty huntress of the woods She moved: yet sure she was a gentle maid! And in each motion her most innocent soul Beamed forth so brightly, that who saw would say Guilt was a thing impossible in her! 175 Nor idly would have said--for she had lived In this bad World, as in a place of Tombs, And touched not the pollutions of the Dead.

'Twas the cold season when the Rustic's eye From the drear desolate whiteness of his fields 180 Rolls for relief to watch the skiey tints And clouds slow-varying their huge imagery; When now, as she was wont, the healthful Maid Had left her pallet ere one beam of day Slanted the fog-smoke. She went forth alone 185 Urged by the indwelling angel-guide, that oft, With dim inexplicable sympathies Disquieting the heart, shapes out Man's course To the predoomed adventure. Now the ascent She climbs of that steep upland, on whose top 190 The Pilgrim-man, who long since eve had watched The alien shine of unconcerning stars, Shouts to himself, there first the Abbey-lights Seen in Neufchâtel's vale; now slopes adown The winding sheep-track vale-ward: when, behold 195 In the first entrance of the level road An unattended team! The foremost horse Lay with stretched limbs; the others, yet alive But stiff and cold, stood motionless, their manes Hoar with the frozen night-dews. Dismally 200 The dark-red dawn now glimmered; but its gleams Disclosed no face of man. The maiden paused, Then hailed who might be near. No voice replied. From the thwart wain at length there reached her ear A sound so feeble that it almost seemed 205 Distant: and feebly, with slow effort pushed, A miserable man crept forth: his limbs The silent frost had eat, scathing like fire. Faint on the shafts he rested. She, meantime, Saw crowded close beneath the coverture 210 A mother and her children--lifeless all, Yet lovely! not a lineament was marred-- Death had put on so slumber-like a form! It was a piteous sight; and one, a babe. The crisp milk frozen on its innocent lips, 215 Lay on the woman's arm, its little hand Stretched on her bosom.

Mutely questioning, The Maid gazed wildly at the living wretch. He, his head feebly turning, on the group Looked with a vacant stare, and his eye spoke 220 The drowsy calm that steals on worn-out anguish. She shuddered; but, each vainer pang subdued, Quick disentangling from the foremost horse The rustic bands, with difficulty and toil The stiff cramped team forced homeward. There arrived, 225 Anxiously tends him she with healing herbs, And weeps and prays--but the numb power of Death Spreads o'er his limbs; and ere the noon-tide hour, The hovering spirits of his Wife and Babes Hail him immortal! Yet amid his pangs, 230 With interruptions long from ghastly throes, His voice had faltered out this simple tale.

The Village, where he dwelt an husbandman, By sudden inroad had been seized and fired Late on the yester-evening. With his wife 235 And little ones he hurried his escape. They saw the neighbouring hamlets flame, they heard Uproar and shrieks! and terror-struck drove on Through unfrequented roads, a weary way! But saw nor house nor cottage. All had quenched 240 Their evening hearth-fire: for the alarm had spread. The air clipt keen, the night was fanged with frost, And they provisionless! The weeping wife Ill hushed her children's moans; and still they moaned, Till Fright and Cold and Hunger drank their life. 245 They closed their eyes in sleep, nor knew 'twas Death. He only, lashing his o'er-wearied team, Gained a sad respite, till beside the base Of the high hill his foremost horse dropped dead. Then hopeless, strengthless, sick for lack of food, 250 He crept beneath the coverture, entranced, Till wakened by the maiden.--Such his tale.

Ah! suffering to the height of what was suffered, Stung with too keen a sympathy, the Maid Brooded with moving lips, mute, startful, dark! 255 And now her flushed tumultuous features shot Such strange vivacity, as fires the eye Of Misery fancy-crazed! and now once more Naked, and void, and fixed, and all within The unquiet silence of confuséd thought 260 And shapeless feelings. For a mighty hand Was strong upon her, till in the heat of soul To the high hill-top tracing back her steps, Aside the beacon, up whose smouldered stones The tender ivy-trails crept thinly, there, 265 Unconscious of the driving element, Yea, swallowed up in the ominous dream, she sate Ghastly as broad-eyed Slumber! a dim anguish Breathed from her look! and still with pant and sob, Inly she toiled to flee, and still subdued, 270 Felt an inevitable Presence near.

Thus as she toiled in troublous ecstasy, A horror of great darkness wrapt her round, And a voice uttered forth unearthly tones, Calming her soul,--'O Thou of the Most High 275 Chosen, whom all the perfected in Heaven Behold expectant--'

[The following fragments were intended to form part of the poem when finished.]

[140:1]'Maid beloved of Heaven! (To her the tutelary Power exclaimed) Of Chaos the adventurous progeny 280 Thou seest; foul missionaries of foul sire. Fierce to regain the losses of that hour When Love rose glittering, and his gorgeous wings Over the abyss fluttered with such glad noise, As what time after long and pestful calms, 285 With slimy shapes and miscreated life Poisoning the vast Pacific, the fresh breeze Wakens the merchant-sail uprising. Night An heavy unimaginable moan Sent forth, when she the Protoplast beheld 290 Stand beauteous on Confusion's charméd wave. Moaning she fled, and entered the Profound That leads with downward windings to the Cave Of Darkness palpable, Desert of Death Sunk deep beneath Gehenna's massy roots. 295 There many a dateless age the Beldame lurked And trembled; till engendered by fierce Hate, Fierce Hate and gloomy Hope, a Dream arose, Shaped like a black cloud marked with streaks of fire. It roused the Hell-Hag: she the dew-damp wiped 300 From off her brow, and through the uncouth maze Retraced her steps; but ere she reached the mouth Of that drear labyrinth, shuddering she paused, Nor dared re-enter the diminished Gulph. As through the dark vaults of some mouldered Tower 305 (Which, fearful to approach, the evening hind Circles at distance in his homeward way) The winds breathe hollow, deemed the plaining groan Of prisoned spirits; with such fearful voice Night murmured, and the sound through Chaos went. 310 Leaped at her call her hideous-fronted brood! A dark behest they heard, and rushed on earth; Since that sad hour, in Camps and Courts adored, Rebels from God, and Tyrants o'er Mankind!'

* * * * *

From his obscure haunt 315 Shrieked Fear, of Cruelty the ghastly Dam, Feverous yet freezing, eager-paced yet slow, As she that creeps from forth her swampy reeds. Ague, the biform Hag! when early Spring Beams on the marsh-bred vapours. 320

'Even so (the exulting Maiden said) The sainted Heralds of Good Tidings fell, And thus they witnessed God! But now the clouds Treading, and storms beneath their feet, they soar Higher, and higher soar, and soaring sing 325 Loud songs of triumph! O ye Spirits of God, Hover around my mortal agonies!' She spake, and instantly faint melody Melts on her ear, soothing and sad, and slow, Such measures, as at calmest midnight heard 330 By agéd Hermit in his holy dream, Foretell and solace death; and now they rise Louder, as when with harp and mingled voice The white-robed multitude of slaughtered saints At Heaven's wide-open'd portals gratulant 335 Receive some martyred patriot. The harmony[142:1] Entranced the Maid, till each suspended sense Brief slumber seized, and confused ecstasy.

At length awakening slow, she gazed around: And through a mist, the relict of that trance 340 Still thinning as she gazed, an Isle appeared, Its high, o'er-hanging, white, broad-breasted cliffs, Glassed on the subject ocean. A vast plain Stretched opposite, where ever and anon The plough-man following sad his meagre team 345 Turned up fresh sculls unstartled, and the bones Of fierce hate-breathing combatants, who there All mingled lay beneath the common earth, Death's gloomy reconcilement! O'er the fields Stept a fair Form, repairing all she might, 350 Her temples olive-wreathed; and where she trod, Fresh flowerets rose, and many a foodful herb. But wan her cheek, her footsteps insecure, And anxious pleasure beamed in her faint eye, As she had newly left a couch of pain, 355 Pale Convalescent! (Yet some time to rule With power exclusive o'er the willing world, That blessed prophetic mandate then fulfilled-- Peace be on Earth!) An happy while, but brief, She seemed to wander with assiduous feet, 360 And healed the recent harm of chill and blight, And nursed each plant that fair and virtuous grew.

But soon a deep precursive sound moaned hollow: Black rose the clouds, and now, (as in a dream) Their reddening shapes, transformed to Warrior-hosts, 365 Coursed o'er the sky, and battled in mid-air. Nor did not the large blood-drops fall from Heaven Portentous! while aloft were seen to float, Like hideous features looming on the mist, Wan stains of ominous light! Resigned, yet sad, 370 The fair Form bowed her olive-crownéd brow, Then o'er the plain with oft-reverted eye Fled till a place of Tombs she reached, and there Within a ruined Sepulchre obscure Found hiding-place.

The delegated Maid 375 Gazed through her tears, then in sad tones exclaimed;-- Thou mild-eyed Form! wherefore, ah! wherefore fled? The Power of Justice like a name all light, Shone from thy brow; but all they, who unblamed Dwelt in thy dwellings, call thee Happiness. 380 Ah! why, uninjured and unprofited, Should multitudes against their brethren rush? Why sow they guilt, still reaping misery? Lenient of care, thy songs, O Peace! are sweet,[144:1] As after showers the perfumed gale of eve, 385 That flings the cool drops on a feverous cheek; And gay thy grassy altar piled with fruits. But boasts the shrine of Dæmon War one charm,[144:2] Save that with many an orgie strange and foul,[144:3] Dancing around with interwoven arms, 390 The Maniac Suicide and Giant Murder Exult in their fierce union! I am sad, And know not why the simple peasants crowd Beneath the Chieftains' standard!' Thus the Maid.

To her the tutelary Spirit said: 395 'When Luxury and Lust's exhausted stores No more can rouse the appetites of kings; When the low flattery of their reptile lords Falls flat and heavy on the accustomed ear; When eunuchs sing, and fools buffoonery make, 400 And dancers writhe their harlot-limbs in vain; Then War and all its dread vicissitudes Pleasingly agitate their stagnant hearts; Its hopes, its fears, its victories, its defeats, Insipid Royalty's keen condiment! 405 _Therefore_, uninjured and unprofited (Victims at once and executioners), The congregated Husbandmen lay waste The vineyard and the harvest. As along The Bothnic coast, or southward of the Line, 410 Though hushed the winds and cloudless the high noon, Yet if Leviathan, weary of ease, In sports unwieldy toss his island-bulk, Ocean behind him billows, and before A storm of waves breaks foamy on the strand. 415 And hence, for times and seasons bloody and dark, Short Peace shall skin the wounds of causeless War, And War, his strainéd sinews knit anew, Still violate the unfinished works of Peace. But yonder look! for more demands thy view!' 420 He said: and straightway from the opposite Isle A vapour sailed, as when a cloud, exhaled From Egypt's fields that steam hot pestilence, Travels the sky for many a trackless league, Till o'er some death-doomed land, distant in vain, 425 It broods incumbent. Forthwith from the plain, Facing the Isle, a brighter cloud arose, And steered its course which way the vapour went.

The Maiden paused, musing what this might mean. But long time passed not, ere that brighter cloud 430 Returned more bright; along the plain it swept; And soon from forth its bursting sides emerged A dazzling form, broad-bosomed, bold of eye, And wild her hair, save where with laurels bound. Not more majestic stood the healing God,[146:1] 435 When from his bow the arrow sped that slew Huge Python. Shriek'd Ambition's giant throng, And with them hissed the locust-fiends that crawled And glittered in Corruption's slimy track. Great was their wrath, for short they knew their reign; 440 And such commotion made they, and uproar, As when the mad Tornado bellows through The guilty islands of the western main, What time departing from their native shores,[146:2] Eboe, or Koromantyn's plain of palms, 445 The infuriate spirits of the murdered make Fierce merriment, and vengeance ask of Heaven. Warmed with new influence, the unwholesome plain Sent up its foulest fogs to meet the morn: The Sun that rose on Freedom, rose in Blood! 450

'Maiden beloved, and Delegate of Heaven! (To her the tutelary Spirit said) Soon shall the Morning struggle into Day, The stormy Morning into cloudless Noon. Much hast thou seen, nor all canst understand-- 455 But this be thy best omen--Save thy Country!' Thus saying, from the answering Maid he passed, And with him disappeared the heavenly Vision.

'Glory to Thee, Father of Earth and Heaven! All-conscious Presence of the Universe! 460 Nature's vast ever-acting Energy![147:1] In will, in deed, Impulse of All to All! Whether thy Love with unrefracted ray Beam on the Prophet's purgéd eye, or if Diseasing realms the Enthusiast, wild of thought, 465 Scatter new frenzies on the infected throng, Thou both inspiring and predooming both, Fit instruments and best, of perfect end: Glory to Thee, Father of Earth and Heaven!'

* * * * *

And first a landscape rose 470 More wild and waste and desolate than where The white bear, drifting on a field of ice, Howls to her sundered cubs with piteous rage And savage agony.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[131:1] First published, in its entirety, in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834. Two hundred and fifty-five lines were included in Book II of _Joan of Arc, An Epic Poem_, by Robert Southey, Bristol and London, 1796, 4{o}. The greater part of the remaining 212 lines were written in 1796, and formed part of an unpublished poem entitled _The Progress of Liberty_ or _The Vision of the Maid of Orleans_, or _Visions of the Maid of Orleans_, or _Visions of the Maid of Arc_, or _The Vision of the Patriot Maiden_. (See letter to Poole, Dec. 13, and letter to J. Thelwall, Dec. 17, 1796, _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 192, 206. See, too, Cottle's _Early Recollections_, 1837, i. 230; and, for Lamb's criticism of a first draft of the poem, his letters to Coleridge, dated Jan. 5 and Feb. 12, 1797.) For a reprint of _Joan of Arc_, Book the Second (Preternatural Agency), see Cottle's _Early Recollections_, 1837, ii. 241-62.

The texts of 1828, 1829 (almost but not quite identical) vary slightly from that of the _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, and, again, the text of 1834 varies from that of 1828 and 1829. These variants (on a proof-sheet of the edition of 1828) are in Coleridge's own handwriting, and afford convincing evidence that he did take some part in the preparation of the text of his poems for the last edition issued in his own lifetime.

[133:1] Balda-Zhiok, i. e. mons altitudinis, the highest mountain in Lapland.

[133:2] Solfar-kapper: capitium Solfar, hic locus omnium, quotquot veterum Lapponum superstitio sacrificiisque religiosoque cultui dedicavit, celebratissimus erat, in parte sinus australis situs, semimilliaris spatio a mari distans. Ipse locus, quem curiositatis gratia aliquando me invisisse memini, duabus praealtis lapidibus, sibi invicem oppositis, quorum alter musco circumdatus erat, constabat.

[134:1] The Lapland women carry their infants at their backs in a piece of excavated wood which serves them for a cradle: opposite to the infant's mouth there is a hole for it to breathe through.

Mirandum prorsus est et vix credibile nisi cui vidisse contigit. Lappones hyeme iter facientes per vastos montes, perque horrida et invia tesqua, eo praesertim tempore quo omnia perpetuis nivibus obtecta sunt et nives ventis agitantur et in gyros aguntur, viam ad destinata loca absque errore invenire posse, lactantem autem infantem, si quem habeat, ipsa mater in dorso baiulat, in excavato ligno (Gieed'k ipsi vocant) quod pro cunis utuntur, in hoc infans pannis et pellibus convolutus colligatus iacet.--LEEMIUS DE LAPPONIBUS.

[134:2] Jaibme Aibmo.

[135:1] They call the Good Spirit, Torngarsuck. The other great but malignant spirit a nameless female; she dwells under the sea in a great house where she can detain in captivity all the animals of the ocean by her magic power. When a dearth befalls the Greenlanders, an Angekok or magician must undertake a journey thither: he passes through the kingdom of souls, over an horrible abyss into the palace of this phantom, and by his enchantments causes the captive creatures to ascend directly to the surface of the ocean. See Crantz, _History of Greenland_, vol. i. 206.

[140:1] These are very fine Lines, tho' I say it, that should not: but, hang me, if I know or ever did know the meaning of them, tho' my own composition. _MS. Note by S. T. C._

[142:1] Rev. vi. 9, 11: And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God and for the Testimony which they held. And white robes were given unto every one of them; and it was said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little Season, until their fellow-servants also, and their brethren that should be killed, as they were, should be fulfilled.

[144:1] A grievous defect here in the rhyme recalling assonance of Pe͞ace, swe͞et ēve, che͞ek. Better thus:--

Sweet are thy Songs, O Peace! lenient of care. _S. T. C._, _1828_.

[144:2] 388-93 Southeyan. To be omitted. _S. T. C._, _1828_.

[144:3] A vile line [_foul_ is underlined]. _S. T. C._, _1828_.

[146:1] The Apollo Belvedere.

[146:2] The Slaves in the West-India Islands consider Death as a passport to their native country. The Sentiment is thus expressed in the Introduction to a Greek Prize Ode on the Slave-Trade, of which the Ideas are better than the Language or Metre, in which they are conveyed:--

Ὠ σκότου πύλας, Θάνατε, προλείπων Ἐς γένος σπεύδοις ὑποζευχθὲν Ἄτᾳ[146:A]; Οὐ ξενισθήσῃ γενύων σπαραγμοῖς Οὐδ' ὀλολυγμῷ,

Ἀλλὰ καὶ κύκλοισι χοροιτύποισι Κἀσμάτων χαρᾷ; φοβερὸς μὲν ἐσσί, Ἀλλ' ὁμῶς Ἐλευθερίᾳ συνοικεῖς, Στυγνὲ Τύραννε!

Δασκίοις ἐπὶ πτερύγεσσι σῇσι Ἆ! θαλάσσιον καθορῶντες οἶδμα Αἰθεροπλάγκτοις ὑπὸ πόσσ' ἀνεῖσι Πατρίδ' ἐπ' αἶαν,

Ἔνθα μὰν Ἐρασταὶ Ἐρωμένῃσιν Ἀμφὶ πηγῇσιν κιτρίνων ὑπ' ἀλσῶν, Ὅσσ' ὑπὸ βροτοῖς ἔπαθον βροτοί, τὰ Δεινὰ λέγοντι.

LITERAL TRANSLATION.

Leaving the gates of Darkness, O Death! hasten thou to a Race yoked to Misery! Thou wilt not be received with lacerations of Cheeks, nor with funereal ululation, but with circling Dances and the joy of Songs. Thou art terrible indeed, yet thou dwellest with LIBERTY, stern GENIUS! Borne on thy dark pinions over the swelling of Ocean they return to their native country. There by the side of fountains beneath Citron groves, the Lovers tell to their Beloved, what horrors, being Men, they had endured from Men.

[146:A] ο before ζ ought to have been made long; δοῑς ὑπōζ is an Amphimacer not (as the metre here requires) a Dactyl. _S. T. C._

[147:1] Tho' these Lines may bear a sane sense, yet they are easily, and more naturally interpreted with a very false and dangerous one. But I was at that time one of the _Mongrels_, the Josephidites [Josephides = the Son of Joseph], a proper name of distinction from those who believe _in_, as well as believe Christ the only begotten Son of the Living God before all Time. _MS. Note by S. T. C._

LINENOTES:

[1] No more of Usurpation's doom'd defeat 4{o}.

[5-6]

Beneath whose shadowy banners wide unfurl'd Justice leads forth her tyrant-quelling hosts.

4{o}, Sibylline Leaves.

[5] THE WILL, THE WORD, THE BREATH, THE LIVING GOD 1828, 1829.

[6] _Added in_ 1834.

[9-12]

The Harp which hanging high between the shields Of Brutus and Leonidas oft gives A fitful music to the breezy touch Of patriot spirits that demand their fame.

4{o}.

[12] Man's] Earth's Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829.

[15]

But chiefly this with holiest habitude Of constant Faith, him First, him Last to view

4{o}.

[23-6]

Things from their shadows. Know thyself my Soul! Confirm'd thy strength, thy pinions fledged for flight Bursting this shell and leaving next thy nest Soon upward soaring shalt thou fix intense Thine eaglet eye on Heaven's Eternal Sun!

4{o}.

The substance from its shadow--Earth's broad shade Revealing by Eclipse, the Eternal Sun.

Sibylline Leaves.

[The text of lines 23-6 is given in the Errata p. [lxii].]

[37] om. 4{o}.

[40] seems] is 4{o}.

[44] Form one all-conscious Spirit, who directs 4{o}.

[46] om. 4{o}.

[47] involvéd] component 4{o}.

[54] lightnings] lightning 4{o}.

[70] Niemi] Niemi's 4{o}.

[90] deem] deemed 1829.

[96-7]

Speeds from the mother of Death his destin'd way To snatch the murderer from his secret cell.

4{o}.

[Between lines 99-100]

(Where live the innocent as far from cares As from the storms and overwhelming waves Dark tumbling on the surface of the deep).

4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829.

These lines form part of an addition (lines 111-21) which dates from 1834.

[103] Where] There 4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829.

[105] om. 4{o}.

[107] 'scaping] escaping 4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829.

[108] fateful word] fatal sound 4{o}.

[112-21] thence thro' . . . Untenanted are not included in 4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1828, or 1829. For lines 113-15 vide _ante_, variant of line 99 of the text.

[112] Ocean] Ocean's 1828, 1829.

[130 foll.]

To rear some realm with patient discipline, Aye bidding PAIN, dark ERROR'S uncouth child, Blameless Parenticide! his snakey scourge 125 Lift fierce against his Mother! Thus they make Of transient Evil ever-during Good Themselves probationary, and denied Confess'd to view by preternatural deed To o'erwhelm the will, save on some fated day 130 Headstrong, or with petition'd might from God. And such perhaps the guardian Power whose ken Still dwelt on France. He from the invisible World Burst on the MAIDEN'S eye, impregning Air With Voices and strange Shapes, illusions apt 135 Shadowy of Truth. [And first a landscape rose More wild and waste and desolate, than where The white bear drifting on a field of ice Howls to her sunder'd cubs with piteous rage And savage agony.] Mid the drear scene 140 A craggy mass uprear'd its misty brow, Untouch'd by breath of Spring, unwont to know Red Summer's influence, or the chearful face Of Autumn; yet its fragments many and huge Astounded ocean with the dreadful dance 145 Of whirlpools numberless, absorbing oft The blameless fisher at his perilous toil.

4{o}.

_Note_--Lines 148-223 of the Second Book of _Joan of Arc_ are by Southey. Coleridge's unpublished poem of 1796 (_The Visions of the Maid of Orleans_) begins at line 127 of the text, ending at line 277. The remaining portion of the _Destiny of Nations_ is taken from lines contributed to the Second Book. Lines 136-40 of variant 130 foll. form the concluding fragment of the _Destiny of Nations_. Lines 141-3 of the variant are by Southey. (See his Preface to _Joan of Arc_, 1796, p. vi.) The remaining lines of the variant were never reprinted.

[132] human] mortal Sibylline Leaves (correction made in Errata, p. [xii]).

[171] an] a 1834.

[201] now] new Sibylline Leaves, 1828.

[289] An] A 1834.

[300] dew-damp] dew-damps 4{o}.

[314] Tyrants] Monarchs 4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829.

Between lines 314 and 315 of the text, the text of the original version (after line 259 of _Joan of Arc_, Book II) continues:--

'These are the fiends that o'er thy native land 260 Spread Guilt and Horror. Maid belov'd of Heaven! Dar'st thou inspir'd by the holy flame of Love Encounter such fell shapes, nor fear to meet Their wrath, their wiles? O Maiden dar'st thou die?' 'Father of Heaven: I will not fear.' she said, 265 'My arm is weak, but mighty is thy sword.'

She spake and as she spake the trump was heard That echoed ominous o'er the streets of Rome, When the first Caesar totter'd o'er the grave By Freedom delv'd: the Trump, whose chilling blast 270 On Marathon and on Plataea's plain Scatter'd the Persian.--From his obscure haunt, &c.

[Lines 267-72, She spake . . . the Persian, are claimed by Southey.]

[316] Shriek'd Fear the ghastliest of Ambition's throng 4{o}.

[317] Feverous] Fev'rish 4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829.

Between lines 320 and 321 of the text, the text of _Joan of Arc_, Book II, continues:--

'Lo she goes! To Orleans lo! she goes--the mission'd Maid! The Victor Hosts wither beneath her arm! And what are Crecy, Poictiers, Azincour 280 But noisy echoes in the ear of Pride?' Ambition heard and startled on his throne; But strait a smile of savage joy illum'd His grisly features, like the sheety Burst Of Lightning o'er the awaken'd midnight clouds 285 Wide flash'd. [For lo! a flaming pile reflects Its red light fierce and gloomy on the face Of SUPERSTITION and her goblin Son Loud-laughing CRUELTY, who to the stake A female fix'd, of bold and beauteous mien, 290 Her snow-white Limbs by iron fetters bruis'd Her breast expos'd.] JOAN saw, she saw and knew Her perfect image. Nature thro' her frame One pang shot shiv'ring; but, that frail pang soon Dismiss'd, 'Even so, &c.

4{o}.

[The passage included in brackets was claimed by Southey.]

[330] calmest] calmy 4{o}.

[339-40]

But lo! no more was seen the ice-pil'd mount And meteor-lighted dome.--An Isle appear'd

4{o}.

[342] white] rough 4{o}.

[361] and] or 4{o}.

[366-7]

The Sea meantime his Billows darkest roll'd, And each stain'd wave dash'd on the shore a corse.

4{o}.

[369-72]

His hideous features blended with the mist, The long black locks of SLAUGHTER. PEACE beheld And o'er the plain

4{o}.

[369] Like hideous features blended with the clouds Sibylline Leaves, 1817. (_Errata_: for '_blended_', &c., read '_looming on the mist_'. S. L., p. [xii].)

[378-9]

The name of JUSTICE written on thy brow Resplendent shone

4{o}, S. L. 1817.

(The reading of the text is given as an emendation in the _Errata_, Sibylline Leaves, 1817, p. [xii].)

[386] That plays around the sick man's throbbing temples 4{o}.

[394] Chieftains'] Chieftain's 4{o}.

[395] said] replied 4{o}, S. L., 1828.

Between lines 421 and 423 of the text, the text of _Joan of Arc_, Book II, inserts:--

A Vapor rose, pierc'd by the MAIDEN'S eye. Guiding its course OPPRESSION sate within,[145:A] With terror pale and rage, yet laugh'd at times Musing on Vengeance: trembled in his hand A Sceptre fiercely-grasp'd. O'er Ocean westward The Vapor sail'd

4{o}.

[145:A] These images imageless, these _Small-Capitals_ constituting themselves Personifications, I despised even at that time; but was forced to introduce them, to preserve the connection with the machinery of the Poem, previously adopted by Southey. _S. T. C._

After 429 of the text, the text of _Joan of Arc_ inserts:--

ENVY sate guiding--ENVY, hag-abhorr'd! Like JUSTICE mask'd, and doom'd to aid the fight 410 Victorious 'gainst oppression. Hush'd awhile

4{o}.

[These lines were assigned by Coleridge to Southey.]

[434] with] by 4{o}.

[437-8]

Shriek'd AMBITION'S ghastly throng And with them those the locust Fiends that crawl'd[146:A]

4{o}.

[146:A] --if Locusts how could they _shriek_? I must have caught the contagion of _unthinkingness_. _S. T. C._ _4{o}_.

[458] heavenly] goodly 4{o}.

[463] Love] Law 4{o}.

For lines 470-74 vide _ante_ var. of lines 130 foll.

VER PERPETUUM[148:1]

FRAGMENT

From an unpublished poem.

The early Year's fast-flying vapours stray In shadowing trains across the orb of day: And we, poor Insects of a few short hours, Deem it a world of Gloom. Were it not better hope a nobler doom, 5 Proud to believe that with more active powers On rapid many-coloured wing We thro' one bright perpetual Spring Shall hover round the fruits and flowers, Screen'd by those clouds and cherish'd by those showers! 10

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[148:1] First published without title ('_From an unpublished poem_') in _The Watchman_, No. iv, March 25, 1796, and reprinted in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 44, with an extract from the Essay in the _Watchman_ in which it was included:--'In my calmer moments I have the firmest faith that all things work together for good. But alas! it seems a long and dark process.' First collected with extract only in Appendix to 1863. First entitled 'Fragment from an Unpublished Poem' in 1893, and 'Ver Perpetuum' in 1907.

ON OBSERVING A BLOSSOM ON THE FIRST OF FEBRUARY 1796[148:2]

Sweet flower! that peeping from thy russet stem Unfoldest timidly, (for in strange sort This dark, frieze-coated, hoarse, teeth-chattering month Hath borrow'd Zephyr's voice, and gazed upon thee With blue voluptuous eye) alas, poor Flower! 5 These are but flatteries of the faithless year. Perchance, escaped its unknown polar cave, Even now the keen North-East is on its way. Flower that must perish! shall I liken thee To some sweet girl of too too rapid growth 10 Nipp'd by consumption mid untimely charms? Or to Bristowa's bard,[149:1] the wondrous boy! An amaranth, which earth scarce seem'd to own, Till disappointment came, and pelting wrong Beat it to earth? or with indignant grief 15 Shall I compare thee to poor Poland's hope, Bright flower of hope killed in the opening bud? Farewell, sweet blossom! better fate be thine And mock my boding! Dim similitudes Weaving in moral strains, I've stolen one hour 20 From anxious Self, Life's cruel taskmaster! And the warm wooings of this sunny day Tremble along my frame and harmonize The attempered organ, that even saddest thoughts Mix with some sweet sensations, like harsh tunes 25 Played deftly on a soft-toned instrument.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[148:2] First published in _The Watchman_, No. vi, April 11, 1796: included in 1797, 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[149:1] Chatterton.

LINENOTES:

Title] Lines on observing, &c., Written near Sheffield, Watchman, 1797, 1803.

[5] With 'blue voluptuous eye' 1803.

[Between 13 and 14] Blooming mid Poverty's drear wintry waste Watchman, 1797, 1803, S. L., 1817, 1828.

[16] hope] hopes, Watchman.

[21]

From black anxiety that gnaws my heart. For her who droops far off on a sick bed.

Watchman, 1797, 1803.

[24] Th' attempered brain, that ev'n the saddest thoughts Watchman, 1797, 1803.

TO A PRIMROSE[149:2]

THE FIRST SEEN IN THE SEASON

Nitens et roboris expers Turget et insolida est: et spe delectat. OVID, _Metam._ [xv. 203].

Thy smiles I note, sweet early Flower, That peeping from thy rustic bower The festive news to earth dost bring, A fragrant messenger of Spring.

But, tender blossom, why so pale? 5 Dost hear stern Winter in the gale? And didst thou tempt the ungentle sky To catch one vernal glance and die?

Such the wan lustre Sickness wears When Health's first feeble beam appears; 10 So languid are the smiles that seek To settle on the care-worn cheek,

When timorous Hope the head uprears, Still drooping and still moist with tears, If, through dispersing grief, be seen 15 Of Bliss the heavenly spark serene.

And sweeter far the early blow, Fast following after storms of Woe, Than (Comfort's riper season come) Are full-blown joys and Pleasure's gaudy bloom. 20

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[149:2] First published in _The Watchman_, No. viii, April 27, 1796: reprinted in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 47. First collected in Appendix to 1863.

LINENOTES:

_To a Primrose._--Motto: et] at L. R., App. 1863.

[17-20] om. L. R., App. 1863

VERSES[150:1]

ADDRESSED TO J. HORNE TOOKE AND THE COMPANY WHO MET ON JUNE 28TH, 1796, TO CELEBRATE HIS POLL AT THE WESTMINSTER ELECTION

Britons! when last ye met, with distant streak So faintly promis'd the pale Dawn to break: So dim it stain'd the precincts of the Sky E'en _Expectation_ gaz'd with doubtful Eye. But now such fair Varieties of Light 5 O'ertake the heavy sailing Clouds of Night; Th' Horizon kindles with so rich a red, That tho' the _Sun still hides_ his glorious head Th' impatient Matin-bird, _assur'd of Day_, Leaves his low nest to meet its earliest ray; 10 Loud the sweet song of Gratulation sings, And high in air claps his rejoicing wings! Patriot and Sage! whose breeze-like Spirit first The lazy mists of Pedantry dispers'd (Mists in which Superstition's _pigmy_ band 15 Seem'd Giant Forms, the Genii of the Land!), Thy struggles soon shall wak'ning Britain bless, And Truth and Freedom hail thy wish'd success. Yes _Tooke!_ tho' foul Corruption's wolfish throng Outmalice Calumny's imposthum'd Tongue, 20 Thy Country's noblest and _determin'd_ Choice, Soon shalt thou thrill the Senate with thy voice; With gradual Dawn bid Error's phantoms flit, Or wither with the lightning's flash of Wit; Or with sublimer mien and tones more deep, 25 Charm sworded Justice from mysterious Sleep, 'By violated Freedom's loud Lament, Her Lamps extinguish'd and her Temple rent; By the forc'd tears her captive Martyrs shed; By each pale Orphan's feeble cry for bread; 30 By ravag'd Belgium's corse-impeded Flood, And Vendee steaming still with brothers' blood!' And if amid the strong impassion'd Tale, Thy Tongue should falter and thy Lips turn pale; If transient Darkness film thy aweful Eye, 35 And thy tir'd Bosom struggle with a sigh: Science and Freedom shall demand to hear Who practis'd on a Life so doubly dear; Infus'd the unwholesome anguish drop by drop, Pois'ning the sacred stream they could not stop! 40 Shall bid thee with recover'd strength relate How dark and deadly is a Coward's Hate: What seeds of death by wan Confinement sown, When Prison-echoes mock'd Disease's groan! Shall bid th' indignant Father flash dismay, 45 And drag the unnatural Villain into Day Who[151:1] to the sports of his flesh'd Ruffians left Two lovely Mourners of their Sire bereft! 'Twas wrong, like this, which Rome's _first Consul_ bore, So by th' insulted Female's name _he_ swore 50 Ruin (and rais'd her reeking dagger high) Not to the _Tyrants_ but the Tyranny!

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[150:1] First printed in the _Transactions_ of the Philobiblon Society. First published in _P. W._, 1893. The verses (without the title) were sent by Coleridge in a letter to the Rev. J. P. Estlin, dated July 4, [1796].

[151:1] 'Dundas left thief-takers in Horne Tooke's House for three days, with his two Daughters _alone_: for Horne Tooke keeps no servant.' _S. T. C. to Estlin._

LINENOTES:

[31, 32] These lines are borrowed from the first edition (4{o}) of the _Ode to the Departing Year_.]

ON A LATE CONNUBIAL RUPTURE IN HIGH LIFE[152:1]

[PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF WALES]

I sigh, fair injur'd stranger! for thy fate; But what shall sighs avail thee? thy poor heart, 'Mid all the 'pomp and circumstance' of state, Shivers in nakedness. Unbidden, start

Sad recollections of Hope's garish dream, 5 That shaped a seraph form, and named it Love, Its hues gay-varying, as the orient beam Varies the neck of Cytherea's dove.

To one soft accent of domestic joy Poor are the shouts that shake the high-arch'd dome; 10 Those plaudits that thy _public_ path annoy, Alas! they tell thee--Thou'rt a wretch _at home_!

O then retire, and weep! _Their very woes Solace the guiltless._ Drop the pearly flood On thy sweet infant, as the full-blown rose, 15 Surcharg'd with dew, bends o'er its neighbouring bud.

And ah! that Truth some holy spell might lend To lure thy Wanderer from the Syren's power; Then bid your souls inseparably blend Like two bright dew-drops meeting in a flower. 20

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[152:1] First published in the _Monthly Magazine_, September 1796, vol. ii, pp. 64-7, reprinted in _Felix Farley's Bristol Journal_, Saturday, Oct. 8, 1796, and in the _Poetical Register_, 1806-7 [1811, vol. vi, p. 365]. First collected in _P. and D. W._, 1877, i. 187. The lines were sent in a letter to Estlin, dated July 4, 1796.

LINENOTES:

Title] To an Unfortunate Princess MS. Letter, July 4, 1796.

[17] might] could MS. Letter, 1796.

[18] thy] the Felix Farley's, &c.

[20] meeting] bosomed MS. Letter, 1796.

SONNET[152:2]

ON RECEIVING A LETTER INFORMING ME OF THE BIRTH OF A SON

When they did greet me father, sudden awe Weigh'd down my spirit: I retired and knelt Seeking the throne of grace, but inly felt No heavenly visitation upwards draw My feeble mind, nor cheering ray impart. 5 Ah me! before the Eternal Sire I brought Th' unquiet silence of confuséd thought And shapeless feelings: my o'erwhelméd heart Trembled, and vacant tears stream'd down my face. And now once more, O Lord! to thee I bend, 10 Lover of souls! and groan for future grace, That ere my babe youth's perilous maze have trod, Thy overshadowing Spirit may descend, And he be born again, a child of God.

_Sept._ 20, 1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[152:2] First published in the 'Biographical Supplement' to the _Biographia Literaria_, 1847, ii. 379. First collected in _P. and D. W._, 1877-80. This and the two succeeding sonnets were enclosed in a letter to Poole, dated November 1, 1796. A note was affixed to the sonnet 'On Receiving', &c.: 'This sonnet puts in no claim to poetry (indeed as a composition I think so little of them that I neglected to repeat them to you) but it is a most faithful picture of my feelings on a very interesting event. When I was with you they were, indeed, excepting the first, in a rude and undrest shape.'

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet written on receiving letter informing me of the birth of a son, I being at Birmingham MS. Letter, Nov. 1, 1796.

[8] shapeless] hopeless B. L.

SONNET[153:1]

COMPOSED ON A JOURNEY HOMEWARD; THE AUTHOR HAVING RECEIVED INTELLIGENCE OF THE BIRTH OF A SON, SEPT. 20, 1796

Oft o'er my brain does that strange fancy roll Which makes the present (while the flash doth last) Seem a mere semblance of some unknown past, Mixed with such feelings, as perplex the soul Self-questioned in her sleep; and some have said[153:2] 5 We liv'd, ere yet this robe of flesh we wore.[154:1] O my sweet baby! when I reach my door, If heavy looks should tell me thou art dead, (As sometimes, through excess of hope, I fear) I think that I should struggle to believe 10 Thou wert a spirit, to this nether sphere Sentenc'd for some more venial crime to grieve; Did'st scream, then spring to meet Heaven's quick reprieve, While we wept idly o'er thy little bier!

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[153:1] First published in 1797: included in 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[153:2] Ἦν που ἡμῶν ἡ ψυχὴ πρὶν ἐν τῷδε τῷ ἀνθρωπίνῳ εἴδει γενέσθαι. Plat. _Phaedon_. Cap. xviii. 72 e.

[154:1] Almost all the followers of Fénelon believe that men are degraded Intelligences who had all once existed together in a paradisiacal or perhaps heavenly state. The first four lines express a feeling which I have often had--the present has appeared like a vivid dream or exact similitude of some past circumstances. _MS. Letter to Poole_, Nov. 1, 1796.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet composed on my journey home from Birmingham MS. Letter, 1796: Sonnet ix. To a Friend, &c. 1797: Sonnet xvii. To a Friend, &c. 1803.

[1-11]

Oft of some unknown Past such Fancies roll Swift o'er my brain as make the Present seem For a brief moment like a most strange dream When not unconscious that she dreamt, the soul Questions herself in sleep! and some have said We lived ere yet this fleshly robe we wore.

MS. Letter, 1796.

[6] robe of flesh] fleshy robe 1797, 1803.

[8] art] wert MS. Letter, 1796, 1797, 1803.

SONNET[154:2]

TO A FRIEND WHO ASKED, HOW I FELT WHEN THE NURSE FIRST PRESENTED MY INFANT TO ME

Charles! my slow heart was only sad, when first I scann'd that face of feeble infancy: For dimly on my thoughtful spirit burst All I had been, and all my child might be! But when I saw it on its mother's arm, 5 And hanging at her bosom (she the while Bent o'er its features with a tearful smile) Then I was thrill'd and melted, and most warm Impress'd a father's kiss: and all beguil'd Of dark remembrance and presageful fear, 10 I seem'd to see an angel-form appear-- 'Twas even thine, belovéd woman mild! So for the mother's sake the child was dear, And dearer was the mother for the child.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[154:2] First published in 1797: included in 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834. The 'Friend' was, probably, Charles Lloyd.

LINENOTES:

Title] To a Friend who wished to know, &c. MS. Letter, Nov. 1, 1796: Sonnet x. To a Friend 1797: Sonnet xix. To a Friend, &c. 1803.

[4] child] babe MS. Letter, 1796, 1797, 1803.

[5] saw] watch'd MS. Letter, 1796.

[11] angel-form] Angel's form MS. Letter, 1796, 1797, 1803.

[13] Comforts on his late eve, whose youthful friend. MS. correction by S. T. C. in copy of _Nugae Canorae_ in the British Museum.

SONNET[155:1]

[TO CHARLES LLOYD]

The piteous sobs that choke the Virgin's breath For him, the fair betrothéd Youth, who lies Cold in the narrow dwelling, or the cries With which a Mother wails her darling's death, These from our nature's common impulse spring, 5 Unblam'd, unprais'd; but o'er the piléd earth Which hides the sheeted corse of grey-hair'd Worth, If droops the soaring Youth with slacken'd wing; If he recall in saddest minstrelsy Each tenderness bestow'd, each truth imprest, 10 Such grief is Reason, Virtue, Piety! And from the Almighty Father shall descend Comforts on his late evening, whose young breast Mourns with no transient love the Agéd Friend.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[155:1] First published in _Poems on the Death of Priscilla Farmer_. By her Grandson, 1796, folio. It prefaced the same set of Lloyd's Sonnets included in the second edition of _Poems_ by S. T. Coleridge, 1797. It was included in C. Lloyd's _Nugae Canorae_, 1819. First collected in _P. and D. W._, 1877-80.

TO A YOUNG FRIEND[155:2]

ON HIS PROPOSING TO DOMESTICATE WITH THE AUTHOR

_Composed in_ 1796

A mount, not wearisome and bare and steep, But a green mountain variously up-piled, Where o'er the jutting rocks soft mosses creep, Or colour'd lichens with slow oozing weep; Where cypress and the darker yew start wild; 5 And, 'mid the summer torrent's gentle dash Dance brighten'd the red clusters of the ash; Beneath whose boughs, by those still sounds beguil'd, Calm Pensiveness might muse herself to sleep; Till haply startled by some fleecy dam, 10 That rustling on the bushy cliff above With melancholy bleat of anxious love, Made meek enquiry for her wandering lamb: Such a green mountain 'twere most sweet to climb, E'en while the bosom ach'd with loneliness-- 15 How more than sweet, if some dear friend should bless The adventurous toil, and up the path sublime Now lead, now follow: the glad landscape round, Wide and more wide, increasing without bound!

O then 'twere loveliest sympathy, to mark 20 The berries of the half-uprooted ash Dripping and bright; and list the torrent's dash,-- Beneath the cypress, or the yew more dark, Seated at ease, on some smooth mossy rock; In social silence now, and now to unlock 25 The treasur'd heart; arm linked in friendly arm, Save if the one, his muse's witching charm Muttering brow-bent, at unwatch'd distance lag; Till high o'er head his beckoning friend appears, And from the forehead of the topmost crag 30 Shouts eagerly: for haply _there_ uprears That shadowing Pine its old romantic limbs, Which latest shall detain the enamour'd sight Seen from below, when eve the valley dims, Tinged yellow with the rich departing light; 35 And haply, bason'd in some unsunn'd cleft, A beauteous spring, the rock's collected tears, Sleeps shelter'd there, scarce wrinkled by the gale! Together thus, the world's vain turmoil left, Stretch'd on the crag, and shadow'd by the pine, 40 And bending o'er the clear delicious fount, Ah! dearest youth! it were a lot divine To cheat our noons in moralising mood, While west-winds fann'd our temples toil-bedew'd: Then downwards slope, oft pausing, from the mount, 45 To some lone mansion, in some woody dale, Where smiling with blue eye, Domestic Bliss Gives _this_ the Husband's, _that_ the Brother's kiss!

Thus rudely vers'd in allegoric lore, The Hill of Knowledge I essayed to trace; 50 That verdurous hill with many a resting-place, And many a stream, whose warbling waters pour To glad, and fertilise the subject plains; That hill with secret springs, and nooks untrod, And many a fancy-blest and holy sod 55 Where Inspiration, his diviner strains Low-murmuring, lay; and starting from the rock's Stiff evergreens, (whose spreading foliage mocks Want's barren soil, and the bleak frosts of age, And Bigotry's mad fire-invoking rage!) 60 O meek retiring spirit! we will climb, Cheering and cheered, this lovely hill sublime; And from the stirring world up-lifted high (Whose noises, faintly wafted on the wind, To quiet musings shall attune the mind, 65 And oft the melancholy _theme_ supply), There, while the prospect through the gazing eye Pours all its healthful greenness on the soul, We'll smile at wealth, and learn to smile at fame, Our hopes, our knowledge, and our joys the same, 70 As neighbouring fountains image each the whole: Then when the mind hath drunk its fill of truth We'll discipline the heart to pure delight, Rekindling sober joy's domestic flame. They whom I love shall love thee, honour'd youth! 75 Now may Heaven realise this vision bright!

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[155:2] First published in 1797: included in 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] To C. Lloyd on his proposing to domesticate, &c. 1797: To a Friend, &c. 1803. 'Composed in 1796' was added in S. L.

[8] those still] stilly 1797: stillest 1803.

[11] cliff] clift S. L., 1828, 1829.

[16] How heavenly sweet 1797, 1803.

[42] youth] Lloyd 1797: Charles 1803.

[46] lone] low 1797, 1803.

[60] And mad oppression's thunder-clasping rage 1797, 1803.

[69] We'll laugh at wealth, and learn to laugh at fame 1797, 1803.

[71] In 1803 the poem ended with line 71. In the Sibylline Leaves, 1829, the last five lines were replaced.

[72] hath drunk] has drank 1797: hath drank S. L., 1828, 1829.

[75] She whom I love, shall love thee. Honour'd youth 1797, S. L., 1817, 1828, 1829. The change of punctuation dates from 1834.

ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG MAN OF FORTUNE[157:1]

[C. LLOYD]

WHO ABANDONED HIMSELF TO AN INDOLENT AND CAUSELESS MELANCHOLY

Hence that fantastic wantonness of woe, O Youth to partial Fortune vainly dear! To plunder'd Want's half-shelter'd hovel go, Go, and some hunger-bitten infant hear Moan haply in a dying mother's ear: 5 Or when the cold and dismal fog-damps brood O'er the rank church-yard with sear elm-leaves strew'd, Pace round some widow's grave, whose dearer part Was slaughter'd, where o'er his uncoffin'd limbs The flocking flesh-birds scream'd! Then, while thy heart 10 Groans, and thine eye a fiercer sorrow dims, Know (and the truth shall kindle thy young mind) What Nature makes thee mourn, she bids thee heal! O abject! if, to sickly dreams resign'd, All effortless thou leave Life's commonweal 15 A prey to Tyrants, Murderers of Mankind.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[157:1] First published in the _Cambridge Intelligencer_, December 17, 1796: included in the Quarto Edition of the _Ode on the Departing Year_, 1796, in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1828, 1829, and 1834. The lines were sent in a letter to John Thelwall, dated December 17, 1796 (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 207, 208).

LINENOTES:

Title] Lines, &c., C. I.: To a Young Man who abandoned himself to a causeless and indolent melancholy MS. Letter, 1796.

[6-7] These lines were omitted in the MS. Letter and 4{o} 1796, but were replaced in Sibylline Leaves, 1817.

[8] Or seek some widow's MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1796.

[11] eye] eyes MS. Letter, Dec. 9, 1796, C. I.

[15-16]

earth's common weal A prey to the thron'd Murderess of Mankind.

MS. Letter, 1796.

All effortless thou leave Earth's commonweal A prey to the thron'd Murderers of Mankind.

C. I., 1796, 4{o}.

TO A FRIEND[158:1]

[CHARLES LAMB]

WHO HAD DECLARED HIS INTENTION OF WRITING NO MORE POETRY

Dear Charles! whilst yet thou wert a babe, I ween That Genius plung'd thee in that wizard fount Hight Castalie: and (sureties of thy faith) That Pity and Simplicity stood by, And promis'd for thee, that thou shouldst renounce 5 The world's low cares and lying vanities, Steadfast and rooted in the heavenly Muse, And wash'd and sanctified to Poesy. Yes--thou wert plung'd, but with forgetful hand Held, as by Thetis erst her warrior son: 10 And with those recreant unbaptizéd heels Thou'rt flying from thy bounden ministeries-- So sore it seems and burthensome a task To weave unwithering flowers! But take thou heed: For thou art vulnerable, wild-eyed boy, 15 And I have arrows[159:1] mystically dipped Such as may stop thy speed. Is thy Burns dead? And shall he die unwept, and sink to earth 'Without the meed of one melodious tear'? Thy Burns, and Nature's own beloved bard, 20 Who to the 'Illustrious[159:2] of his native Land So properly did look for patronage.' Ghost of Mæcenas! hide thy blushing face! They snatch'd him from the sickle and the plough-- To gauge ale-firkins.

Oh! for shame return! 25 On a bleak rock, midway the Aonian mount, There stands a lone and melancholy tree, Whose agéd branches to the midnight blast Make solemn music: pluck its darkest bough, Ere yet the unwholesome night-dew be exhaled, 30 And weeping wreath it round thy Poet's tomb. Then in the outskirts, where pollutions grow, Pick the rank henbane and the dusky flowers Of night-shade, or its red and tempting fruit, These with stopped nostril and glove-guarded hand 35 Knit in nice intertexture, so to twine, The illustrious brow of Scotch Nobility!

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[158:1] First published in a Bristol newspaper in aid of a subscription for the family of Robert Burns (the cutting is bound up with the copy of _Selection of Sonnets_ (_S. S._) in the Forster Library in the Victoria and Albert Museum): reprinted in the _Annual Anthology_, 1800: included in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[159:1]

[Πολλά μοι ὑπ' ἀγκῶνος ὠκέα βέλη Ἔνδον ἐντὶ φαρέτρας Φωνᾶντα συνετοῖσιν.] Pind. _Olymp._ ii. 149, κ. τ. λ.

[159:2] Verbatim from Burns's Dedication of his Poems to the Nobility and Gentry of the Caledonian Hunt.

LINENOTES:

[1] whilst] while An. Anth.

[3] of] for S. S., An. Anth.

[25] gauge] guard S. L., 1817 (For 'guard' read 'guage'. _Errata_, p. [xii]).

[33] stinking hensbane S. S., An. Anth.: hensbane S. L., 1817.

[35] Those with stopped nostrils MS. correction in printed slip of the newspaper. See P. and D. W., 1877, ii. 379.

[After 37] E S T E E S I 1796, An. Anth.

ODE TO THE DEPARTING YEAR[160:1]

Ἰοὺ ἰού, ὢ ὢ κακά. Ὑπ' αὖ με δεινὸς ὀρθομαντείας πόνος Στροβεῖ, ταράσσων φροιμίοις δυσφροιμίοις.

* * * * *

Τὸ μέλλον ἥξει. Καὶ σύ μ' τάχει παρὼν Ἄγαν ἀληθόμαντιν οἰκτείρας ἐρεῖς. Aeschyl. _Agam._ 1173-75; 1199-1200.

ARGUMENT

The Ode[160:2] commences with an address to the Divine Providence that regulates into one vast harmony all the events of time, however calamitous some of them may appear to mortals. The second Strophe calls on men to suspend their private joys and sorrows, and devote them for a while to the cause of human nature in general. The first Epode speaks of the Empress of Russia, who died of an apoplexy on the 17th of November 1796; having just concluded a subsidiary treaty with the Kings combined against France. The first and second Antistrophe describe the Image of the Departing Year, etc., as in a vision. The second Epode prophesies, in anguish of spirit, the downfall of this country.

I

Spirit who sweepest the wild Harp of Time! It is most hard, with an untroubled ear Thy dark inwoven harmonies to hear! Yet, mine eye fix'd on Heaven's unchanging clime Long had I listen'd, free from mortal fear, 5 With inward stillness, and a bowéd mind; When lo! its folds far waving on the wind, I saw the train of the Departing Year! Starting from my silent sadness Then with no unholy madness, 10 Ere yet the enter'd cloud foreclos'd my sight, I rais'd the impetuous song, and solemnis'd his flight.

II[161:1]

Hither, from the recent tomb, From the prison's direr gloom, From Distemper's midnight anguish; 15 And thence, where Poverty doth waste and languish; Or where, his two bright torches blending, Love illumines Manhood's maze; Or where o'er cradled infants bending, Hope has fix'd her wishful gaze; 20 Hither, in perplexéd dance, Ye Woes! ye young-eyed Joys! advance! By Time's wild harp, and by the hand Whose indefatigable sweep Raises its fateful strings from sleep, 25 I bid you haste, a mix'd tumultuous band! From every private bower, And each domestic hearth, Haste for one solemn hour; And with a loud and yet a louder voice, 30 O'er Nature struggling in portentous birth, Weep and rejoice! Still echoes the dread Name that o'er the earth[161:2] Let slip the storm, and woke the brood of Hell: And now advance in saintly Jubilee 35 Justice and Truth! They too have heard thy spell, They too obey thy name, divinest Liberty!

III[162:1]

I mark'd Ambition in his war-array! I heard the mailéd Monarch's troublous cry-- 'Ah! wherefore does the Northern Conqueress stay![162:2] 40 Groans not her chariot on its onward way?' Fly, mailéd Monarch, fly! Stunn'd by Death's twice mortal mace, No more on Murder's lurid face The insatiate Hag shall gloat with drunken eye! 45 Manes of the unnumber'd slain! Ye that gasp'd on Warsaw's plain! Ye that erst at Ismail's tower, When human ruin choked the streams, Fell in Conquest's glutted hour, 50 Mid women's shrieks and infants' screams! Spirits of the uncoffin'd slain, Sudden blasts of triumph swelling, Oft, at night, in misty train, Rush around her narrow dwelling! 55 The exterminating Fiend is fled-- (Foul her life, and dark her doom) Mighty armies of the dead Dance, like death-fires, round her tomb! Then with prophetic song relate, 60 Each some Tyrant-Murderer's fate!

IV[164:1]

Departing Year! 'twas on no earthly shore My soul beheld thy Vision![164:2] Where alone, Voiceless and stern, before the cloudy throne, Aye Memory sits: thy robe inscrib'd with gore, 65 With many an unimaginable groan Thou storied'st thy sad hours! Silence ensued, Deep silence o'er the ethereal multitude, Whose locks with wreaths, whose wreaths with glories shone. Then, his eye wild ardours glancing, 70 From the choiréd gods advancing, The Spirit of the Earth made reverence meet, And stood up, beautiful, before the cloudy seat.

V

Throughout the blissful throng, Hush'd were harp and song: 75 Till wheeling round the throne the Lampads seven, (The mystic Words of Heaven) Permissive signal make: The fervent Spirit bow'd, then spread his wings and spake! 'Thou in stormy blackness throning 80 Love and uncreated Light, By the Earth's unsolaced groaning, Seize thy terrors, Arm of might! By Peace with proffer'd insult scared, Masked Hate and envying Scorn! 85 By years of Havoc yet unborn! And Hunger's bosom to the frost-winds bared! But chief by Afric's wrongs, Strange, horrible, and foul! By what deep guilt belongs 90 To the deaf Synod, 'full of gifts and lies!'[165:1] By Wealth's insensate laugh! by Torture's howl! Avenger, rise! For ever shall the thankless Island scowl, Her quiver full, and with unbroken bow? 95 Speak! from thy storm-black Heaven O speak aloud! And on the darkling foe Open thine eye of fire from some uncertain cloud! O dart the flash! O rise and deal the blow! The Past to thee, to thee the Future cries! 100 Hark! how wide Nature joins her groans below! Rise, God of Nature! rise.'

VI[166:1]

The voice had ceas'd, the Vision fled; Yet still I gasp'd and reel'd with dread. And ever, when the dream of night 105 Renews the phantom to my sight, Cold sweat-drops gather on my limbs; My ears throb hot; my eye-balls start; My brain with horrid tumult swims; Wild is the tempest of my heart; 110 And my thick and struggling breath Imitates the toil of death! No stranger agony confounds The Soldier on the war-field spread, When all foredone with toil and wounds, 115 Death-like he dozes among heaps of dead! (The strife is o'er, the day-light fled, And the night-wind clamours hoarse! See! the starting wretch's head Lies pillow'd on a brother's corse!) 120

VII

Not yet enslaved, not wholly vile, O Albion! O my mother Isle! Thy valleys, fair as Eden's bowers, Glitter green with sunny showers; Thy grassy uplands' gentle swells 125 Echo to the bleat of flocks; (Those grassy hills, those glittering dells Proudly ramparted with rocks) And Ocean mid his uproar wild Speaks safety to his Island-child! 130 Hence for many a fearless age Has social Quiet lov'd thy shore; Nor ever proud Invader's rage Or sack'd thy towers, or stain'd thy fields with gore.

VIII

Abandon'd of Heaven![167:1] mad Avarice thy guide, 135 At cowardly distance, yet kindling with pride-- Mid thy herds and thy corn-fields secure thou hast stood, And join'd the wild yelling of Famine and Blood! The nations curse thee! They with eager wondering Shall hear Destruction, like a vulture, scream! 140 Strange-eyed Destruction! who with many a dream Of central fires through nether seas up-thundering Soothes her fierce solitude; yet as she lies By livid fount, or red volcanic stream, If ever to her lidless dragon-eyes, 145 O Albion! thy predestin'd ruins rise, The fiend-hag on her perilous couch doth leap, Muttering distemper'd triumph in her charméd sleep.

IX

Away, my soul, away! In vain, in vain the Birds of warning sing-- 150 And hark! I hear the famish'd brood of prey Flap their lank pennons on the groaning wind! Away, my soul, away! I unpartaking of the evil thing, With daily prayer and daily toil 155 Soliciting for food my scanty soil, Have wail'd my country with a loud Lament. Now I recentre my immortal mind In the deep Sabbath of meek self-content; Cleans'd from the vaporous passions that bedim 160 God's Image, sister of the Seraphim.[168:1]

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[160:1] First published in the _Cambridge Intelligencer_, December 31, 1796, and at the same time issued in a quarto pamphlet (the Preface is dated December 26): included in 1797, 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, 1829, and 1834. The Argument was first published in 1797. In 1803 the several sentences were printed as notes to the Strophes, Antistrophes, &c. For the Dedication vide Appendices.

This Ode was written on the 24th, 25th, and 26th days of December, 1796; and published separately on the last day of the year. _Footnote, 1797, 1808_: This Ode was composed and was first published on the last day of that year. _Footnote, S. L., 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834._

[160:2] The Ode commences with an address to the great BEING, or Divine Providence, who regulates into one vast Harmony all the Events of Time, however Calamitous some of them appear to mortals. _1803_.

[161:1] The second Strophe calls on men to suspend their private Joys and Sorrows, and to devote their passions for a while to the cause of human Nature in general. _1803_.

[161:2] The Name of Liberty, which at the commencement of the French Revolution was both the occasion and the pretext of unnumbered crimes and horrors. _1803_.

[162:1] The first Epode refers to the late Empress of Russia, who died of an apoplexy on the 17th of November, 1796, having just concluded a subsidiary treaty with the kings combined against France. _1803_. The Empress died just as she had engaged to furnish more effectual aid to the powers combined against France. _C. I._

[162:2] A subsidiary Treaty had been just concluded; and Russia was to have furnished more effectual aid than that of pious manifestoes to the Powers combined against France. I rejoice--not over the deceased Woman (I never dared figure the Russian Sovereign to my imagination under the dear and venerable Character of WOMAN--WOMAN, that complex term for Mother, Sister, Wife!) I rejoice, as at the disenshrining of a Daemon! I rejoice, as at the extinction of the evil Principle impersonated! This very day, six years ago, the massacre of Ismail was perpetrated. THIRTY THOUSAND HUMAN BEINGS, MEN, WOMEN, AND CHILDREN, murdered in cold blood, for no other crime than that their garrison had defended the place with perseverance and bravery. Why should I recal the poisoning of her husband, her iniquities in Poland, or her late unmotived attack on Persia, the desolating ambition of her public life, or the libidinous excesses of her private hours! I have no wish to qualify myself for the office of Historiographer to the King of Hell--! December, 23, 1796. _4{o}_.

[164:1] The first Antistrophe describes the Image of the Departing Year, as in a vision; and concludes with introducing the Planetary Angel of the Earth preparing to address the Supreme Being. _1803_.

[164:2] '_My soul beheld thy vision!_' i. e. Thy Image in a vision. _4{o}_.

[165:1] Gifts used in Scripture for corruption. _C. I._

[166:1] The poem concludes with prophecying in anguish of Spirit the Downfall of this Country. _1803_.

[167:1] '_Disclaim'd of Heaven!_'--The Poet from having considered the peculiar advantages, which this country has enjoyed, passes in rapid transition to the uses, which we have made of these advantages. We have been preserved by our insular situation, from suffering the actual horrors of War ourselves, and we have shewn our gratitude to Providence for this immunity by our eagerness to spread those horrors over nations less happily situated. In the midst of plenty and safety we have raised or joined the yell for famine and blood. Of the one hundred and seven last years, fifty have been years of War. Such wickedness cannot pass unpunished. We have been proud and confident in our alliances and our fleets--but God has prepared the canker-worm, and will smite the _gourds_ of our pride. 'Art thou better than populous No, that was situate among the rivers, that had the waters round about it, whose rampart was the Sea? Ethiopia and Egypt were her strength and it was infinite: Put and Lubim were her helpers. Yet she was carried away, she went into captivity: and they cast lots for her honourable men, and all her great men were bound in chains. Thou also shalt be drunken: all thy strongholds shall be like fig trees with the first ripe figs; if they be shaken, they shall even fall into the mouth of the eater. Thou hast multiplied thy merchants above the stars of heaven. Thy crowned are as the locusts; and thy captains as the great grasshoppers which camp in the hedges in the cool-day; but when the Sun ariseth they flee away, and their place is not known where they are. There is no healing of thy bruise; thy wound is grievous: all, that hear the report of thee, shall clap hands over thee: for upon whom hath not thy wickedness passed continually?' _Nahum_, chap. iii. _4{o}_, _1797_, _1803_.

[168:1] 'Let it not be forgotten during the perusal of this Ode that it was written many years before the abolition of the Slave Trade by the British Legislature, likewise before the invasion of Switzerland by the French Republic, which occasioned the Ode that follows [_France: an Ode._ First published as _The Recantation: an Ode_], a kind of Palinodia.' _MS. Note by S. T. C._

LINENOTES:

Title] Ode for the last day of the Year 1796, C. I.: Ode on the Departing Year 4{o}, 1797, 1803, S. L., 1817, 1828, 1829.

Motto] 3-5 All editions (4{o} to 1834) read ἐφημίοις for δυσφροιμίοις, and Ἄγαν γ' for Ἄγαν; and all before 1834 μην for μ' ἐν.

I] Strophe I C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[1] Spirit] Being 1803.

[4] unchanging] unchanged 4{o}.

[5] free] freed 4{o}.

[6] and a bowéd] and submitted 1803, S. L., 1817, 1828, 1829.

[7]

When lo! far onwards waving on the wind I saw the skirts of the DEPARTING YEAR.

C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[11] Ere yet he pierc'd the cloud and mock'd my sight C. I. foreclos'd] forebade 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

II] Strophe II C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[15-16]

From Poverty's heart-wasting languish From Distemper's midnight anguish

C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[22] Ye Sorrows, and ye Joys advance C. I. ye] and 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[25] Forbids its fateful strings to sleep C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[31] O'er the sore travail of the common Earth C. I., 4{o}.

[33-7]

Seiz'd in sore travail and portentous birth (Her eyeballs flashing a pernicious glare) Sick Nature struggles! Hark! her pangs increase! Her groans are horrible! but O! most fair The promis'd Twins she bears--Equality and Peace!

C. I., 4{o}.

[36] thy] the 1797, 1803.

III] Epode C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[40] Ah! whither C. I., 4{o}.

[41] on] o'er C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[43] 'twice mortal' mace C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[45] The insatiate] That tyrant C. I.] drunken] frenzied C. I.

[Between 51 and 52]

Whose shrieks, whose screams were vain to stir Loud-laughing, red-eyed Massacre

C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[58] armies] Army C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[61] Tyrant-Murderer's] scepter'd Murderer's C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[After 61]

When shall sceptred SLAUGHTER cease? A while he crouch'd, O Victor France! Beneath the lightning of thy lance; With treacherous dalliance courting PEACE--[163:A] But soon upstarting from his coward trance The boastful bloody Son of Pride betray'd His ancient hatred of the dove-eyed Maid. A cloud, O Freedom! cross'd thy orb of Light, And sure he deem'd that orb was set in night: For still does MADNESS roam on GUILT'S bleak dizzy height!

C. I.

When shall sceptred, &c.

* * * * *

With treacherous dalliance wooing Peace. But soon up-springing from his dastard trance The boastful bloody Son of Pride betray'd His hatred of the blest and blessing Maid. One cloud, O Freedom! cross'd thy orb of Light, And sure he deem'd that orb was quench'd in night: For still, &c.

4{o}.

[163:A] To juggle this easily-juggled people into better humour with the supplies (and themselves, perhaps, affrighted by the successes of the French) our Ministry sent an Ambassador to Paris to sue for Peace. The supplies are granted: and in the meantime the Archduke Charles turns the scale of victory on the Rhine, and Buonaparte is checked before Mantua. Straightways our courtly messenger is commanded to _uncurl_ his lips, and propose to the lofty Republic to _restore_ all _its_ conquests, and to suffer England to _retain_ all _hers_ (at least all her _important_ ones), as the only terms of Peace, and the ultimatum of the negotiation!

Θρασύνει γὰρ αἰσχρόμητις Τάλαινα ΠΑΡΑΚΟΠΑ πρωτοπήμων--AESCHYL., _Ag._ 222-4.

The friends of Freedom in this country are idle. Some are timid; some are selfish; and many the torpedo torch of hopelessness has numbed into inactivity. We would fain hope that (if the above account be accurate--it is only the French account) this dreadful instance of infatuation in our Ministry will rouse them to one effort more; and that at one and the same time in our different great towns the people will be called on to think solemnly, and declare their thoughts fearlessly by every method which the _remnant_ of the Constitution allows. _4{o}_.

IV] Antistrophe I. C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[62] no earthly] an awful C. I.

[65] thy . . . gore] there garmented with gore C. I., 4{o}, 1797.

[65-7]

Aye Memory sits: thy vest profan'd with gore. Thou with an unimaginable groan Gav'st reck'ning of thy Hours!

1803.

[68] ethereal] choired C. I.

[69] Whose purple locks with snow-white glories shone C. I., 4{o}: Whose wreathed locks with snow-white glories shone 1797, 1803.

[70] wild] strange C. I.

V] Antistrophe II. C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[74-9]

On every Harp on every Tongue While the mute Enchantment hung: Like Midnight from a thunder-cloud Spake the sudden Spirit loud.

C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

The sudden Spirit cried aloud.

C. I.

Like Thunder from a Midnight Cloud Spake the sudden Spirit loud

1803.

[83] Arm] God C. I.

[Between 83 and 84]

By Belgium's corse-impeded flood,[165:A] By Vendee steaming [streaming C. I.] Brother's blood.

C. I., 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[165:A] The Rhine. _C. I._, _1797_, _1803_.

[85] And mask'd Hate C. I.

[87] By Hunger's bosom to the bleak winds bar'd C. I.

[89] Strange] Most C. I.

[90] By] And C. I.

[91] Synod] Senate 1797, 1803.

[94-102]

For ever shall the bloody island scowl? For ever shall her vast and iron bow Shoot Famine's evil arrows o'er the world,[165:B] Hark! how wide Nature joins her groans below; Rise, God of Mercy, rise! why sleep thy bolts unhurl'd?

C. I.

For ever shall the bloody Island scowl? For aye, unbroken shall her cruel Bow Shoot Famine's arrows o'er thy ravaged World? Hark! how wide Nature joins her groans below-- Rise, God of Nature, rise, why sleep thy Bolts unhurl'd?

4{o}, 1797, 1803.

Rise God of Nature, rise! ah! why those bolts unhurl'd?

1797, 1803.

[165:B] 'In Europe the smoking villages of Flanders and the putrified fields of La Vendée--from Africa the unnumbered victims of a detestable Slave-Trade. In Asia the desolated plains of Indostan, and the millions whom a rice-contracting Governor caused to perish. In America the recent enormities of the Scalp-merchants. The four quarters of the globe groan beneath the intolerable iniquity of the nation.' See 'Addresses to the People', p. 46. _C. I._

[102] Here the Ode ends C. I.

VI] Epode II. 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[103] Vision] Phantoms 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[106] phantom] vision 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[107] sweat-drops] sweat-damps 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[113] stranger] uglier 4{o}.

[119] starting] startful 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[121] O doom'd to fall, enslav'd and vile 4{o}, 1797, 1803.

[133] proud Invader's] sworded Foeman's 4{o}, 1797: sworded Warrior's 1803.

[135-9]

Disclaim'd of Heaven! mad Avarice at thy side

4{o}, 1797.

At coward distance, yet with kindling pride-- Safe 'mid thy herds and cornfields thou hast stood, And join'd the yell of Famine and of Blood. All nations curse thee: and with eager wond'ring

4{o}, 1797.

[135] O abandon'd 1803.

[137-8]

Mid thy Corn-fields and Herds thou in plenty hast stood And join'd the loud yellings of Famine and Blood.

1803.

[139] They] and 1797, 1803, S. L. 1817.

[142] fires] flames 4{o}.

[144]

Stretch'd on the marge of some fire-flashing fount In the black Chamber of a sulphur'd mount.

4{o}.

[144] By livid fount, or roar of blazing stream 1797.

[146] Visions of thy predestin'd ruins rise 1803.

[151] famish'd] famin'd 4{o}.

[156] Soliciting my scant and blameless soil 4{o}.

[159-60]

In the long sabbath of high self-content. Cleans'd from the fleshly passions that bedim

4{o}.

In the deep sabbath of blest self-content Cleans'd from the fears and anguish that bedim

1797.

In the blest sabbath of high self-content Cleans'd from bedimming Fear, and Anguish weak and blind.

1803.

[161] om. 1803.

THE RAVEN[169:1]

A CHRISTMAS TALE, TOLD BY A SCHOOL-BOY TO HIS LITTLE BROTHERS AND SISTERS

Underneath an old oak tree There was of swine a huge company, That grunted as they crunched the mast: For that was ripe, and fell full fast. Then they trotted away, for the wind grew high: 5 One acorn they left, and no more might you spy. Next came a Raven, that liked not such folly: He belonged, they did say, to the witch Melancholy! Blacker was he than blackest jet, Flew low in the rain, and his feathers not wet. 10 He picked up the acorn and buried it straight By the side of a river both deep and great. Where then did the Raven go? He went high and low, Over hill, over dale, did the black Raven go. 15 Many Autumns, many Springs Travelled[170:1] he with wandering wings: Many Summers, many Winters-- I can't tell half his adventures.

At length he came back, and with him a She, 20 And the acorn was grown to a tall oak tree. They built them a nest in the topmost bough, And young ones they had, and were happy 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, not a word he spoke, But with many a hem! and a sturdy stroke, At length he brought down the poor Raven's own oak. His young ones were killed; for they could not depart, And their mother did die of a broken heart. 30

The boughs from the trunk the Woodman did sever; And they floated it down on the course of the river. They sawed it in planks, and its bark they did strip, And with this tree and others they made a good ship. The ship, it was launched; but in sight of the land 35 Such a storm there did rise as no ship could withstand. It bulged on a rock, and the waves rush'd in fast: Round and round flew the raven, and cawed to the blast. He heard the last shriek of the perishing souls-- See! see! o'er the topmast the mad water rolls! 40 Right glad was the Raven, and off he went fleet, And Death riding home on a cloud he did meet, And he thank'd him again and again for this treat: They had taken his all, and REVENGE IT WAS SWEET!

1797.

FOOTNOTES:

[169:1] First published in the _Morning Post_, March 10, 1798 (with an introductory letter, _vide infra_): included (with the letter, and except line 15 the same text) in the _Annual Anthology_, 1800, in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817 (pp. vi-viii), 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[To the editor of the _Morning Post_.]

'Sir,--I am not absolutely certain that the following Poem was written by EDMUND SPENSER, and found by an Angler buried in a fishing-box:--

'Under the foot of Mole, that mountain hoar, Mid the green alders, by the Mulla's shore.'

But a learned Antiquarian of my acquaintance has given it as his opinion that it resembles SPENSER'S minor Poems as nearly as Vortigern and Rowena the Tragedies of WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.--The Poem must be read in _recitative_, in the same manner as the Aegloga Secunda of the Shepherd's Calendar.

CUDDY.' _M. P._, _An. Anth._

[170:1] Seventeen or eighteen years ago an artist of some celebrity was so pleased with this doggerel that he amused himself with the thought of making a Child's Picture Book of it; but he could not hit on a picture for these four lines. I suggested a _Round-about_ with four seats, and the four seasons, as Children, with Time for the shew-man. Footnote, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817.

LINENOTES:

Title] 'A Christmas Tale,' &c., was first prefixed in S. L. 1817. The letter introduced the poem in the Morning Post. In the Annual Anthology the 'Letter' is headed 'The Raven'. Lamb in a letter to Coleridge, dated Feb. 5, 1797, alludes to this poem as 'Your _Dream_'.

[1-8]

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!

M. P., An. Anth., and (with variants given below) MS. S. T. C.

[1] Beneath a goodly old oak tree MS. S. T. C.: an old] a huge S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[6] ne more] and no more MS. S. T. C.

[7] Next] But soon MS. S. T. C.

[8] belonged it was said S. L. 1817.

[10] in the rain; his feathers were wet M. P., An. Anth., MS. S. T. C.

[15] O'er hill, o'er dale M. P.

[17] with] on MS. S. T. C.

[20] came back] return'd M. P., An. Anth., MS. S. T. C.

[21] to a tall] a large M. P., An. Anth., MS. S. T. C.

[22] topmost] uppermost MS. S. T. C.

[23] happy] jolly M. P., An. Anth.

[26] and _he_ nothing spoke M. P., An. Anth., MS. S. T. C.

[28] At length] Wel-a-day MS. S. T. C.: At last M. P., An. Anth.

[30] And his wife she did die M. P., An. Anth., MS. S. T. C.

[31] The branches from off it M. P., An. Anth.: The branches from off this the MS. S. T. C.

[32] And floated MS. S. T. C.

[33] They saw'd it to planks, and its rind M. P., An. Anth.: They saw'd it to planks and its bark MS. S. T. C.

[34] they built up a ship M. P., An. Anth.

[36] Such . . . ship] A tempest arose which no ship M. P., An. Anth., MS. S. T. C.

[38] The auld raven flew round and round M. P., An. Anth.: The old raven flew round and round MS. S. T. C., S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[39] He heard the sea-shriek of their perishing souls M. P., An. Anth., MS. S. T. C.

[40-4]

They be sunk! O'er the topmast the mad water rolls The Raven was glad that such fate they did _meet_. They had taken his all and REVENGE WAS SWEET.

M. P., An. Anth.

[40] See she sinks MS. S. T. C.

[41] Very glad was the Raven, this fate they did meet MS. S. T. C.

[42-3] om. MS. S. T. C.

[44] Revenge was sweet. An. Anth., MS. S. T. C., S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829.

After l. 44, two lines were added in Sibylline Leaves, 1817:--

We must not think so; but forget and forgive, And what Heaven gives life to, we'll still let it live.[171:A]

[171:A] Added thro' cowardly fear of the Goody! What a Hollow, where the Heart of Faith ought to be, does it not betray? this alarm concerning Christian morality, that will not permit even a Raven to be a Raven, nor a Fox a Fox, but demands conventicular justice to be inflicted on their unchristian conduct, or at least an antidote to be annexed. _MS. Note by S. T. C._

TO AN UNFORTUNATE WOMAN AT THE THEATRE[171:1]

Maiden, that with sullen brow Sitt'st behind those virgins gay, Like a scorch'd and mildew'd bough, Leafless 'mid the blooms of May!

Him who lur'd thee and forsook, 5 Oft I watch'd with angry gaze, Fearful saw his pleading look, Anxious heard his fervid phrase.

Soft the glances of the Youth, Soft his speech, and soft his sigh; 10 But no sound like simple Truth, But no _true_ love in his eye.

Loathing thy polluted lot, Hie thee, Maiden, hie thee hence! Seek thy weeping Mother's cot, 15 With a wiser innocence.

Thou hast known deceit and folly, Thou hast _felt_ that Vice is woe: With a musing melancholy Inly arm'd, go, Maiden! go. 20

Mother sage of Self-dominion, Firm thy steps, O Melancholy! The strongest plume in Wisdom's pinion Is the memory of past folly.

Mute the sky-lark and forlorn, 25 While she moults the firstling plumes, That had skimm'd the tender corn, Or the beanfield's odorous blooms.

Soon with renovated wing Shall she dare a loftier flight, 30 Upward to the Day-Star spring, And embathe in heavenly light.

1797.

FOOTNOTES:

[171:1] First published in the _Morning Post_, December 7, 1797: included in the _Annual Anthology_, 1800, in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1828, 1829, and 1834. For MS. sent to Cottle, see _E. R._ 1834, i. 213, 214.

LINENOTES:

Title] To an Unfortunate Woman in the Back Seats of the Boxes at the Theatre M. P.: To an Unfortunate Young Woman whom I had known in the days of her Innocence MS. sent to Cottle, E. R. i. 213: To an Unfortunate Woman whom the Author knew in the days of her Innocence. Composed at the Theatre An. Anth. 1800.

[1] Maiden] Sufferer An. Anth.

[In place of 5-12]

Inly gnawing, thy distresses Mock those starts of wanton glee; And thy inmost soul confesses Chaste Affection's [affliction's An. Anth.] majesty.

MS. Cottle, An. Anth.

[14] Maiden] Sufferer An. Anth.

[22] Firm are thy steps M. P.

[25] sky-lark] Lavrac MS. Cottle, An. Anth.

[26] the] those MS. Cottle, M. P., An. Anth.

[27] Which late had M. P.

[31] Upwards to the day star sing MS. Cottle, An. Anth.

Stanzas ii, iii, v, vi are not in MS. Cottle nor in the Annual Anthology.

TO AN UNFORTUNATE WOMAN[172:1]

WHOM THE AUTHOR HAD KNOWN IN THE DAYS OF HER INNOCENCE

Myrtle-leaf that, ill besped, Pinest in the gladsome ray, Soil'd beneath the common tread Far from thy protecting spray!

When the Partridge o'er the sheaf 5 Whirr'd along the yellow vale, Sad I saw thee, heedless leaf! Love the dalliance of the gale.

Lightly didst thou, foolish thing! Heave and flutter to his sighs, 10 While the flatterer, on his wing, Woo'd and whisper'd thee to rise.

Gaily from thy mother-stalk Wert thou danc'd and wafted high-- Soon on this unshelter'd walk 15 Flung to fade, to rot and die.

1797.

FOOTNOTES:

[172:1] First published in 1797: included in 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Allegorical Lines on the Same Subject MS. Cottle.

[5]

When the scythes-man o'er his sheaf Caroll'd in the yellow vale

MS. Cottle.

When the rustic o'er his sheaf Caroll'd in, &c.

1797.

[_Note._ The text of Stanza ii dates from 1803.]

[9] foolish] poor fond MS. Cottle.

[15] Soon upon this sheltered walk, MS. Cottle, Second Version.

[16] to fade, and rot. MS. Cottle.

TO THE REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE[173:1]

OF OTTERY ST. MARY, DEVON

_With some Poems_

Notus in fratres animi paterni. HOR. _Carm._ lib. II. 2.

A blesséd lot hath he, who having passed His youth and early manhood in the stir And turmoil of the world, retreats at length, With cares that move, not agitate the heart, To the same dwelling where his father dwelt; 5 And haply views his tottering little ones Embrace those agéd knees and climb that lap, On which first kneeling his own infancy Lisp'd its brief prayer. Such, O my earliest Friend! Thy lot, and such thy brothers too enjoy. 10 At distance did ye climb Life's upland road, Yet cheer'd and cheering: now fraternal love Hath drawn you to one centre. Be your days Holy, and blest and blessing may ye live!

To me the Eternal Wisdom hath dispens'd 15 A different fortune and more different mind-- Me from the spot where first I sprang to light Too soon transplanted, ere my soul had fix'd Its first domestic loves; and hence through life Chasing chance-started friendships. A brief while 20 Some have preserv'd me from life's pelting ills; But, like a tree with leaves of feeble stem, If the clouds lasted, and a sudden breeze Ruffled the boughs, they on my head at once Dropped the collected shower; and some most false, 25 False and fair-foliag'd as the Manchineel, Have tempted me to slumber in their shade E'en mid the storm; then breathing subtlest damps, Mix'd their own venom with the rain from Heaven, That I woke poison'd! But, all praise to Him 30 Who gives us all things, more have yielded me Permanent shelter; and beside one Friend, Beneath the impervious covert of one oak, I've rais'd a lowly shed, and know the names Of Husband and of Father; not unhearing 35 Of that divine and nightly-whispering Voice, Which from my childhood to maturer years Spake to me of predestinated wreaths, Bright with no fading colours!

Yet at times My soul is sad, that I have roam'd through life 40 Still most a stranger, most with naked heart At mine own home and birth-place: chiefly then, When I remember thee, my earliest Friend! Thee, who didst watch my boyhood and my youth; Didst trace my wanderings with a father's eye; 45 And boding evil yet still hoping good, Rebuk'd each fault, and over all my woes Sorrow'd in silence! He who counts alone The beatings of the solitary heart, That Being knows, how I have lov'd thee ever, 50 Lov'd as a brother, as a son rever'd thee! Oh! 'tis to me an ever new delight, To talk of thee and thine: or when the blast Of the shrill winter, rattling our rude sash, Endears the cleanly hearth and social bowl; 55 Or when, as now, on some delicious eve, We in our sweet sequester'd orchard-plot Sit on the tree crook'd earth-ward; whose old boughs, That hang above us in an arborous roof, Stirr'd by the faint gale of departing May, 60 Send their loose blossoms slanting o'er our heads!

Nor dost not thou sometimes recall those hours, When with the joy of hope thou gavest thine ear To my wild firstling-lays. Since then my song Hath sounded deeper notes, such as beseem 65 Or that sad wisdom folly leaves behind, Or such as, tuned to these tumultuous times, Cope with the tempest's swell!

Those various strains, Which I have fram'd in many a various mood, Accept, my Brother! and (for some perchance 70 Will strike discordant on thy milder mind) If aught of error or intemperate truth Should meet thine ear, think thou that riper Age Will calm it down, and let thy love forgive it!

NETHER-STOWEY, SOMERSET, _May_ 26, 1797.

FOOTNOTES:

[173:1] First published as the Dedication to the Poems of 1797: included in 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834. In a copy of the _Poems_ of 1797, formerly in the possession of the late Mr. Frederick Locker-Lampson, Coleridge affixed the following note to the Dedication--'N. B. If this volume should ever be delivered according to its direction, _i. e._ to Posterity, let it be known that the Reverend George Coleridge was displeased and thought his character endangered by the Dedication.'--S. T. Coleridge. _Note_ to _P. and D. W._, 1877-80, i. 163.

LINENOTES:

_To the Rev. George Coleridge_--Motto] lib. I. 2 S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[10] Thine and thy Brothers' favourable lot. 1803.

[23] and] or 1797, 1803.

[30] That I woke prison'd! But (the praise be His 1803.

[33-4]

I as beneath the covert of an oak Have rais'd

1803.

[35] not] nor 1797, 1803, S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[47-9]

Rebuk'd each fault, and wept o'er all my woes. Who counts the beatings of the lonely heart

1797, 1803.

[Between 52-3] My eager eye glist'ning with memry's tear 1797.

[62] thou] _thou_ all editions to 1834.

[Between 66-7] Or the high raptures of prophetic Faith 1797, 1803.

[68] strains] songs 1797, 1803.

ON THE CHRISTENING OF A FRIEND'S CHILD[176:1]

This day among the faithful plac'd And fed with fontal manna, O with maternal title grac'd, Dear Anna's dearest Anna!

While others wish thee wise and fair, 5 A maid of spotless fame, I'll breathe this more compendious prayer-- May'st thou deserve thy name!

Thy mother's name, a potent spell, That bids the Virtues hie 10 From mystic grove and living cell, Confess'd to Fancy's eye;

Meek Quietness without offence; Content in homespun kirtle; True Love; and True Love's Innocence, 15 White Blossom of the Myrtle!

Associates of thy name, sweet Child! These Virtues may'st thou win; With face as eloquently mild To say, they lodge within. 20

So, when her tale of days all flown, Thy mother shall be miss'd here; When Heaven at length shall claim its own And Angels snatch their Sister;

Some hoary-headed friend, perchance, 25 May gaze with stifled breath; And oft, in momentary trance, Forget the waste of death.

Even thus a lovely rose I've view'd In summer-swelling pride; 30 Nor mark'd the bud, that green and rude Peep'd at the rose's side.

It chanc'd I pass'd again that way In Autumn's latest hour, And wond'ring saw the selfsame spray 35 Rich with the selfsame flower.

Ah fond deceit! the rude green bud Alike in shape, place, name, Had bloom'd where bloom'd its parent stud, Another and the same! 40

1797.

FOOTNOTES:

[176:1] First published in the Supplement to _Poems_, 1797: reprinted in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 48, 49: included in 1844 and 1852. The lines were addressed to Anna Cruickshank, the wife of John Cruickshank, who was a neighbour of Coleridge at Nether-Stowey.

TRANSLATION[177:1]

OF A LATIN INSCRIPTION BY THE REV. W. L. BOWLES IN NETHER-STOWEY CHURCH

Depart in joy from this world's noise and strife To the deep quiet of celestial life! Depart!--Affection's self reproves the tear Which falls, O honour'd Parent! on thy bier;-- Yet Nature will be heard, the heart will swell, 5 And the voice tremble with a last Farewell!

1797.

[_The Tablet is erected to the Memory of Richard Camplin, who died Jan. 20, 1792._

'Lætus abi! mundi strepitu curisque remotus; Lætus abi! cæli quâ vocat alma Quies. Ipsa fides loquitur lacrymamque incusat inanem, Quæ cadit in vestros, care Pater, Cineres. Heu! tantum liceat meritos hos solvere Ritus, 5 Naturæ et tremulâ dicere Voce, Vale!']

FOOTNOTES:

[177:1] First published in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 50. First collected in _P. and D. W._, 1877, ii. 365.

LINENOTES:

[6] Et longum tremulâ L. R. 1836.

THIS LIME-TREE BOWER MY PRISON[178:1]

[ADDRESSED TO CHARLES LAMB, OF THE INDIA HOUSE, LONDON]

In the June of 1797 some long-expected friends paid a visit to the author's cottage; and on the morning of their arrival, he met with an accident, which disabled him from walking during the whole time of their stay. One evening, when they had left him for a few hours, he composed the following lines in the garden-bower.[178:2]

Well, they are gone, and here must I remain, This lime-tree bower my prison! I have lost Beauties and feelings, such as would have been Most sweet to my remembrance even when age Had dimm'd mine eyes to blindness! They, meanwhile, 5 Friends, whom I never more may meet again, On springy[179:1] heath, along the hill-top edge, Wander in gladness, and wind down, perchance, To that still roaring dell, of which I told; The roaring dell, o'erwooded, narrow, deep, 10 And only speckled by the mid-day sun; Where its slim trunk the ash from rock to rock Flings arching like a bridge;--that branchless ash, Unsunn'd and damp, whose few poor yellow leaves Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still, 15 Fann'd by the water-fall! and there my friends Behold the dark green file of long lank weeds,[179:2] That all at once (a most fantastic sight!) Still nod and drip beneath the dripping edge Of the blue clay-stone.

Now, my friends emerge 20 Beneath the wide wide Heaven--and view again The many-steepled tract magnificent Of hilly fields and meadows, and the sea, With some fair bark, perhaps, whose sails light up The slip of smooth clear blue betwixt two Isles 25 Of purple shadow! Yes! they wander on In gladness all; but thou, methinks, most glad, My gentle-hearted Charles! for thou hast pined And hunger'd after Nature, many a year, In the great City pent, winning thy way 30 With sad yet patient soul, through evil and pain And strange calamity! Ah! slowly sink Behind the western ridge, thou glorious Sun! Shine in the slant beams of the sinking orb, Ye purple heath-flowers! richlier burn, ye clouds! 35 Live in the yellow light, ye distant groves! And kindle, thou blue Ocean! So my friend Struck with deep joy may stand, as I have stood, Silent with swimming sense; yea, gazing round On the wide landscape, gaze till all doth seem 40 Less gross than bodily; and of such hues As veil the Almighty Spirit, when yet he makes Spirits perceive his presence.

A delight Comes sudden on my heart, and I am glad As I myself were there! Nor in this bower, 45 This little lime-tree bower, have I not mark'd Much that has sooth'd me. Pale beneath the blaze Hung the transparent foliage; and I watch'd Some broad and sunny leaf, and lov'd to see The shadow of the leaf and stem above 50 Dappling its sunshine! And that walnut-tree Was richly ting'd, and a deep radiance lay Full on the ancient ivy, which usurps Those fronting elms, and now, with blackest mass Makes their dark branches gleam a lighter hue 55 Through the late twilight: and though now the bat Wheels silent by, and not a swallow twitters, Yet still the solitary humble-bee Sings in the bean-flower! Henceforth I shall know That Nature ne'er deserts the wise and pure; 60 No plot so narrow, be but Nature there, No waste so vacant, but may well employ Each faculty of sense, and keep the heart Awake to Love and Beauty! and sometimes 'Tis well to be bereft of promis'd good, 65 That we may lift the soul, and contemplate With lively joy the joys we cannot share. My gentle-hearted Charles! when the last rook Beat its straight path along the dusky air Homewards, I blest it! deeming its black wing 70 (Now a dim speck, now vanishing in light) Had cross'd the mighty Orb's dilated glory, While thou stood'st gazing; or, when all was still, Flew creeking o'er thy head, and had a charm[181:1] For thee, my gentle-hearted Charles, to whom 75 No sound is dissonant which tells of Life.

1797.

FOOTNOTES:

[178:1] First published in the _Annual Anthology_, 1800, reprinted in Mylius' _Poetical Classbook_, 1810: included in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, in 1828, 1829, and 1834. The poem was sent in a letter to Southey, July 9, 1797, and in a letter to C. Lloyd, [July, 1797]. See _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 225-7 and _P. W._, 1893, p. 591.

[178:2] 'Ch. and Mary Lamb--dear to my heart, yea, as it were my Heart.--S. T. C. Æt. 63; 1834--1797-1834 = 37 years!' (Marginal note written by S. T. Coleridge over against the introductory note to 'This Lime-Tree Bower my Prison', in a copy of the _Poetical Works_, 1834.)

[179:1] 'Elastic, I mean.' _MS. Letter to Southey._

[179:2] The _Asplenium Scolopendrium_, called in some countries the Adder's Tongue, in others the Hart's Tongue, but Withering gives the Adder's Tongue as the trivial name of the _Ophioglossum_ only.

[181:1] Some months after I had written this line, it gave me pleasure to find [to observe _An. Anth._, _S. L. 1828_] that Bartram had observed the same circumstance of the Savanna Crane. 'When these Birds move their wings in flight, their strokes are slow, moderate and regular; and even when at a considerable distance or high above us, we plainly hear the quill-feathers: their shafts and webs upon one another creek as the joints or working of a vessel in a tempestuous sea.'

LINENOTES:

Title] This Lime-Tree Bower my Prison. A Poem Addressed, &c. An. Anth.: the words 'Addressed to', &c., are omitted in Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[1-28]

Well, they are gone, and here must I remain, Lam'd by the scathe of fire, lonely and faint, This lime-tree bower my prison! They, meantime, My Friends, whom I may never meet again, On springy heath, along the hill-top edge 5 Wander delighted, and look down, perchance, On that same rifted dell, where many an ash Twists its wild limbs beside the ferny rock Whose plumy[178:A] ferns forever nod and drip Spray'd by the waterfall. But chiefly thou 10 My gentle-hearted _Charles_! thou who had pin'd

MS. Letter to Southey, July 17, 1797.

[178:A] The ferns that grow in moist places grow five or six together, and form a complete 'Prince of Wales's Feather'--that is plumy. _Letter to Southey._

[1-28]

Well they are gone, and here I must remain This lime-tree, . . . hill-top edge Delighted wander, and look down, perchance, On that same rifted dell, where the wet ash Twists its wild limbs above, . . . who hast pin'd

MS. Letter to Lloyd [July, 1797].

[3] Such beauties and such feelings, as had been An. Anth., S. L.

[4] my remembrance] to have remembered An. Anth.

[6] My Friends, whom I may never meet again An. Anth., S. L.

[20] blue] dim An. Anth.

[22] tract] track An. Anth., S. L. 1828.

[24] bark, perhaps, which lightly touches An. Anth.

[28] hast] had'st An. Anth.

[31] patient] bowed MS. Letter to Southey.

[34] beams] heaven MS. Letter to Southey.

[38 foll.]

Struck with joy's deepest calm, and gazing round On the wide view[180:A] may gaze till all doth seem Less gross than bodily; a living thing That acts upon the mind, and with such hues As clothe th' Almighty Spirit, when he makes.

MS. Letter to Southey.

[180:A] You remember I am a _Berkleyan_. _Note to Letter._

[40] wide] wild S. L.

[40] (for _wild_ r. _wide_; and the two following lines thus:

Less gross than bodily; and of such hues As veil the Almighty Spirit

_Errata_, S. L., p. [xii].)

As veil the Almighty Spirit, when he makes

1828.

[41 foll.]

Less gross than bodily, a living thing Which acts upon the mind and with such hues As cloathe the Almighty Spirit, when he makes

An. Anth., S. L.

[45 foll.]

As I myself were there! Nor in the bower Want I sweet sounds or pleasing shapes. I watch'd The sunshine of each broad transparent leaf Broke by the shadows of the leaf or stem Which hung above it: and that walnut tree

MS. Letter to Southey.

[55] branches] foliage MS. Letter to Southey.

[56] and though the rapid bat MS. Letter to Southey.

[60-64] om. in MS. Letter to Lloyd.

[61-2] No scene so narrow but may well employ MS. Letter to Southey, An. Anth.

[68] My Sister and my Friends MS. Letter to Southey: My Sara and my Friends MS. Letter to Lloyd.

[70] Homewards] Homeward MS. Letter to Lloyd.

[71] om. in MS. Letter to Lloyd. in the light An. Anth., S. L. (omit _the_ before _light_. _Errata_, S. L., [p. xii]).

[72] Cross'd like a speck the blaze of setting day MS. Letter to Southey: Had cross'd the mighty orb's dilated blase. MS. Letter to Lloyd.

[73] While ye [you MS. Letter to Lloyd] stood MS. Letter to Southey.

[74] thy head] your heads MSS. Letters to Southey and Lloyd.

[75] For you my Sister and my Friends MS. Letter to Southey: For you my Sara and my Friends MS. Letter to Lloyd.

THE FOSTER-MOTHER'S TALE[182:1]

A DRAMATIC FRAGMENT

[From _Osorio_, Act IV. The title and text are here printed from _Lyrical Ballads_, 1798.]

_Foster-Mother._ I never saw the man whom you describe.

_Maria._ 'Tis strange! he spake of you familiarly As mine and Albert's common Foster-mother.

_Foster-Mother._ Now blessings on the man, whoe'er he be, That joined your names with mine! O my sweet lady, 5 As often as I think of those dear times When you two little ones would stand at eve On each side of my chair, and make me learn All you had learnt in the day; and how to talk In gentle phrase, then bid me sing to you-- 10 'Tis more like heaven to come than what _has_ been!

_Maria._ O my dear Mother! this strange man has left me Troubled with wilder fancies, than the moon Breeds in the love-sick maid who gazes at it, Till lost in inward vision, with wet eye 15 She gazes idly!--But that entrance, Mother!

_Foster-Mother._ Can no one hear? It is a perilous tale!

_Maria._ No one.

_Foster-Mother._ My husband's father told it me, Poor old Leoni!--Angels rest his soul! He was a woodman, and could fell and saw 20 With lusty arm. You know that huge round beam Which props the hanging wall of the old Chapel? Beneath that tree, while yet it was a tree, He found a baby wrapt in mosses, lined With thistle-beards, and such small locks of wool 25 As hang on brambles. Well, he brought him home, And rear'd him at the then Lord Velez' cost. And so the babe grew up a pretty boy, A pretty boy, but most unteachable-- And never learnt a prayer, nor told a bead, 30 But knew the names of birds, and mock'd their notes, And whistled, as he were a bird himself: And all the autumn 'twas his only play To get the seeds of wild flowers, and to plant them With earth and water, on the stumps of trees. 35 A Friar, who gather'd simples in the wood, A grey-haired man--he lov'd this little boy, The boy lov'd him--and, when the Friar taught him, He soon could write with the pen: and from that time, Lived chiefly at the Convent or the Castle. 40 So he became a very learnéd youth. But Oh! poor wretch!--he read, and read, and read, Till his brain turn'd--and ere his twentieth year, He had unlawful thoughts of many things: And though he prayed, he never lov'd to pray 45 With holy men, nor in a holy place-- But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet, The late Lord Velez ne'er was wearied with him. And once, as by the north side of the Chapel They stood together, chain'd in deep discourse, 50 The earth heav'd under them with such a groan, That the wall totter'd, and had well-nigh fallen Right on their heads. My Lord was sorely frighten'd; A fever seiz'd him, and he made confession Of all the heretical and lawless talk 55 Which brought this judgment: so the youth was seiz'd And cast into that hole. My husband's father Sobb'd like a child--it almost broke his heart: And once as he was working in the cellar, He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the youth's, 60 Who sung a doleful song about green fields, How sweet it were on lake or wild savannah, To hunt for food, and be a naked man, And wander up and down at liberty. He always doted on the youth, and now 65 His love grew desperate; and defying death, He made that cunning entrance I describ'd: And the young man escap'd.

_Maria._ 'Tis a sweet tale: Such as would lull a listening child to sleep, His rosy face besoil'd with unwiped tears.-- 70 And what became of him?

_Foster-Mother._ He went on shipboard With those bold voyagers, who made discovery Of golden lands. Leoni's younger brother Went likewise, and when he return'd to Spain, He told Leoni, that the poor mad youth, 75 Soon after they arriv'd in that new world, In spite of his dissuasion, seiz'd a boat, And all alone, set sail by silent moonlight Up a great river, great as any sea, And ne'er was heard of more: but 'tis suppos'd, 80 He liv'd and died among the savage men.

1797.

FOOTNOTES:

[182:1] First published in the first edition of the _Lyrical Ballads_, 1798, and reprinted in the editions of 1800, 1803, and 1805. The 'dramatic fragment' was excluded from the acting version of _Remorse_, but was printed in an Appendix, p. 75, to the Second Edition of the Play, 1813. It is included in the body of the work in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, and again in 1852, and in the Appendix to _Remorse_ in the editions of 1828, 1829, and 1834. It is omitted from 1844. 'The "Foster-Mother's Tale," (From Mr. C.'s own handwriting)' was published in Cottle's _Early Recollections_, i. 235.

'The following scene as unfit for the stage was taken from the Tragedy in 1797, and published in the _Lyrical Ballads_. But this work having been long out of print, and it having been determined, that this with my other poems in that collection (the _Nightingale_, _Love_, and the _Ancient Mariner_) should be omitted in any future edition, I have been advised to reprint it as a Note to the Second Scene of Act the Fourth, p. 55.' App. to _Remorse_, Ed. 2, 1813. [This note is reprinted in 1828 and 1829, but in 1834 only the first sentence is prefixed to the scene.]

LINENOTES:

Title] Foster-Mother's Tale. (Scene--Spain) Cottle, 1837: The, &c. A Narration in Dramatic Blank Verse L. B. 1800. In Remorse, App., 1813 and in 1828, 1829, 1834, the _dramatis personae_ are respectively Teresa and Selma. The fragment opens thus:--_Enter Teresa and Selma._

_Ter._ 'Tis said, he spake of you familiarly As mine and Alvar's common foster-mother.

In Cottle's version, the scene begins at line 4.

[1] man] Moor _Osorio_, MS. I.

[12-16] O my dear Mother . . . She gazes idly! om. 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[12] me] us Cottle, 1837.

[13] the] yon _Osorio_, MS. I.

[16] In Lyrical Ballads, 1800, the scene begins with the words: 'But that entrance'. But that entrance, Selma? 1813.

[19] Leoni] Sesina 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[27] Velez'] Valdez' 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834: Valez' S. L. 1817.

[34] To gather seeds 1813, S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[36] gather'd] oft culled S. L. 1817.

[41] So he became a rare and learned youth 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[41-2]

So he became a very learned man. But O poor youth

Cottle, 1837.

[48] Velez] Valdez 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834: Valez S. L. 1817.

[54] made a confession _Osorio_. A fever seiz'd the youth and he made confession Cottle, 1837.

[57] hole] cell L. B. 1800: den 1813. [And fetter'd in that den. MS. S. T. C.].

[59] in the cellar] near this dungeon 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[62] wild] wide 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[65] He always] Leoni L. B. 1800.

[68-9] om. L. B. 1800.

[73] Leoni's] Sesina's 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834. younger] youngest S. L. 1817.

[75] Leoni] Sesina 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

THE DUNGEON[185:1]

[From _Osorio_, Act V; and _Remorse_, Act V, Scene i. The title and text are here printed from _Lyrical Ballads_, 1798.]

And this place our forefathers made for man! This is the process of our love and wisdom, To each poor brother who offends against us-- Most innocent, perhaps--and what if guilty? Is this the only cure? Merciful God! 5 Each pore and natural outlet shrivell'd up By Ignorance and parching Poverty, His energies roll back upon his heart, And stagnate and corrupt; till chang'd to poison, They break out on him, like a loathsome plague-spot; 10 Then we call in our pamper'd mountebanks-- And this is their best cure! uncomforted And friendless solitude, groaning and tears, And savage faces, at the clanking hour, Seen through the steams and vapour of his dungeon, 15 By the lamp's dismal twilight! So he lies Circled with evil, till his very soul Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deform'd By sights of ever more deformity!

With other ministrations thou, O Nature! 20 Healest thy wandering and distemper'd child: Thou pourest on him thy soft influences, Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets, Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters, Till he relent, and can no more endure 25 To be a jarring and a dissonant thing, Amid this general dance and minstrelsy; But, bursting into tears, wins back his way, His angry spirit heal'd and harmoniz'd By the benignant touch of Love and Beauty. 30

1797.

FOOTNOTES:

[185:1] First published in the _Lyrical Ballads_, 1798, and reprinted in the _Lyrical Ballads_, 1800. First collected (as a separate poem) in _Poems_, 1893, p. 85.

LINENOTES:

[1] our] my _Osorio_, Act V, i. 107. 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834. man] men _Osorio_.

[15] steams and vapour] steaming vapours _Osorio_, V, i. 121: steam and vapours 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER[186:1]

IN SEVEN PARTS

Facile credo, plures esse Naturas invisibiles quam visibiles in rerum universitate. Sed horum omnium familiam quis nobis enarrabit? et gradus et cognationes et discrimina et singulorum munera? Quid agunt? quae loca habitant? Harum rerum notitiam semper ambivit ingenium humanum, nunquam attigit. Juvat, interea, non diffiteor, quandoque in animo, tanquam in tabulâ, majoris et melioris mundi imaginem contemplari: ne mens assuefacta hodiernae vitae minutiis se contrahat nimis, et tota subsidat in pusillas cogitationes. Sed veritati interea invigilandum est, modusque servandus, ut certa ab incertis, diem a nocte, distinguamus.--T. BURNET, _Archaeol. Phil._ p. 68.[186:2]

ARGUMENT

How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country. [_L. B._ 1798.][186:3]