FOOTNOTES:
[382:2] First published in the _Morning Post_ (?), Oct. 7, 1802:
included in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i.
54-6. First collected in 1844. In _Literary Remains_ the poem is dated
1809, but in a letter to J. Wedgwood, Oct. 20, 1802, Coleridge seems to
imply that the _Ode to the Rain_ had appeared recently in the _Morning
Post_. A MS. note of Mrs. H. N. Coleridge, included in other memoranda
intended for publication in _Essays on His Own Times_, gives the date,
'Ode to Rain, October 7'. The issue for October 7 is missing in the
volume for 1802 preserved in the British Museum, and it may be presumed
that it was in that number the _Ode to the Rain_ first appeared. It is
possible that the 'Ode' was written on the morning after the unexpected
arrival of Charles and Mary Lamb at Greta Hall in August, 1802.
LINENOTES:
[45] We] With L. R, 1844, 1852. [The text was amended in P. W.,
1877-80.]
A DAY-DREAM[385:1]
My eyes make pictures, when they are shut:
I see a fountain, large and fair,
A willow and a ruined hut,
And thee, and me and Mary there.
O Mary! make thy gentle lap our pillow! 5
Bend o'er us, like a bower, my beautiful green willow!
A wild-rose roofs the ruined shed,
And that and summer well agree:
And lo! where Mary leans her head,
Two dear names carved upon the tree! 10
And Mary's tears, they are not tears of sorrow:
Our sister and our friend will both be here to-morrow.
'Twas day! but now few, large, and bright,
The stars are round the crescent moon!
And now it is a dark warm night, 15
The balmiest of the month of June!
A glow-worm fall'n, and on the marge remounting
Shines, and its shadow shines, fit stars for our sweet fountain.
O ever--ever be thou blest!
For dearly, Asra! love I thee! 20
This brooding warmth across my breast,
This depth of tranquil bliss--ah, me!
Fount, tree and shed are gone, I know not whither,
But in one quiet room we three are still together.
The shadows dance upon the wall, 25
By the still dancing fire-flames made;
And now they slumber, moveless all!
And now they melt to one deep shade!
But not from me shall this mild darkness steal thee:
I dream thee with mine eyes, and at my heart I feel thee! 30
Thine eyelash on my cheek doth play--
'Tis Mary's hand upon my brow!
But let me check this tender lay
Which none may hear but she and thou!
Like the still hive at quiet midnight humming. 35
Murmur it to yourselves, ye two beloved women!
1802.
FOOTNOTES:
[385:1] First published in the _Bijou_ for 1828: included in 1828, 1829,
and 1834. Asra is Miss Sarah Hutchinson; 'Our Sister and our Friend,'
William and Dorothy Wordsworth. There can be little doubt that these
lines were written in 1801 or 1802.
LINENOTES:
[8] well] will Bijou, 1828.
[17] on] in Bijou, 1828.
[20] For Asra, dearly Bijou, 1828.
[28] one] me Bijou, 1828.
ANSWER TO A CHILD'S QUESTION[386:1]
Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove,
The Linnet and Thrush say, 'I love and I love!'
In the winter they're silent--the wind is so strong;
What it says, I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather, 5
And singing, and loving--all come back together.
But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he--
'I love my Love, and my Love loves me!' 10
1802.
FOOTNOTES:
[386:1] First published in the _Morning Post_, October 16, 1802:
included in _Sibylline Leaves_, in 1828, 1829, and 1834.
LINENOTES:
Title] The Language of Birds: Lines spoken extempore, to a little child,
in early spring M. P.
[Between 6-7]
'I love, and I love,' almost all the birds say
From sunrise to star-rise, so gladsome are they.
M. P.
[After 10]
'Tis no wonder that he's full of joy to the brim,
When He loves his Love, and his Love loves him.
M. P.
Line 10 is adapted from the refrain of Prior's _Song_ ('One morning very
early, one morning in the spring'):--'I love my love, because I know my
love loves me.'
THE DAY-DREAM[386:2]
FROM AN EMIGRANT TO HIS ABSENT WIFE
If thou wert here, these tears were tears of light!
But from as sweet a vision did I start
As ever made these eyes grow idly bright!
And though I weep, yet still around my heart
A sweet and playful tenderness doth linger, 5
Touching my heart as with an infant's finger.
My mouth half open, like a witless man,
I saw our couch, I saw our quiet room,
Its shadows heaving by the fire-light gloom;
And o'er my lips a subtle feeling ran, 10
All o'er my lips a soft and breeze-like feeling--
I know not what--but had the same been stealing
Upon a sleeping mother's lips, I guess
It would have made the loving mother dream
That she was softly bending down to kiss 15
Her babe, that something more than babe did seem,
A floating presence of its darling father,
And yet its own dear baby self far rather!
Across my chest there lay a weight, so warm!
As if some bird had taken shelter there; 20
And lo! I seemed to see a woman's form--
Thine, Sara, thine? O joy, if thine it were!
I gazed with stifled breath, and feared to stir it,
No deeper trance e'er wrapt a yearning spirit!
And now, when I seemed sure thy face to see, 25
Thy own dear self in our own quiet home;
There came an elfish laugh, and wakened me:
'Twas Frederic, who behind my chair had clomb,
And with his bright eyes at my face was peeping.
I blessed him, tried to laugh, and fell a-weeping! 30
1801-2.
FOOTNOTES:
[386:2] First published in the _Morning Post_, October 19, 1802. First
collected in _Poems_, 1852. A note (p. 384), was affixed:--'This little
poem first appeared in the _Morning Post_ in 1802, but was doubtless
composed in Germany. It seems to have been forgotten by its author, for
this was the only occasion on which it saw the light through him. The
Editors think that it will plead against parental neglect in the mind of
most readers.' Internal evidence seems to point to 1801 or 1802 as the
most probable date of composition.
LINENOTES:
[Below line 30] ΕΣΤΗΣΕ.
THE HAPPY HUSBAND[388:1]
A FRAGMENT
Oft, oft methinks, the while with thee,
I breathe, as from the heart, thy dear
And dedicated name, I hear
A promise and a mystery,
A pledge of more than passing life, 5
Yea, in that very name of Wife!
A pulse of love, that ne'er can sleep!
A feeling that upbraids the heart
With happiness beyond desert,
That gladness half requests to weep! 10
Nor bless I not the keener sense
And unalarming turbulence
Of transient joys, that ask no sting
From jealous fears, or coy denying;
But born beneath Love's brooding wing, 15
And into tenderness soon dying,
Wheel out their giddy moment, then
Resign the soul to love again;--
A more precipitated vein
Of notes, that eddy in the flow 20
Of smoothest song, they come, they go,
And leave their sweeter understrain,
Its own sweet self--a love of Thee
That seems, yet cannot greater be!
? 1802.
FOOTNOTES:
[388:1] First published in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in 1828,
1829, 1834. There is no evidence as to the date of composition.
LINENOTES:
[13] ask] fear S. L. (for _fear_ no sting read _ask_ no sting _Errata_,
p. [xi]).
THE PAINS OF SLEEP[389:1]
Ere on my bed my limbs I lay,
It hath not been my use to pray
With moving lips or bended knees;
But silently, by slow degrees,
My spirit I to Love compose, 5
In humble trust mine eye-lids close,
With reverential resignation,
No wish conceived, no thought exprest,
Only a sense of supplication;
A sense o'er all my soul imprest 10
That I am weak, yet not unblest,
Since in me, round me, every where
Eternal Strength and Wisdom are.
But yester-night I prayed aloud
In anguish and in agony, 15
Up-starting from the fiendish crowd
Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me:
A lurid light, a trampling throng,
Sense of intolerable wrong,
And whom I scorned, those only strong! 20
Thirst of revenge, the powerless will
Still baffled, and yet burning still!
Desire with loathing strangely mixed
On wild or hateful objects fixed.
Fantastic passions! maddening brawl! 25
And shame and terror over all!
Deeds to be hid which were not hid,
Which all confused I could not know
Whether I suffered, or I did:
For all seemed guilt, remorse or woe, 30
My own or others still the same
Life-stifling fear, soul-stifling shame.
So two nights passed: the night's dismay
Saddened and stunned the coming day.
Sleep, the wide blessing, seemed to me 35
Distemper's worst calamity.
The third night, when my own loud scream
Had waked me from the fiendish dream,
O'ercome with sufferings strange and wild,
I wept as I had been a child; 40
And having thus by tears subdued
My anguish to a milder mood,
Such punishments, I said, were due
To natures deepliest stained with sin,--
For aye entempesting anew 45
The unfathomable hell within,
The horror of their deeds to view,
To know and loathe, yet wish and do!
Such griefs with such men well agree,
But wherefore, wherefore fall on me? 50
To be beloved is all I need,
And whom I love, I love indeed.
1803.
FOOTNOTES:
[389:1] First published, together with _Christabel_, in 1816: included
in 1828, 1829, i. 334-6 (but not in _Contents_), and 1834. A first draft
of these lines was sent in a Letter to Southey, Sept. 11, 1803 (_Letters
of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 435-7), An amended version of lines 18-32 was
included in an unpublished Letter to Poole, dated Oct. 3, 1803.
LINENOTES:
[1] Ere] When MS. Letter to Southey, Sept. 11, 1803.
[9] sense] _sense_ MS. Letter to Southey, 1816, 1828, 1829.
[10] sense] _sense_ MS. Letter to Southey.
[12] Since round me, in me, everywhere MS. Letter to Southey.
[13] Wisdom] Goodness MS. Letter to Southey.
[16] Up-starting] Awaking MS. Letter to Southey.
[Between 18-26]
Desire with loathing strangely mixt,
On wild or hateful objects fixt.
Sense of revenge, the powerless will,
Still baffled and consuming still;
Sense of intolerable wrong,
And men whom I despis'd made strong!
Vain-glorious threats, unmanly vaunting,
Bad men my boasts and fury taunting:
Rage, sensual passion, mad'ning Brawl,
MS. Letter to Southey.
[18] trampling] ghastly MS. Letter to Poole, Oct. 3, 1803.
[19] intolerable] insufferable MS. Letter to Poole.
[20] those] they MS. Letter to Poole.
[Between 22-4]
Tempestuous pride, vain-glorious vaunting
Base men my vices justly taunting
MS. Letter to Poole.
[27] which] that MS. Letters to Southey and Poole.
[28] could] might MS. Letters to Southey and Poole.
[30] For all was Horror, Guilt, and Woe MS. Letter to Southey: For all
was Guilt, and Shame, and Woe MS. Letter to Poole.
[33] So] Thus MS. Letter to Southey.
[34] coming] boding MS. Letter to Southey.
[35-6]
I fear'd to sleep: sleep seem'd to be
Disease's worst malignity
MS. Letter to Southey.
[38] waked] freed MS. Letter to Southey.
[39] O'ercome by sufferings dark and wild MS. Letter to Southey.
[42] anguish] Trouble MS. Letter to Southey.
[43] said] thought MS. Letter to Southey.
[45-6]
Still to be stirring up anew
The self-created Hell within
MS. Letter to Southey.
[47] their deeds] the crimes MS. Letter to Southey.
[48] and] to MS. Letter to Southey.
[Between 48-51]
With such let fiends make mockery--
But I--Oh, wherefore this _on me_?
Frail is my soul, yea, strengthless wholly,
Unequal, restless, melancholy.
But free from Hate and sensual Folly.
MS. Letter to Southey.
[51] be] live MS. Letter to Southey.
[After 52] And etc., etc., etc., etc. MS. Letter to Southey.
THE EXCHANGE[391:1]
We pledged our hearts, my love and I,--
I in my arms the maiden clasping;
I could not guess the reason why,
But, oh! I trembled like an aspen.
Her father's love she bade me gain; 5
I went, but shook like any reed!
I strove to act the man--in vain!
We had exchanged our hearts indeed.
1804.
FOOTNOTES:
[391:1] First published in the _Courier_, April 16, 1804: included in
the _Poetical Register_ for 1804 (1805); reprinted in _Literary
Souvenir_ for 1826, p. 408, and in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 59.
First collected in 1844.
LINENOTES:
Title] The Exchange of Hearts Courier, 1804.
[2] Me in her arms Courier, 1804.
[3] guess] tell Lit. Souvenir, Lit. Rem., 1844.
[5] Her father's leave Courier, 1804, P. R. 1804, 1893.
[6] but] and Lit. Souvenir, Lit. Rem., 1844.
AD VILMUM AXIOLOGUM[391:2]
[TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH]
This be the meed, that thy song creates a thousand-fold echo!
Sweet as the warble of woods, that awakes at the gale of the morning!
List! the Hearts of the Pure, like caves in the ancient mountains
Deep, deep _in_ the Bosom, and _from_ the Bosom resound it,
Each with a different tone, complete or in musical fragments-- 5
All have welcomed thy Voice, and receive and retain and prolong it!
This is the word of the Lord! it is spoken, and Beings Eternal
Live and are borne as an Infant; the Eternal begets the Immortal:
Love is the Spirit of Life, and Music the Life of the Spirit!
? 1805.
FOOTNOTES:
[391:2] First published in _P. W._, 1893. These lines were found in one
of Coleridge's Notebooks (No. 24). The first draft immediately follows
the transcription of a series of Dante's _Canzoni_ begun at Malta in
1805. If the Hexameters were composed at the same time, it is possible
that they were inspired by a perusal or re-perusal of a MS. copy of
Wordsworth's unpublished poems which had been made for his use whilst he
was abroad. As Mr. Campbell points out (_P. W._, p. 614), Wordsworth
himself was responsible for the Latinization of his name. A _Sonnet on
seeing Miss Helen Maria Williams weeping at a tale of distress_, which
was published in the _European Magazine_ for March, 1787, is signed
'Axiologus'.
LINENOTES:
[1 foll.]
What is the meed of thy song? 'Tis the ceaseless the thousandfold
echo,
Which from the welcoming Hearts of the Pure repeats and prolongs it--
Each with a different Tone, compleat or in musical fragments.
Or
This be the meed, that thy Song awakes to a thousandfold echo
Welcoming Hearts; is it their voice or is it thy own?
Lost! the Hearts of the Pure, like caves in the ancient mountains
Deep, deep in the bosom, and _from_ the bosom resound it,
Each with a different tone, compleat or in musical fragments.
Meet the song they receive, and retain and resound and prolong it!
Welcoming Souls! is it their voice, sweet Poet, or is it thy own
voice?
Drafts in Notebook.
AN EXILE[392:1]
Friend, Lover, Husband, Sister, Brother!
Dear names close in upon each other!
Alas! poor Fancy's bitter-sweet--
Our names, and but our names can meet.
1805.
FOOTNOTES:
[392:1] First published, with title 'An Exile', in 1893. These lines,
without title or heading, are inserted in one of Coleridge's Malta
Notebooks.
SONNET[392:2]
[TRANSLATED FROM MARINI]
Lady, to Death we're doom'd, our crime the same!
Thou, that in me thou kindled'st such fierce heat;
I, that my heart did of a Sun so sweet
The rays concentre to so hot a flame.
I, fascinated by an Adder's eye-- 5
Deaf as an Adder thou to all my pain;
Thou obstinate in Scorn, in Passion I--
I lov'd too much, too much didst thou disdain.
Hear then our doom in Hell as just as stern,
Our sentence equal as our crimes conspire-- 10
Who living bask'd at Beauty's earthly fire,
In living flames eternal these must burn--
Hell for us both fit places too supplies--
In my heart _thou_ wilt burn, I _roast_ before thine eyes.
? 1805.
FOOTNOTES:
[392:2] First published in 1893. For the Italian original, 'Alia Sua
Amico,' _Sonetto_, vide Appendices of this Edition.
PHANTOM[393:1]
All look and likeness caught from earth,
All accident of kin and birth,
Had pass'd away. There was no trace
Of aught on that illumined face,
Uprais'd beneath the rifted stone 5
But of one spirit all her own;--
She, she herself, and only she,
Shone through her body visibly.
1805.
FOOTNOTES:
[393:1] These lines, without title or heading, are quoted ('vide . . .
my lines') in an entry in one of Coleridge's Malta Notebooks, dated Feb.
8, 1805, to illustrate the idea that the love-sense can be abstracted
from the accidents of form or person (see _Anima Poetae_, 1895, p. 120).
It follows that they were written before that date. _Phantom_ was first
published in 1834, immediately following (ii. 71) _Phantom or Fact. A
dialogue in Verse_, which was first published in 1828, and was probably
written about that time. Both poems are 'fragments from the life of
dreams'; but it was the reality which lay behind both 'phantom' and
'fact' of which the poet dreamt, having his eyes open. With lines 4, 5
compare the following stanza of one of the _MS._ versions of the _Dark
Ladié_:--
Against a grey stone rudely carv'd
The statue of an armed knight,
She lean'd in melancholy mood
To watch ['d] the lingering Light.
A SUNSET[393:2]
Upon the mountain's edge with light touch resting,
There a brief while the globe of splendour sits
And seems a creature of the earth; but soon
More changeful than the Moon,
To wane fantastic his great orb submits, 5
Or cone or mow of fire: till sinking slowly
Even to a star at length he lessens wholly.
Abrupt, as Spirits vanish, he is sunk!
A soul-like breeze possesses all the wood.
The boughs, the sprays have stood 10
As motionless as stands the ancient trunk!
But every leaf through all the forest flutters,
And deep the cavern of the fountain mutters.
1805.
FOOTNOTES:
[393:2] First published in 1893. The title 'A Sunset' was prefixed by
the Editor. These lines are inscribed in one of Coleridge's Malta
Notebooks. The following note or comment is attached:--'These lines I
wrote as nonsense verses merely to try a metre; but they are by no means
contemptible; at least in reading them I am surprised at finding them so
good. 16 Aug., 1805, Malta.
'Now will it be a more English music if the first and fourth are double
rhymes and the 5th and 6th single? or all single, or the 2nd and 3rd
double? Try.' They were afterwards sent to William Worship, Esq.,
Yarmouth, in a letter dated April 22, 1819, as an unpublished autograph.
LINENOTES:
[1] with light touch] all lightly MS.
[4] the] this MS.
[6] A distant Hiss of fire MS. alternative reading.
[7] lessens] lessened MS.
[12] flutters] fluttered MS.
[13] mutters] muttered MS.
WHAT IS LIFE?[394:1]
Resembles life what once was deem'd of light,
Too ample in itself for human sight?
An absolute self--an element ungrounded--
All that we see, all colours of all shade
By encroach of darkness made?-- 5
Is very life by consciousness unbounded?
And all the thoughts, pains, joys of mortal breath,
A war-embrace of wrestling life and death?
1805.
FOOTNOTES:
[394:1] First published in _Literary Souvenir_, 1829: included in
_Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 60. First collected in 1844. These lines,
'written in the same manner, and for the same purpose, but of course
with more conscious effort than the two stanzas on the preceding leaf,'
are dated '16 August, 1805, the day of the Valetta Horse-racing--bells
jangling, and stupefying music playing all day'. Afterwards, in 1819,
Coleridge maintained that they were written 'between the age of 15 and
16'.
LINENOTES:
[1] deem'd] held Lit. Souvenir, 1829.
[2] ample] simple MS.
[6]
{ [*per se*] (in its own Nature)
{ Is Life itself
MS.
THE BLOSSOMING OF THE SOLITARY DATE-TREE[395:1]
A LAMENT
I seem to have an indistinct recollection of having read either in one
of the ponderous tomes of George of Venice, or in some other compilation
from the uninspired Hebrew writers, an apologue or Rabbinical tradition
to the following purpose:
While our first parents stood before their offended Maker, and the
last 5
words of the sentence were yet sounding in Adam's ear, the guileful
false
serpent, a counterfeit and a usurper from the beginning, presumptuously
took on himself the character of advocate or mediator, and pretending to
intercede for Adam, exclaimed: 'Nay, Lord, in thy justice, not so! for
the man was the least in fault. Rather let the Woman return at once
to 10
the dust, and let Adam remain in this thy Paradise.' And the word of
the Most High answered Satan: '_The tender mercies of the wicked are
cruel._
Treacherous Fiend! if with guilt like thine, it had been possible for
thee
to have the heart of a Man, and to feel the yearning of a human soul for
its counterpart, the sentence, which thou now counsellest, should
have 15
been inflicted on thyself.'
The title of the following poem was suggested by a fact mentioned by
Linnaeus, of a date-tree in a nobleman's garden which year after year
had put forth a full show of blossoms, but never produced fruit, till a
branch from another date-tree had been conveyed from a distance of 20
some hundred leagues. The first leaf of the MS. from which the poem
has been transcribed, and which contained the two or three introductory
stanzas, is wanting: and the author has in vain taxed his memory to
repair the loss. But a rude draught of the poem contains the substance
of the stanzas, and the reader is requested to receive it as the
substitute. 25
It is not impossible, that some congenial spirit, whose years do not
exceed those of the Author at the time the poem was written, may find
a pleasure in restoring the Lament to its original integrity by a
reduction
of the thoughts to the requisite metre. _S. T. C._
1
Beneath the blaze of a tropical sun the mountain peaks are 30
the Thrones of Frost, through the absence of objects to reflect
the rays. 'What no one with us shares, seems scarce our own.'
The presence of a ONE,
The best belov'd, who loveth me the best,
is for the heart, what the supporting air from within is for the 35
hollow globe with its suspended car. Deprive it of this, and all
without, that would have buoyed it aloft even to the seat of the
gods,
becomes a burthen and crushes it into flatness.
2
The finer the sense for the beautiful and the lovely, and the
fairer and lovelier the object presented to the sense; the more 40
exquisite the individual's capacity of joy, and the more ample
his means and opportunities of enjoyment, the more heavily
will he feel the ache of solitariness, the more unsubstantial
becomes the feast spread around him. What matters it,
whether in fact the viands and the ministering graces are 45
shadowy or real, to him who has not hand to grasp nor arms
to embrace them?
3
Imagination; honourable aims;
Free commune with the choir that cannot die;
Science and song; delight in little things, 50
The buoyant child surviving in the man;
Fields, forests, ancient mountains, ocean, sky,
With all their voices--O dare I accuse
My earthly lot as guilty of my spleen,
Or call my destiny niggard! O no! no! 55
It is her largeness, and her overflow,
Which being incomplete, disquieteth me so!
4
For never touch of gladness stirs my heart,
But tim'rously beginning to rejoice
Like a blind Arab, that from sleep doth start 60
In lonesome tent, I listen for thy voice.
Belovéd! 'tis not thine; thou art not there!
Then melts the bubble into idle air,
And wishing without hope I restlessly despair.
5
The mother with anticipated glee 65
Smiles o'er the child, that, standing by her chair
And flatt'ning its round cheek upon her knee,
Looks up, and doth its rosy lips prepare
To mock the coming sounds. At that sweet sight
She hears her own voice with a new delight; 70
And if the babe perchance should lisp the notes aright,
6
Then is she tenfold gladder than before!
But should disease or chance the darling take,
What then avail those songs, which sweet of yore
Were only sweet for their sweet echo's sake? 75
Dear maid! no prattler at a mother's knee
Was e'er so dearly prized as I prize thee:
Why was I made for Love and Love denied to me?
1805.
FOOTNOTES:
[395:1] First published in 1828: included in 1829 and 1834.
LINENOTES:
[5] stood] were yet standing 1828.
[8] mediator] moderator 1828.
[9] The words 'not so' are omitted in 1828.
[11] _remain_ here all the days of his now mortal life, and enjoy the
respite thou mayest grant him, in this thy Paradise which thou gavest to
him, and hast planted with every tree pleasant to the sight of man and
of delicious fruitage. 1828.
[13 foll.] _Treacherous Fiend!_ guilt deep as thine could not be, yet
the love of kind not extinguished. But if having done what thou hast
done, thou hadst yet the heart of man within thee, and the yearning of
the soul for its answering image and completing counterpart, O spirit,
desperately wicked! the sentence thou counsellest had been thy own!
1828.
[20] from a Date tree 1828, 1839.
[48] Hope, Imagination, &c. 1828.
[53] With all their voices mute--O dare I accuse 1838.
[55] Or call my niggard destiny! No! No! 1838.
[61] thy] _thy_ 1828, 1829.
[77] thee] _thee_ 1828, 1829.
SEPARATION[397:1]
A sworded man whose trade is blood,
In grief, in anger, and in fear,
Thro' jungle, swamp, and torrent flood,
I seek the wealth you hold so dear!
The dazzling charm of outward form, 5
The power of gold, the pride of birth,
Have taken Woman's heart by storm--
Usurp'd the place of inward worth.
Is not true Love of higher price
Than outward Form, though fair to see, 10
Wealth's glittering fairy-dome of ice,
Or echo of proud ancestry?--
O! Asra, Asra! couldst thou see
Into the bottom of my heart,
There's such a mine of Love for thee, 15
As almost might supply desert!
(This separation is, alas!
Too great a punishment to bear;
O! take my life, or let me pass
That life, that happy life, with her!) 20
The perils, erst with steadfast eye
Encounter'd, now I shrink to see--
Oh! I have heart enough to die--
Not half enough to part from Thee!
? 1805.
FOOTNOTES:
[397:1] First published in 1834. In Pickering's one-volume edition of
the issue of 1848 the following note is printed on p. 372:--
'The fourth and last stanzas are adapted from the twelfth and last of
Cotton's _Chlorinda_ [Ode]:--
'O my Chlorinda! could'st thou see
Into the bottom of my heart,
There's such a Mine of Love for thee,
The Treasure would supply desert.
Meanwhile my Exit now draws nigh,
When, sweet Chlorinda, thou shalt see
That I have heart enough to die,
Not half enough to part with thee.
'The fifth stanza is the eleventh of Cotton's poem.'
In 1852 (p. 385) the note reads: 'The fourth and last stanzas are from
Cotton's _Chlorinda_, with very slight alteration.'
A first draft of this adaptation is contained in one of Coleridge's
Malta Notebooks:--
[I]
Made worthy by excess of Love
A wretch thro' power of Happiness,
And poor from wealth I dare not use.
[II]
This separation etc.
[III]
[*The Pomp of Wealth*]
[*Stores of Gold, the pomp of Wealth*]
[*Nor less the Pride of Noble Birth*]
The dazzling charm etc.
(l. 4) Supplied the place etc.
[IV]
Is not true Love etc.
[V]
O ΑΣΡΑ! ΑΣΡΑ could'st thou see
Into the bottom of my Heart!
There's such a Mine of Love for Thee--
The Treasure would supply desert.
[VI]
Death erst contemn'd--O ΑΣΡΑ! why
Now terror-stricken do I see--
Oh! I have etc.
THE RASH CONJURER[399:1]
Strong spirit-bidding sounds!
With deep and hollow voice,
'Twixt Hope and Dread,
Seven Times I said
Iohva Mitzoveh 5
Vohoeen![399:2]
And up came an imp in the shape of a
Pea-hen!
I saw, I doubted,
And seven times spouted 10
Johva Mitzoveh
Yahóevohāen!
When Anti-Christ starting up, butting
and bāing,
In the shape of a mischievous curly 15
black Lamb--
With a vast flock of Devils behind
and beside,
And before 'em their Shepherdess
Lucifer's Dam, 20
Riding astride
On an old black Ram,
With Tartary stirrups, knees up to her chin.
And a sleek chrysom imp to her Dugs muzzled in,--
'Gee-up, my old Belzy! (she cried, 25
As she sung to her suckling cub)
Trit-a-trot, trot! we'll go far and wide
Trot, Ram-Devil! Trot! Belzebub!'
Her petticoat fine was of scarlet Brocade,
And soft in her lap her Baby she lay'd 30
With his pretty Nubs of Horns a-
sprouting,
And his pretty little Tail all curly-twirly--
St. Dunstan! and this comes of spouting--
Of Devils what a Hurly-Burly! 35
'Behold we are up! what want'st thou then?'
'Sirs! only that'--'Say when and what'--
You'd be so good'--'Say what and when'
'This moment to get down again!'
'We do it! we do it! we all get down! 40
But we take you with us to swim
or drown!
Down a down to the grim Engulpher!'
'O me! I am floundering in Fire and Sulphur!
That the Dragon had scrounched you, squeal 45
and squall--
Cabbalists! Conjurers! great and small,
Johva Mitzoveh Evohāen and all!
Had _I_ never uttered your jaw-breaking words,
I might now have been sloshing down Junket and Curds,
Like a Devonshire Christian: 51
But now a Philistine!
Ye Earthmen! be warned by a judgement so tragic,
And wipe yourselves cleanly with all books of magic--
Hark! hark! it is Dives! 'Hold your Bother, you Booby!
I am burnt ashy white, and you yet are but ruby.' 56
_Epilogue._
We ask and urge (here ends the story)
All Christian Papishes to pray
That this unhappy Conjurer may
Instead of Hell, be but in Purgatory-- 60
For then there's Hope,--
Long live the Pope!
Catholicus.
? 1805, ? 1814.
FOOTNOTES:
[399:1] Now first printed from one of Coleridge's Notebooks. The last
stanza--the Epilogue--was first published by H. N. Coleridge as part of
an 'Uncomposed Poem', in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 52: first
collected in Appendix to _P. and D. W._, 1877-80, ii. 366. There is no
conclusive evidence as to the date of composition. The handwriting, and
the contents of the Notebook might suggest a date between 1813 and 1816.
The verses are almost immediately preceded by a detached note printed at
the close of an essay entitled 'Self-love in Religion' which is included
among the '_Omniana_ of 1809', _Literary Remains_, 1834, i. 354-6: 'O
magical, sympathetic, _anima_! [Archeus, _MS._] _principium
hylarchichum! rationes spermaticæ!_ λόγοι ποιητικοί! O formidable words!
And O Man! thou marvellous beast-angel! thou ambitious beggar! How
pompously dost thou trick out thy very ignorance with such glorious
disguises, that thou mayest seem to hide in order to worship it.'
With this piece as a whole compare Southey's 'Ballad of a Young Man that
would read unlawful Books, and how he was punished'.
[399:2] A cabbalistic invocation of Jehovah, obscure in the original
Hebrew. I am informed that the second word Mitzoveh may stand for 'from
Sabaoth'.
A CHILD'S EVENING PRAYER[401:1]
Ere on my bed my limbs I lay,
God grant me grace my prayers to say:
O God! preserve my mother dear
In strength and health for many a year;
And, O! preserve my father too, 5
And may I pay him reverence due;
And may I my best thoughts employ
To be my parents' hope and joy;
And O! preserve my brothers both
From evil doings and from sloth, 10
And may we always love each other
Our friends, our father, and our mother:
And still, O Lord, to me impart
An innocent and grateful heart,
That after my great sleep I may 15
Awake to thy eternal day! _Amen._
1806.
FOOTNOTES:
[401:1] First published in 1852. A transcript in the handwriting of Mrs.
S. T. Coleridge is in the possession of the Editor.
LINENOTES:
[3] mother] father MS.
[5] father] mother MS.
[6] him] her MS.
[7-8]
And may I still my thoughts employ
To be her comfort and her joy
MS.
[9] O likewise keep MS.
[13] But chiefly, Lord MS.
[15] great] last P. W. 1877-80, 1893.
[After 16] Our father, &c. MS.
METRICAL FEET[401:2]
LESSON FOR A BOY
Trōchĕe trīps frŏm lōng tŏ shōrt;
From long to long in solemn sort
Slōw Spōndēe stālks; strōng fo͞ot! yet ill able
Ēvĕr tŏ cōme ŭp wĭth Dācty̆l trĭsȳllăblĕ.
Ĭāmbĭcs mārch frŏm shōrt tŏ lōng;— 5
Wĭth ă le͞ap ănd ă bo͞und thĕ swĭft Ānăpæ̆sts thrōng;
One syllable long, with one short at each side,
Ămphībrăchy̆s hāstes wĭth ă stātely̆ stride;--
Fīrst ănd lāst bēĭng lōng, mīddlĕ shōrt, Am̄phĭmācer
Strīkes hĭs thūndērīng ho͞ofs līke ă pro͞ud hīgh-brĕd Rācer. 10
If Derwent be innocent, steady, and wise,
And delight in the things of earth, water, and skies;
Tender warmth at his heart, with these metres to show it,
With sound sense in his brains, may make Derwent a poet,--
May crown him with fame, and must win him the love 15
Of his father on earth and his Father above.
My dear, dear child!
Could you stand upon Skiddaw, you would not from its whole ridge
See a man who so loves you as your fond S. T. COLERIDGE.
1806.
FOOTNOTES:
[401:2] First published in 1834. The metrical lesson was begun for
Hartley Coleridge in 1806 and, afterwards, finished or adapted for the
use of his brother Derwent. The Editor possesses the autograph of a
metrical rendering of the Greek alphabet, entitled 'A Greek Song set to
Music, and sung by Hartley Coleridge, Esq., Graecologian, philometrist
and philomelist'.
LINENOTES:
Title] The chief and most usual Metrical Feet expressed in metre and
addressed to Hartley Coleridge MS. of Lines 1-7.
FAREWELL TO LOVE[402:1]
Farewell, sweet Love! yet blame you not my truth;
More fondly ne'er did mother eye her child
Than I your form: _yours_ were my hopes of youth,
And as _you_ shaped my thoughts I sighed or smiled.
While most were wooing wealth, or gaily swerving 5
To pleasure's secret haunts, and some apart
Stood strong in pride, self-conscious of deserving,
To you I gave my whole weak wishing heart.
And when I met the maid that realised
Your fair creations, and had won her kindness, 10
Say, but for her if aught on earth I prized!
_Your_ dreams alone I dreamt, and caught your blindness.
O grief!--but farewell, Love! I will go play me
With thoughts that please me less, and less betray me.
1806.
FOOTNOTES:
[402:1] First published in the _Courier_, September 27, 1806, and
reprinted in the _Morning Herald_, October 11, 1806, and in the
_Gentleman's Magazine_ for November, 1815, vol. lxxxv, p. 448: included
in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 280, and in _Letters, Conversations,
&c._, [by T. Allsop], 1836, i. 143. First collected, appendix, 1863.
This sonnet is modelled upon and in part borrowed from Lord Brooke's
(Fulke Greville) Sonnet LXXIV of Coelica: and was inscribed on the
margin of Charles Lamb's copy of _Certain Learned and Elegant Works of
the Right Honourable Fulke Lord Brooke_ . . . 1633, p. 284.
_'Cælica'. Sonnet lxxiv._
Farewell sweet Boy, complaine not of my truth;
Thy Mother lov'd thee not with more devotion;
For to thy Boyes play I gave all my youth
Yong Master, I did hope for your promotion.
While some sought Honours, Princes thoughts observing,
Many woo'd _Fame, the child of paine and anguish_,
Others judg'd inward good a chiefe deserving,
I in thy wanton Visions joy'd to languish.
I bow'd not to thy image for succession,
Nor bound thy bow to shoot reformed kindnesse,
The playes of hope and feare were my confession
The spectacles to my life was thy blindnesse:
But _Cupid_ now farewell, I will goe play me,
With thoughts that please me lesse, and lesse betray me.
For an adaptation of Sonnet XCIV, entitled 'Lines on a King-and-
Emperor-Making King--altered from the 93rd Sonnet of Fulke Greville',
vide Appendices of this edition.
LINENOTES:
[1-2]
Farewell my Love! yet blame ye not my Truth;
More fondly never mother ey'd her child
MS. 1806.
Sweet power of Love, farewell! nor blame my truth,
More fondly never Mother ey'd her Child
Courier, M. H.
[4] And as you wove the dream I sigh'd or smil'd MS. 1806: And as you
wove my thoughts, I sigh'd or smil'd Courier, M. H.
[5-7]
While some sought Wealth; others to Pleasure swerving,
Many woo'd Fame: and some stood firm apart
In joy of pride, self-conscious of deserving
MS. 1806, Courier, M. H.
[6] haunts] haunt L. R., Letters, &c., 1836, 1863.
[8] weak wishing] weak-wishing Courier, M. H.
[9] that] who Courier, M. H.
[13] will] must Courier, M. H.
TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH[403:1]
COMPOSED ON THE NIGHT AFTER HIS RECITATION OF A POEM ON THE GROWTH OF AN
INDIVIDUAL MIND
Friend of the wise! and Teacher of the Good!
Into my heart have I received that Lay
More than historic, that prophetic Lay
Wherein (high theme by thee first sung aright)
Of the foundations and the building up 5
Of a Human Spirit thou hast dared to tell
What may be told, to the understanding mind
Revealable; and what within the mind
By vital breathings secret as the soul
Of vernal growth, oft quickens in the heart 10
Thoughts all too deep for words!--
Theme hard as high!
Of smiles spontaneous, and mysterious fears
(The first-born they of Reason and twin-birth),
Of tides obedient to external force,
And currents self-determined, as might seem, 15
Or by some inner Power; of moments awful,
Now in thy inner life, and now abroad,
When power streamed from thee, and thy soul received
The light reflected, as a light bestowed--
Of fancies fair, and milder hours of youth, 20
Hyblean murmurs of poetic thought
Industrious in its joy, in vales and glens
Native or outland, lakes and famous hills!
Or on the lonely high-road, when the stars
Were rising; or by secret mountain-streams, 25
The guides and the companions of thy way!
Of more than Fancy, of the Social Sense
Distending wide, and man beloved as man,
Where France in all her towns lay vibrating
Like some becalméd bark beneath the burst 30
Of Heaven's immediate thunder, when no cloud
Is visible, or shadow on the main.
For thou wert there, thine own brows garlanded,
Amid the tremor of a realm aglow,
Amid a mighty nation jubilant, 35
When from the general heart of human kind
Hope sprang forth like a full-born Deity!
----Of that dear Hope afflicted and struck down,
So summoned homeward, thenceforth calm and sure
From the dread watch-tower of man's absolute self, 40
With light unwaning on her eyes, to look
Far on--herself a glory to behold,
The Angel of the vision! Then (last strain)
Of Duty, chosen Laws controlling choice,
Action and joy!--An Orphic song indeed, 45
A song divine of high and passionate thoughts
To their own music chaunted!
O great Bard!
Ere yet that last strain dying awed the air,
With stedfast eye I viewed thee in the choir
Of ever-enduring men. The truly great 50
Have all one age, and from one visible space
Shed influence! They, both in power and act,
Are permanent, and Time is not with them,
Save as it worketh for them, they in it.
Nor less a sacred Roll, than those of old, 55
And to be placed, as they, with gradual fame
Among the archives of mankind, thy work
Makes audible a linkéd lay of Truth,
Of Truth profound a sweet continuous lay,
Not learnt, but native, her own natural notes! 60
Ah! as I listened with a heart forlorn,
The pulses of my being beat anew:
And even as Life returns upon the drowned,
Life's joy rekindling roused a throng of pains--
Keen pangs of Love, awakening as a babe 65
Turbulent, with an outcry in the heart;
And fears self-willed, that shunned the eye of Hope;
And Hope that scarce would know itself from Fear;
Sense of past Youth, and Manhood come in vain,
And Genius given, and Knowledge won in vain; 70
And all which I had culled in wood-walks wild,
And all which patient toil had reared, and all,
Commune with thee had opened out--but flowers
Strewed on my corse, and borne upon my bier,
In the same coffin, for the self-same grave! 75
That way no more! and ill beseems it me,
Who came a welcomer in herald's guise,
Singing of Glory, and Futurity,
To wander back on such unhealthful road,
Plucking the poisons of self-harm! And ill 80
Such intertwine beseems triumphal wreaths
Strew'd before thy advancing!
Nor do thou,
Sage Bard! impair the memory of that hour
Of thy communion with my nobler mind
By pity or grief, already felt too long! 85
Nor let my words import more blame than needs.
The tumult rose and ceased: for Peace is nigh
Where Wisdom's voice has found a listening heart.
Amid the howl of more than wintry storms,
The Halcyon hears the voice of vernal hours 90
Already on the wing.
Eve following eve,
Dear tranquil time, when the sweet sense of Home
Is sweetest! moments for their own sake hailed
And more desired, more precious, for thy song,
In silence listening, like a devout child, 95
My soul lay passive, by thy various strain
Driven as in surges now beneath the stars,
With momentary stars of my own birth,
Fair constellated foam,[408:1] still darting off
Into the darkness; now a tranquil sea, 100
Outspread and bright, yet swelling to the moon.
And when--O Friend! my comforter and guide!
Strong in thyself, and powerful to give strength!--
Thy long sustainéd Song finally closed,
And thy deep voice had ceased--yet thou thyself 105
Wert still before my eyes, and round us both
That happy vision of belovéd faces--
Scarce conscious, and yet conscious of its close
I sate, my being blended in one thought
(Thought was it? or aspiration? or resolve?) 110
Absorbed, yet hanging still upon the sound--
And when I rose, I found myself in prayer.
_January_, 1807.
FOOTNOTES:
[403:1] First published in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in 1828,
1829, 1834. The poem was sent in a Letter to Sir G. Beaumont dated
January, 1807, and in this shape was first printed by Professor Knight
in _Coleorton Letters_, 1887, i. 213-18; and as Appendix H, pp. 525-6,
of _P. W._, 1893 (_MS. B._). An earlier version of about the same date
was given to Wordsworth, and is now in the possession of his grandson,
Mr. Gordon Wordsworth (_MS. W._). The text of _Sibylline Leaves_ differs
widely from that of the original MSS. Lines 11-47 are quoted in a Letter
to Wordsworth, dated May 30, 1815 (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i.
646-7), and lines 65-75 at the end of Chapter X of the _Biographia
Literaria_, 1817, i. 220.
[408:1] 'A beautiful white cloud of Foam at momentary intervals coursed
by the side of the Vessel with a Roar, and little stars of flame danced
and sparkled and went out in it: and every now and then light
detachments of this white cloud-like foam dashed off from the vessel's
side, each with its own small constellation, over the Sea, and scoured
out of sight like a Tartar Troop over a wilderness.' _The Friend_, p.
220. [From Satyrane's First Letter, published in _The Friend_, No. 14,
Nov. 23, 1809.]
LINENOTES:
Title] To W. Wordsworth. Lines Composed, for the greater part on the
Night, on which he finished the recitation of his Poem (in thirteen
Books) concerning the growth and history of his own Mind, Jan. 7, 1807,
Cole-orton, near Ashby de la Zouch MS. W.: To William Wordsworth.
Composed for the greater part on the same night after the finishing of
his recitation of the Poem in thirteen Books, on the Growth of his own
Mind MS. B.: To a Gentleman, &c. S. L. 1828, 1829.
[1] O Friend! O Teacher! God's great gift to me! MSS. W., B.
[Between 5-13]
Of thy own Spirit, thou hast lov'd to tell
What may be told, to th' understanding mind
Revealable; and what within the mind
May rise enkindled. Theme as hard as high!
Of Smiles spontaneous and mysterious Fear.
MS. W.
Of thy own spirit thou hast loved to tell
What _may_ be told, by words revealable;
With heavenly breathings, like the secret soul
Of vernal growth, oft quickening in the heart,
Thoughts that obey no mastery of words,
Pure self-beholdings! theme as hard as high,
Of _smiles_ spontaneous and mysterious _fear_.
MS. B.
[9] By vital breathings like the secret soul S. L. 1828.
[16] Or by interior power MS. W: Or by some central breath MS. Letter,
1815.
[17] inner] hidden MSS. W., B.
[Between 17-41]
Mid festive crowds, _thy_ Brows too garlanded,
A Brother of the Feast: of Fancies fair,
_Hyblaean murmurs of poetic Thought,
Industrious in its Joy_, by lilied Streams
_Native or outland, Lakes and famous Hills!
Of more than Fancy_, of the Hope of Man
_Amid the tremor of a Realm aglow--
Where France in all her Towns lay vibrating_
Ev'n as a Bark becalm'd on sultry seas
Beneath the voice from Heav'n, the bursting crash
_Of Heaven's immediate thunder! when no cloud
Is visible, or Shadow on the Main!_
Ah! soon night roll'd on night, and every Cloud
Open'd its eye of Fire: and Hope aloft
Now flutter'd, and now toss'd upon the storm
Floating! Of _Hope afflicted and struck down
Thence summoned homeward_--homeward to thy Heart,
Oft from the _Watch-tower of Man's absolute self_,
With light, &c.
MS. W.
[27] _social sense_ MS. B.
[28] Distending, and of man MS. B.
[29-30]
Even as a bark becalm'd on sultry seas
Quivers beneath the voice from Heaven, the burst
MS. B.
[30]
Ev'n as a bark becalm'd beneath the burst
MS. Letter, 1815, S. L. 1828.
[33] thine] thy MS. B., MS. Letter, 1815.
[37] a full-born] an arméd MS. B.
[38] Of that dear hope afflicted and amazed MS. Letter, 1815.
[39] So homeward summoned MS. Letter, 1815.
[40] As from the watch-tower MS. B.
[44] controlling] ? impelling, ? directing MS. W.
[45-6]
Virtue and Love--an Orphic Tale indeed
A Tale divine
MS. W.
[45] song] tale MS. B.
[46] song] tale MS. B. thoughts] truths MS. Letter, 1815.
[47-9]
Ah! great Bard
Ere yet that last swell dying aw'd the air
With stedfast ken I viewed thee in the choir
MS. W.
[48] that] the MS. B.
[49] With steadfast eyes I saw thee MS. B.
[52] for they, both power and act MS. B.
[53] them] _them_ S. L. 1828, 1829.
[54] _for_ them, they _in_ it S. L. 1828, 1829.
[58] lay] song MSS. W., B.
[59] lay] song MSS. W., B.
[61 foll.]
Dear shall it be to every human heart,
To me how more than dearest! me, on whom
Comfort from thee, and utterance of thy love,
Came with such heights and depths of harmony,
Such sense of wings uplifting, that the storm 5
Scatter'd and whirl'd me, till my thoughts became
A bodily tumult; and thy faithful hopes,
Thy hopes of me, dear Friend! by me unfelt!
Were troublous to me, almost as a voice,
Familiar once, and more than musical; 10
To one cast forth, whose hope had seem'd to die
A wanderer with a worn-out heart
Mid strangers pining with untended wounds.
O Friend, too well thou know'st, of what sad years
The long suppression had benumb'd my soul, 15
That even as life returns upon the drown'd,
The unusual joy awoke a throng of pains--
_Keen pangs_, &c.
MSS. B, W
with the following variants:--
ll. 5-6
Such sense of wings uplifting, that its might
Scatter'd and quell'd me--
MS. B.
ll. 11, 12
As a dear woman's voice to one cast forth
A wanderer with a worn-out heart forlorn.
[73] thee] _thee_ S. L. 1828, 1829.
[74] Strewed] Strewn MS. B., 1828, 1829.
[82] thy] _thy_ S. L. 1828, 1829.
[82-3]
Thou too, Friend!
O injure not the memory of that hour
MS. W.
Thou too, Friend!
Impair thou not the memory of that Hour
MS. B.
[93] Becomes most sweet! hours for their own sake hail'd MS. W.
[96] thy] the MS. B.
[98] my] her MS. B.
[102] and] my MSS. W., B.
[104] Song] lay MS. W.
[106] my] mine MSS. W., B.
[Between 107-8] (All whom I deepliest love--in one room all!) MSS. W.,
B.
AN ANGEL VISITANT[409:1]
Within these circling hollies woodbine-clad--
Beneath this small blue roof of vernal sky--
How warm, how still! Tho' tears should dim mine eye,
Yet will my heart for days continue glad,
For here, my love, thou art, and here am I!
? 1801.
FOOTNOTES:
[409:1] First published in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 280. First
collected in _P. and D. W._, 1877-80. The title was prefixed to the
_Poems of Coleridge_ (illustrated edition), 1907. This 'exquisite
fragment . . . was probably composed as the opening of _Recollections of
Love_, and abandoned on account of a change of metre.'--_Editor's Note_,
1893 (p. 635). It is in no way a translation, but the thought or idea
was suggested by one of the German stanzas which Coleridge selected and
copied into one of his Notebooks as models or specimens of various
metres. For the original, vide Appendices of this edition.
RECOLLECTIONS OF LOVE[409:2]
I
How warm this woodland wild Recess!
Love surely hath been breathing here;
And this sweet bed of heath, my dear!
Swells up, then sinks with faint caress,
As if to have you yet more near. 5
II
Eight springs have flown, since last I lay
On sea-ward Quantock's heathy hills,
Where quiet sounds from hidden rills
Float here and there, like things astray,
And high o'er head the sky-lark shrills. 10
III
No voice as yet had made the air
Be music with your name; yet why
That asking look? that yearning sigh?
That sense of promise every where?
Beloved! flew your spirit by? 15
IV
As when a mother doth explore
The rose-mark on her long-lost child,
I met, I loved you, maiden mild!
As whom I long had loved before--
So deeply had I been beguiled. 20
V
You stood before me like a thought,
A dream remembered in a dream.
But when those meek eyes first did seem
To tell me, Love within you wrought--
O Greta, dear domestic stream! 25
VI
Has not, since then, Love's prompture deep,
Has not Love's whisper evermore
Been ceaseless, as thy gentle roar?
Sole voice, when other voices sleep,
Dear under-song in clamor's hour. 30
1807.
FOOTNOTES:
[409:2] First published in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in 1828,
1829, and 1834. It is impossible to fix the date of composition, though
internal evidence points to July, 1807, when Coleridge revisited Stowey
after a long absence. The first stanza, a variant of the preceding
fragment, is introduced into a prose fancy, entitled 'Questions and
Answers in the Court of Love', of uncertain date, but perhaps written at
Malta in 1805 (vide Appendices of this edition). A first draft of
stanzas 1-4 (vide supra) is included in the collection of metrical
experiments and metrical schemes, modelled on German and Italian
originals, which seems to have been begun in 1801, with a view to a
projected 'Essay on Metre'. Stanzas 5, 6 are not contemporary with
stanzas 1-4, and, perhaps, date from 1814, 1815, when _Sibylline Leaves_
were being prepared for the press.
TO TWO SISTERS[410:1]
[MARY MORGAN AND CHARLOTTE BRENT]
A WANDERER'S FAREWELL
To know, to esteem, to love,--and then to part--
Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart;
Alas for some abiding-place of love,
O'er which my spirit, like the mother dove,
Might brood with warming wings!
O fair! O kind! 5
Sisters in blood, yet each with each intwined
More close by sisterhood of heart and mind!
Me disinherited in form and face
By nature, and mishap of outward grace;
Who, soul and body, through one guiltless fault 10
Waste daily with the poison of sad thought,
Me did you soothe, when solace hoped I none!
And as on unthaw'd ice the winter sun,
Though stern the frost, though brief the genial day,
You bless my heart with many a cheerful ray; 15
For gratitude suspends the heart's despair,
Reflecting bright though cold your image there.
Nay more! its music by some sweeter strain
Makes us live o'er our happiest hours again,
Hope re-appearing dim in memory's guise-- 20
Even thus did you call up before mine eyes
Two dear, dear Sisters, prized all price above,
Sisters, like you, with more than sisters' love;
_So_ like you _they_, and so in _you_ were seen
Their relative statures, tempers, looks, and mien, 25
That oft, dear ladies! you have been to me
At once a vision and reality.
Sight seem'd a sort of memory, and amaze
Mingled a trouble with affection's gaze.
Oft to my eager soul I whisper blame, 30
A Stranger bid it feel the Stranger's shame--
My eager soul, impatient of the name,
No strangeness owns, no Stranger's form descries:
The chidden heart spreads trembling on the eyes.
First-seen I gazed, as I would look you thro'! 35
My best-beloved regain'd their youth in you,--
And still I ask, though now familiar grown,
Are you for _their_ sakes dear, or for your own?
O doubly dear! may Quiet with you dwell!
In Grief I love you, yet I love you well! 40
Hope long is dead to me! an orphan's tear
Love wept despairing o'er his nurse's bier.
Yet still she flutters o'er her grave's green slope:
For Love's despair is but the ghost of Hope!
Sweet Sisters! were you placed around one hearth 45
With those, your other selves in shape and worth,
Far rather would I sit in solitude,
Fond recollections all my fond heart's food,
And dream of _you_, sweet Sisters! (ah! not mine!)
And only _dream_ of you (ah! dream and pine!) 50
Than boast the presence and partake the pride,
And shine in the eye, of all the world beside.
1807.
FOOTNOTES:
[410:1] First published in _The Courier_, December 10, 1807, with the
signature SIESTI. First collected in _P. and D. W._, 1877-80. The
following abbreviated and altered version was included in _P. W._, 1834,
1844, and 1852, with the heading 'On taking Leave of ---- 1817':--
To know, to esteem, to love--and then to part,
Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart!
O for some dear abiding-place of Love,
O'er which my spirit, like the mother dove
Might brood with warming wings!--O fair as kind,
Were but one sisterhood with you combined,
(Your very image they in shape and mind)
Far rather would I sit in solitude,
The forms of memory all my mental food,
And dream of you, sweet sisters, (ah, not mine!)
And only dream of you (ah dream and pine!)
Than have the presence, and partake the pride,
And shine in the eye of all the world beside!
PSYCHE[412:1]
The butterfly the ancient Grecians made
The soul's fair emblem, and its only name--[412:2]
But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade
Of mortal life!--For in this earthly frame
Ours is the reptile's lot, much toil, much blame, 5
Manifold motions making little speed,
And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed.
1808.
FOOTNOTES:
[412:1] First published with a prefatory note:--'The fact that in Greek
Psyche is the common name for the soul, and the butterfly, is thus
alluded to in the following stanzas from an unpublished poem of the
Author', in the _Biographia Literaria_, 1817, i. 82, n.: included (as
No. II of 'Three Scraps') in _Amulet_, 1833: _Lit. Rem._, 1836, i. 53.
First collected in 1844. In _Lit. Rem._ and 1844 the poem is dated 1808.
[412:2] Psyche means both Butterfly and Soul. _Amulet_, 1833.
In some instances the Symbolic and Onomastic are united as in Psyche =
Anima et papilio. _MS. S. T. C._ (Hence the word 'name' was italicised
in the MS.)
LINENOTES:
Title] The Butterfly Amulet, 1833, 1877-81, 1893.
[4] Of earthly life. For in this fleshly frame MS. S. T. C.: Of earthly
life! For, in this mortal frame Amulet, 1833, 1893.
A TOMBLESS EPITAPH[413:1]
'Tis true, Idoloclastes Satyrane!
(So call him, for so mingling blame with praise,
And smiles with anxious looks, his earliest friends,
Masking his birth-name, wont to character
His wild-wood fancy and impetuous zeal,) 5
'Tis true that, passionate for ancient truths,
And honouring with religious love the Great
Of elder times, he hated to excess,
With an unquiet and intolerant scorn,
The hollow Puppets of a hollow Age, 10
Ever idolatrous, and changing ever
Its worthless Idols! Learning, Power, and Time,
(Too much of all) thus wasting in vain war
Of fervid colloquy. Sickness, 'tis true,
Whole years of weary days, besieged him close, 15
Even to the gates and inlets of his life!
But it is true, no less, that strenuous, firm,
And with a natural gladness, he maintained
The citadel unconquered, and in joy
Was strong to follow the delightful Muse. 20
For not a hidden path, that to the shades
Of the beloved Parnassian forest leads,
Lurked undiscovered by him; not a rill
There issues from the fount of Hippocrene,
But he had traced it upward to its source, 25
Through open glade, dark glen, and secret dell,
Knew the gay wild flowers on its banks, and culled
Its med'cinable herbs. Yea, oft alone,
Piercing the long-neglected holy cave,
The haunt obscure of old Philosophy, 30
He bade with lifted torch its starry walls
Sparkle, as erst they sparkled to the flame
Of odorous lamps tended by Saint and Sage.
O framed for calmer times and nobler hearts!
O studious Poet, eloquent for truth! 35
Philosopher! contemning wealth and death,
Yet docile, childlike, full of Life and Love!
Here, rather than on monumental stone,
This record of thy worth thy Friend inscribes,
Thoughtful, with quiet tears upon his cheek. 40
? 1809.
FOOTNOTES:
[413:1] First published in _The Friend_, No. XIV, November 23, 1809.
There is no title or heading to the poem, which occupies the first page
of the number, but a footnote is appended:--'Imitated, though in the
movements rather than the thoughts, from the vii{th}, of _Gli Epitafi_
of Chiabrera:
Fu ver, che Ambrosio Salinero a torto
Si pose in pena d'odiose liti,' &c.
Included in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834. Sir Satyrane, 'A
Satyres son yborne in forrest wylde' (Spenser's _Faery Queene_, Bk. I,
C. vi, l. 21) rescues Una from the violence of Sarazin. Coleridge may
have regarded Satyrane as the anonymn of Luther. Idoloclast, as he
explains in the preface to 'Satyrane's Letters', is a 'breaker of
idols'.
LINENOTES:
[10] a] an Friend, 1809, S. L. 1828, 1829.
[16] inlets] outlets Friend, 1809.
[37] Life] light The Friend, 1809.
FOR A MARKET-CLOCK[414:1]
(IMPROMPTU)
What now, O Man! thou dost or mean'st to do
Will help to give thee peace, or make thee rue,
When hovering o'er the Dot this hand shall tell
The moment that secures thee Heaven or Hell!
1809.
FOOTNOTES:
[414:1] Sent in a letter to T. Poole, October 9, 1809, and transferred
to one of Coleridge's Notebooks with the heading 'Inscription proposed
on a Clock in a market place': included in 'Omniana' of 1809-16
(_Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 347) with the erroneous title 'Inscription
on a Clock in Cheapside'. First collected in 1893.
What now thou do'st, or art about to do,
Will help to give thee peace, or make thee rue;
When hov'ring o'er the line this hand will tell
The last dread moment--'twill be heaven or hell.
Read for the last two lines:--
When wav'ring o'er the dot this hand shall tell
The moment that secures thee Heaven or Hell.
_MS. Lit. Rem._
THE MADMAN AND THE LETHARGIST[414:2]
AN EXAMPLE
Quoth Dick to me, as once at College
We argued on the use of knowledge;--
'In old King Olim's reign, I've read,
There lay two patients in one bed.
The one in fat lethargic trance, 5
Lay wan and motionless as lead:
The other, (like the Folks in France),
Possess'd a different disposition--
In short, the plain truth to confess,
The man was madder than Mad Bess! 10
But both diseases, none disputed,
Were unmedicinably rooted;
Yet, so it chanc'd, by Heaven's permission,
Each prov'd the other's true physician.
'Fighting with a ghostly stare 15
Troops of Despots in the air,
Obstreperously Jacobinical,
The madman froth'd, and foam'd, and roar'd:
The other, snoring octaves cynical,
Like good John Bull, in posture clinical, 20
Seem'd living only when he snor'd.
The _Citizen_ enraged to see
This fat Insensibility,
Or, tir'd with solitary labour,
Determin'd to convert his neighbour; 25
So up he sprang and to 't he fell,
Like devil piping hot from hell,
With indefatigable fist
Belabr'ing the poor Lethargist;
Till his own limbs were stiff and sore, 30
And sweat-drops roll'd from every pore:--
Yet, still, with flying fingers fleet,
Duly accompanied by feet,
With some short intervals of biting,
He executes the self-same strain, 35
Till the Slumberer woke for pain,
And half-prepared himself for fighting--
That moment that his mad Colleague
Sunk down and slept thro' pure fatigue.
So both were cur'd--and this example 40
Gives demonstration full and ample--
That _Chance_ may bring a thing to bear,
Where _Art_ sits down in blank despair.'
'That's true enough, Dick,' answer'd I,
'But as for the _Example_, 'tis a lie.' 45
? 1809
FOOTNOTES:
[414:2] Now published for the first time from one of Coleridge's
Notebooks. The use of the party catchword 'Citizen' and the allusion to
'Folks in France' would suggest 1796-7 as a probable date, but the point
or interpretation of the 'Example' was certainly in Coleridge's mind
when he put together the first number of _The Friend_, published June 1,
1809:--'Though all men are in error, they are not all in the same error,
nor at the same time . . . each therefore may possibly heal the other
. . . even as two or more physicians, all diseased in their general
health, yet under the immediate action of the disease on different days,
may remove or alleviate the complaints of each other.'
THE VISIONARY HOPE[416:1]
Sad lot, to have no Hope! Though lowly kneeling
He fain would frame a prayer within his breast,
Would fain entreat for some sweet breath of healing,
That his sick body might have ease and rest;
He strove in vain! the dull sighs from his chest 5
Against his will the stifling load revealing,
Though Nature forced; though like some captive guest,
Some royal prisoner at his conqueror's feast,
An alien's restless mood but half concealing,
The sternness on his gentle brow confessed, 10
Sickness within and miserable feeling:
Though obscure pangs made curses of his dreams,
And dreaded sleep, each night repelled in vain,
Each night was scattered by its own loud screams:
Yet never could his heart command, though fain, 15
One deep full wish to be no more in pain.
That Hope, which was his inward bliss and boast,
Which waned and died, yet ever near him stood,
Though changed in nature, wander where he would--
For Love's Despair is but Hope's pining Ghost! 20
For this one hope he makes his hourly moan,
He wishes and can wish for this alone!
Pierced, as with light from Heaven, before its gleams
(So the love-stricken visionary deems)
Disease would vanish, like a summer shower, 25
Whose dews fling sunshine from the noon-tide bower!
Or let it stay! yet this one Hope should give
Such strength that he would bless his pains and live.
? 1810.
FOOTNOTES:
[416:1] First published in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in 1828,
1829, and 1834.
LINENOTES:
[22] can] _can_ S. L. 1828, 1829.
EPITAPH ON AN INFANT[417:1]
Its balmy lips the infant blest
Relaxing from its Mother's breast,
How sweet it heaves the happy sigh
Of innocent satiety!
And such my Infant's latest sigh! 5
Oh tell, rude stone! the passer by,
That here the pretty babe doth lie,
Death sang to sleep with Lullaby.
1811.
FOOTNOTES:
[417:1] First published, with the signature 'Aphilos,' in the _Courier_,
Wednesday, March 20, 1811: included in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, and in
1828, 1829, and 1834.
LINENOTES:
[1] balmy] milky Courier, 1811.
[5] Infant's] darling's Courier, 1811.
[6] Tell simple stone Courier, 1811.
[7] the] a Courier, 1811.
THE VIRGIN'S CRADLE-HYMN[417:2]
COPIED FROM A PRINT OF THE VIRGIN IN A ROMAN CATHOLIC VILLAGE IN GERMANY
Dormi, Jesu! Mater ridet
Quae tam dulcem somnum videt,
Dormi, Jesu! blandule!
Si non dormis, Mater plorat,
Inter fila cantans orat, 5
Blande, veni, somnule.
ENGLISH[417:3]
Sleep, sweet babe! my cares beguiling:
Mother sits beside thee smiling;
Sleep, my darling, tenderly!
If thou sleep not, mother mourneth, 10
Singing as her wheel she turneth:
Come, soft slumber, balmily!
1811.
FOOTNOTES:
[417:2] First published as from 'A Correspondent in Germany' in the
_Morning Post_, December 26, 1801.
[417:3] First published with the Latin in the _Courier_, August 30,
1811, with the following introduction:--'About thirteen years ago or
more, travelling through the middle parts of Germany I saw a little
print of the Virgin and Child in the small public house of a Catholic
Village, with the following beautiful Latin lines under it, which I
transcribed. They may be easily adapted to the air of the famous
Sicilian Hymn, _Adeste fideles, laeti triumphantes_, by the omission of
a few notes.' First collected in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in
1828, 1829, and 1834.
LINENOTES:
Title--In a Roman Catholic] In a Catholic S. L., 1828, 1829.
TO A LADY[418:1]
OFFENDED BY A SPORTIVE OBSERVATION THAT WOMEN HAVE NO SOULS
Nay, dearest Anna! why so grave?
I said, you had no soul, 'tis true!
For what you are, you cannot have:
'Tis I, that have one since I first had you!
? 1811.
FOOTNOTES:
[418:1] First published in _Omniana_ (1812), i. 238; 'as a playful
illustration of the distinction between _To_ have _and to_ be.' First
collected in 1828: included in 1829 and 1834.
LINENOTES:
_To a Lady, &c._--In line 3 'are', 'have', and in line 4 'have', 'you',
are italicized in all editions except 1834.
REASON FOR LOVE'S BLINDNESS[418:2]
I have heard of reasons manifold
Why Love must needs be blind,
But this the best of all I hold--
His eyes are in his mind.
What outward form and feature are 5
He guesseth but in part;
But that within is good and fair
He seeth with the heart.
? 1811.
FOOTNOTES:
[418:2] First published in 1828: included in 1829 and 1834.
LINENOTES:
Title] In 1828, 1829, 1834 these stanzas are printed without a title,
but are divided by a space from _Lines to a Lady_. The title appears
first in 1893.
THE SUICIDE'S ARGUMENT[419:1]
Ere the birth of my life, if I wished it or no,
No question was asked me--it could not be so!
If the life was the question, a thing sent to try,
And to live on be Yes; what can No be? to die.
NATURE'S ANSWER
Is't returned, as 'twas sent? Is't no worse for the wear? 5
Think first, what you are! Call to mind what you were!
I gave you innocence, I gave you hope,
Gave health, and genius, and an ample scope.
Return you me guilt, lethargy, despair?
Make out the invent'ry; inspect, compare! 10
Then die--if die you dare!
1811.
FOOTNOTES:
[419:1] First published in 1828: included in 1829 and 1884. In a
Notebook of (?) 1811 these lines are preceded by the following
couplet:--
Complained of, complaining, there shov'd and here shoving,
Every one blaming me, ne'er a one loving.
LINENOTES:
[4] Yes] YES 1828, 1829.
[6] are] ARE 1828, 1829. were] WERE 1828, 1829.
TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY[419:2]
AN ALLEGORY
On the wide level of a mountain's head,
(I knew not where, but 'twas some faery place)
Their pinions, ostrich-like, for sails out-spread,
Two lovely children run an endless race,
A sister and a brother!
This far outstripp'd the other;
Yet ever runs she with reverted face.
And looks and listens for the boy behind:
For he, alas! is blind!
O'er rough and smooth with even step he passed, 10
And knows not whether he be first or last.
? 1812.
FOOTNOTES:
[419:2] First published in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, in the preliminary
matter, p. v: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834. In the 'Preface' to
_Sibylline Leaves_, p. iii, an apology is offered for its insertion on
the plea that it was a 'school boy poem' added 'at the request of the
friends of my youth'. The title is explained as follows:--'By imaginary
Time, I meant the state of a school boy's mind when on his return to
school he projects his being in his day dreams, and lives in his next
holidays, six months hence; and this I contrasted with real Time.' In a
Notebook of (?) 1811 there is an attempt to analyse and illustrate the
'sense of Time', which appears to have been written before the lines as
published in _Sibylline Leaves_ took shape: 'How marked the contrast
between troubled manhood and joyously-active youth in the sense of time!
To the former, time like the sun in an empty sky is never seen to move,
but only to have _moved_. There, there it was, and now 'tis here, now
distant! yet all a blank between. To the latter it is as the full moon
in a fine breezy October night, driving on amid clouds of all shapes and
hues, and kindling shifting colours, like an ostrich in its speed, and
yet seems not to have moved at all. This I feel to be a just image of
time real and time as felt, in two different states of being. The title
of the poem therefore (for poem it ought to be) should be time real and
time felt (in the sense of time) in active youth, or activity with hope
and fullness of aim in any period, and in despondent, objectless
manhood--time objective and subjective.' _Anima Poetae_, 1895, pp.
241-2.
AN INVOCATION[420:1]
FROM _REMORSE_
[Act III, Scene i. ll. 69-82.]
Hear, sweet Spirit, hear the spell,
Lest a blacker charm compel!
So shall the midnight breezes swell
With thy deep long-lingering knell.
And at evening evermore, 5
In a chapel on the shore,
Shall the chaunter, sad and saintly,
Yellow tapers burning faintly,
Doleful masses chaunt for thee,
Miserere Domine! 10
Hush! the cadence dies away
On the quiet moonlight sea:
The boatmen rest their oars and say,
Miserere Domine!
1812.
FOOTNOTES:
[420:1] First published in _Remorse_, 1813. First collected, 1844.
LINENOTES:
_An Invocation_--7 chaunter] chaunters 1813, 1828, 1839, 1893.
[12] quiet] yellow 1813, 1828, 1829.
THE NIGHT-SCENE[421:1]
A DRAMATIC FRAGMENT
_Sandoval._ You loved the daughter of Don Manrique?
_Earl Henry._ Loved?
_Sand._ Did you not say you wooed her?
_Earl H._ Once I loved
Her whom I dared not woo!
_Sand._ And wooed, perchance,
One whom you loved not!
_Earl H._ Oh! I were most base,
Not loving Oropeza. True, I wooed her, 5
Hoping to heal a deeper wound; but she
Met my advances with impassioned pride,
That kindled love with love. And when her sire,
Who in his dream of hope already grasped
The golden circlet in his hand, rejected 10
My suit with insult, and in memory
Of ancient feuds poured curses on my head,
Her blessings overtook and baffled them!
But thou art stern, and with unkindly countenance
Art inly reasoning whilst thou listenest to me. 15
_Sand._ Anxiously, Henry! reasoning anxiously.
But Oropeza--
_Earl H._ Blessings gather round her!
Within this wood there winds a secret passage,
Beneath the walls, which opens out at length
Into the gloomiest covert of the garden.-- 20
The night ere my departure to the army,
She, nothing trembling, led me through that gloom,
And to that covert by a silent stream,
Which, with one star reflected near its marge,
Was the sole object visible around me. 25
No leaflet stirred; the air was almost sultry;
So deep, so dark, so close, the umbrage o'er us!
No leaflet stirred;--yet pleasure hung upon
The gloom and stillness of the balmy night-air.
A little further on an arbour stood, 30
Fragrant with flowering trees--I well remember
What an uncertain glimmer in the darkness
Their snow-white blossoms made--thither she led me,
To that sweet bower! Then Oropeza trembled--
I heard her heart beat--if 'twere not my own. 35
_Sand._ A rude and soaring note, my friend!
_Earl H._ Oh! no!
I have small memory of aught but pleasure.
The inquietudes of fear, like lesser streams
Still flowing, still were lost in those of love:
So love grew mightier from the fear, and Nature, 40
Fleeing from Pain, sheltered herself in Joy.
The stars above our heads were dim and steady,
Like eyes suffused with rapture. Life was in us:
We were all life, each atom of our frames
A living soul--I vowed to die for her: 45
With the faint voice of one who, having spoken,
Relapses into blessedness, I vowed it:
That solemn vow, a whisper scarcely heard,
A murmur breathed against a lady's ear.
Oh! there is joy above the name of pleasure. 50
Deep self-possession, an intense repose.
_Sand. (with a sarcastic smile)._ No other than as eastern sages
paint,
The God, who floats upon a Lotos leaf,
Dreams for a thousand ages; then awaking,
Creates a world, and smiling at the bubble, 55
Relapses into bliss.
_Earl H._ Ah! was that bliss
Feared as an alien, and too vast for man?
For suddenly, impatient of its silence,
Did Oropeza, starting, grasp my forehead.
I caught her arms; the veins were swelling on them. 60
Through the dark bower she sent a hollow voice;--
'Oh! what if all betray me? what if thou?'
I swore, and with an inward thought that seemed
The purpose and the substance of my being,
I swore to her, that were she red with guilt, 65
I would exchange my unblenched state with hers.--
Friend! by that winding passage, to that bower
I now will go--all objects there will teach me
Unwavering love, and singleness of heart.
Go, Sandoval! I am prepared to meet her-- 70
Say nothing of me--I myself will seek her--
Nay, leave me, friend! I cannot bear the torment
And keen inquiry of that scanning eye.--
[_Earl Henry retires into the wood._
_Sand. (alone)._ O Henry! always striv'st thou to be great
By thine own act--yet art thou never great 75
But by the inspiration of great passion.
The whirl-blast comes, the desert-sands rise up
And shape themselves; from Earth to Heaven they stand,
As though they were the pillars of a temple,
Built by Omnipotence in its own honour! 80
But the blast pauses, and their shaping spirit
Is fled: the mighty columns were but sand,
And lazy snakes trail o'er the level ruins!
1813.
FOOTNOTES:
[421:1] First published in its present state in _Sibylline Leaves_,
1817: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834. For an earlier draft, forming
part of an 'Historic Drama in Five Acts' (unfinished) entitled _The
Triumph of Loyalty_, 1801, vide Appendices of this edition. A prose
sketch without title or heading is contained in one of Coleridge's
earliest notebooks.
LINENOTES:
[14] unkindly] unkindling 1893.
[23] And to the covert by that silent stream S. L., corrected in
_Errata_, p. [xi].
[24] near] o'er S. L., corrected in _Errata_, p. [xi].
A HYMN[423:1]
My Maker! of thy power the trace
In every creature's form and face
The wond'ring soul surveys:
Thy wisdom, infinite above
Seraphic thought, a Father's love 5
As infinite displays!
From all that meets or eye or ear,
There falls a genial holy fear
Which, like the heavy dew of morn,
Refreshes while it bows the heart forlorn! 10
Great God! thy works how wondrous fair!
Yet sinful man didst thou declare
The whole Earth's voice and mind!
Lord, ev'n as Thou all-present art,
O may we still with heedful heart 15
Thy presence know and find!
Then, come what will, of weal or woe,
Joy's bosom-spring shall steady flow;
For though 'tis Heaven THYSELF to see,
Where but thy _Shadow_ falls, Grief cannot be!-- 20
1814.
FOOTNOTES:
[423:1] First published in _Poems_, 1852. The MS. was placed in the
hands of the Editors by J. W. Wilkins, Esq., of Trinity Hall, Cambridge.
'The accompanying autograph,' writes Mr. Wilkins, 'dated 1814, and
addressed to Mrs. Hood of Brunswick Square, was given not later than the
year 1817 to a relative of my own who was then residing at Clifton (and
was, at the time at which it passed into his hands, an attendant on Mr.
Coleridge's lectures, which were in course of delivery at that place),
either by the lady to whom it is addressed, or by some other friend of
Mr. Coleridge.' 1852, Notes, p. 385.
TO A LADY[424:1]
WITH FALCONER'S _SHIPWRECK_
Ah! not by Cam or Isis, famous streams,
In archéd groves, the youthful poet's choice;
Nor while half-listening, 'mid delicious dreams,
To harp and song from lady's hand and voice;
Not yet while gazing in sublimer mood 5
On cliff, or cataract, in Alpine dell;
Nor in dim cave with bladdery sea-weed strewed.
Framing wild fancies to the ocean's swell;
Our sea-bard sang this song! which still he sings,
And sings for thee, sweet friend! Hark, Pity, hark!
Now mounts, now totters on the tempest's wings, 11
Now groans, and shivers, the replunging bark!
'Cling to the shrouds!' In vain! The breakers roar--
Death shrieks! With two alone of all his clan
Forlorn the poet paced the Grecian shore, 15
No classic roamer, but a shipwrecked man!
Say then, what muse inspired these genial strains,
And lit his spirit to so bright a flame?
The elevating thought of suffered pains,
Which gentle hearts shall mourn; but chief, the name 20
Of gratitude! remembrances of friend,
Or absent or no more! shades of the Past,
Which Love makes substance! Hence to thee I send,
O dear as long as life and memory last!
I send with deep regards of heart and head, 25
Sweet maid, for friendship formed! this work to thee:
And thou, the while thou canst not choose but shed
A tear for Falconer, wilt remember me.
? 1814.
FOOTNOTES:
[424:1] First published in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in 1828,
1829, and 1834. A different or emended version headed 'Written in a
Blank Leaf of Faulkner's Shipwreck, presented by a friend to Miss K',
was published in _Felix Farley's Bristol Journal_ of February 21, 1818.
[See Note by G. E. Weare, Weston-super-Mare, January, 1905.]
LINENOTES:
Title] To a Lady With Falkner's 'Shipwreck' S. L.
[2] archéd] cloyst'ring F. F.
[3] 'mid] midst F. F.
[4] lady's] woman's F. F.
[5] sublimer] diviner F. F.
[6] On torrent falls, on woody mountain dell F. F.
[7] sea-weed] sea-weeds F. F.
[8] Attuning wild tales to the ocean's swell F. F.
[9] this] _this_ F. F.
[10] thee] _thee_ F. F.
[11] It mounts, it totters F. F.
[12] It groans, it quivers F. F.
[14] of] and F. F.
[15] Forlorn the] The toil-worn F. F.
[17-20]
Say then what power evoked such genial strains
And beckon'd godlike to the trembling Muse?
The thought not pleasureless of suffer'd pains
But _chiefly_ friendship's voice, her holy dues.
F. F.
[21] Demanding dear remembrances of friend F. F.
[22] Which love makes real! Thence F. F.
[24] life] love F. F.
[26] Sweet Maid for friendship framed this song to thee F. F.
[28] Falconer] FALKNER S. L.: Faulkner F. F. me] ME S. L., 1828, 1829.
HUMAN LIFE[425:1]
--ON THE DENIAL OF IMMORTALITY
If dead, we cease to be; if total gloom
Swallow up life's brief flash for aye, we fare
As summer-gusts, of sudden birth and doom,
Whose sound and motion not alone declare,
But are their whole of being! If the breath[425:2] 5
Be Life itself, and not its task and tent,
If even a soul like Milton's can know death;
O Man! thou vessel purposeless, unmeant,
Yet drone-hive strange of phantom purposes!
Surplus of Nature's dread activity, 10
Which, as she gazed on some nigh-finished vase,
Retreating slow, with meditative pause,
She formed with restless hands unconsciously.
Blank accident! nothing's anomaly!
If rootless thus, thus substanceless thy state, 15
Go, weigh thy dreams, and be thy hopes, thy fears,
The counter-weights!--Thy laughter and thy tears
Mean but themselves, each fittest to create
And to repay the other! Why rejoices
Thy heart with hollow joy for hollow good? 20
Why cowl thy face beneath the mourner's hood?
Why waste thy sighs, and thy lamenting voices,
Image of Image, Ghost of Ghostly Elf,
That such a thing as thou feel'st warm or cold?
Yet what and whence thy gain, if thou withhold 25
These costless shadows of thy shadowy self?
Be sad! be glad! be neither! seek, or shun!
Thou hast no reason why! Thou canst have none;
Thy being's being is contradiction.
? 1815.
FOOTNOTES:
[425:1] First published in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in 1828,
1829, and 1834.
[425:2] Halitus = anima animae tabernaculum _MS. Note_ (? _S. T. C._)
LINENOTES:
[5] are] _are_ S. L., 1828, 1829. whole] _whole_ S. L., 1828, 1829.
[19] the] each 1887-80, 1893.
SONG[426:1]
FROM _ZAPOLYA_
A Sunny shaft did I behold,
From sky to earth it slanted:
And poised therein a bird so bold--
Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted!
He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he trolled 5
Within that shaft of sunny mist;
His eyes of fire, his beak of gold,
All else of amethyst!
And thus he sang: 'Adieu! adieu!
Love's dreams prove seldom true. 10
The blossoms they make no delay:
The sparkling dew-drops will not stay.
Sweet month of May,
We must away;
Far, far away! 15
To-day! to-day!'
1815.
FOOTNOTES:
[426:1] First published in _Zapolya_, 1817 (Act II, Scene i, ll. 65-80).
First collected in 1844. Two MSS. are extant, one in the possession of
Mr. John Murray (_MS. M._), and a second in the possession of the Editor
(_MS. S. T. C._). For a prose version of Glycine's Song, probably a
translation from the German, vide Appendices of this edition.
LINENOTES:
Title] Sung by Glycine in _Zapolya_ 1893: Glycine's Song MS. M.
[1] A pillar grey did I behold MS. S. T. C.
[4] A faery Bird that chanted MS. S. T. C.
[6] sunny] shiny MS. S. T. C.
[11, 12] om. MS S. T. C., MS. M.
HUNTING SONG[427:1]
FROM _ZAPOLYA_
Up, up! ye dames, and lasses gay!
To the meadows trip away.
'Tis you must tend the flocks this morn,
And scare the small birds from the corn.
Not a soul at home may stay: 5
For the shepherds must go
With lance and bow
To hunt the wolf in the woods to-day.
Leave the hearth and leave the house
To the cricket and the mouse: 10
Find grannam out a sunny seat.
With babe and lambkin at her feet.
Not a soul at home may stay:
For the shepherds must go
With lance and bow 15
To hunt the wolf in the woods to-day.
1815.
FOOTNOTES:
[427:1] First published in _Zapolya_ (Act IV, Scene ii, ll. 56-71).
First collected, 1844.
LINENOTES:
Title] Choral Song 1893.
FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY[427:2]
FROM THE ITALIAN OF GUARINI
FAITH
Let those whose low delights to Earth are given
Chaunt forth their earthly Loves! but we
Must make an holier minstrelsy,
And, heavenly-born, will sing the Things of Heaven.
CHARITY
But who for us the listening Heart shall gain? 5
Inaudible as of the sphere
Our music dies upon the ear,
Enchanted with the mortal Syren's strain.
HOPE
Yet let our choral songs abound!
Th' inspiring Power, its living Source, 10
May flow with them and give them force,
If, elsewhere all unheard, in Heaven they sound.
ALL
Aid thou our voice, Great Spirit! thou whose flame
Kindled the Songster sweet of Israel,
Who made so high to swell 15
Beyond a mortal strain thy glorious Name.
CHARITY AND FAITH
Though rapt to Heaven, our mission and our care
Is still to sojourn on the Earth,
To shape, to soothe, Man's second Birth,
And re-ascend to Heaven, Heaven's prodigal Heir! 20
CHARITY
What is Man's soul of Love deprived?
HOPE. FAITH
It like a Harp untunéd is,
That sounds, indeed, but sounds amiss.
CHARITY. HOPE
From holy Love all good gifts are derived.
FAITH
But 'tis time that every nation 25
Should hear how loftily we sing.
FAITH. HOPE. CHARITY
See, O World, see thy salvation!
Let the Heavens with praises ring.
Who would have a Throne above,
Let him hope, believe and love; 30
And whoso loves no earthly song,
But does for heavenly music long,
Faith, Hope, and Charity for him,
Shall sing like wingéd Cherubim.
1815.
FOOTNOTES:
[427:2] From a hitherto unpublished MS. For the original _Dialogo: Fide,
Speranza, Fide_, included in the 'Madrigali . . .' del Signor Cavalier
Battista Guarini, 1663, vide Appendices of this edition. The translation
in Coleridge's handwriting is preceded by another version transcribed
and, possibly, composed by Hartley Coleridge.
TO NATURE[429:1]
It may indeed be phantasy, when I
Essay to draw from all created things
Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that closely clings;
And trace in leaves and flowers that round me lie
Lessons of love and earnest piety. 5
So let it be; and if the wide world rings
In mock of this belief, it brings
Nor fear, nor grief, nor vain perplexity.
So will I build my altar in the fields,
And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be, 10
And the sweet fragrance that the wild flower yields
Shall be the incense I will yield to Thee,
Thee only God! and thou shalt not despise
Even me, the priest of this poor sacrifice.
? 1820.
FOOTNOTES:
[429:1] First published in _Letters, Conversations and Recollections_ by
S. T. Coleridge, 1836, i. 144. First collected in _Poems_, 1863,
Appendix, p. 391.
LIMBO[429:2]
* * * * *
The sole true Something--This! In Limbo's Den
It frightens Ghosts, as here Ghosts frighten men.
Thence cross'd unseiz'd--and shall some fated hour
Be pulveris'd by Demogorgon's power,
And given as poison to annihilate souls-- 5
Even now it shrinks them--they shrink in as Moles
(Nature's mute monks, live mandrakes of the ground)
Creep back from Light--then listen for its sound;--
See but to dread, and dread they know not why--
The natural alien of their negative eye. 10
'Tis a strange place, this Limbo!--not a Place,
Yet name it so;--where Time and weary Space
Fettered from flight, with night-mare sense of fleeing,
Strive for their last crepuscular half-being;--
Lank Space, and scytheless Time with branny hands 15
Barren and soundless as the measuring sands,
Not mark'd by flit of Shades,--unmeaning they
As moonlight on the dial of the day!
But that is lovely--looks like Human Time,--
An Old Man with a steady look sublime, 20
That stops his earthly task to watch the skies;
But he is blind--a Statue hath such eyes;--
Yet having moonward turn'd his face by chance,
Gazes the orb with moon-like countenance,
With scant white hairs, with foretop bald and high, 25
He gazes still,--his eyeless face all eye;--
As 'twere an organ full of silent sight,
His whole face seemeth to rejoice in light!
Lip touching lip, all moveless, bust and limb--
He seems to gaze at that which seems to gaze on him! 30
No such sweet sights doth Limbo den immure,
Wall'd round, and made a spirit-jail secure,
By the mere horror of blank Naught-at-all,
Whose circumambience doth these ghosts enthral.
A lurid thought is growthless, dull Privation, 35
Yet that is but a Purgatory curse;
Hell knows a fear far worse,
A fear--a future state;--'tis positive Negation!
1817.
FOOTNOTES:
[429:2] First published, in its present shape, from an original MS. in
1893 (inscribed in a notebook). Lines 6-10 ('they shrink . . . negative
eye') were first printed in _The Friend_ (1818, iii. 215), and included
as a separate fragment with the title 'Moles' in _P. W._, 1834, i. 259.
Lines 11-38 were first printed with the title 'Limbo' in _P. W._, 1834,
i. 272-3. The lines as quoted in _The Friend_ were directed against 'the
partisans of a crass and sensual materialism, the advocates of the
_Nihil nisi ab extra_'. The following variants, now first printed, are
from a second MS. (_MS. S. T. C._) in the possession of Miss Edith
Coleridge. In the notebook _Limbo_ is followed by the lines entitled _Ne
Plus Ultra_, vide _post_, p. 431.
LINENOTES:
Title] Another Fragment, but in a very different style, from a Dream of
Purgatory, alias Limbus MS. S. T. C. [_Note._--In this MS. _Phantom_,
'All Look and Likeness,' &c. precedes _Limbo_.]
[Between 2-3]
For skimming in the wake it mock'd the care
Of the old Boat-God for his farthing fare;
Tho' Irus' Ghost itself he ne'er frown'd blacker on
The skin and skin-pent Druggist cross'd the Acheron,
Styx, and with Periphlegeton Cocytus,--
(The very names, methinks, might frighten us)
Unchang'd it cross'd--_and shall some fated hour_
MS. Notebook.
[Coleridge marks these lines as 'a specimen of the Sublime dashed to
pieces by cutting too close with the fiery Four-in-Hand round the corner
of Nonsense.']
[6] They, like moles Friend, 1818.
[8] Shrink from the light, then listen for a sound Friend, 1818.
[12] so] such MS. S. T. C.
[16] the] his MS. S. T. C.
[17] Mark'd but by Flit MS. S. T. C.
[30] at] on MS. S. T. C.
[31 foll.]
In one sole Outlet yawns the Phantom Wall,
And through this grim road to [a] worser thrall
Oft homeward scouring from a sick Child's dream
Old Mother Brownrigg shoots upon a scream;
And turning back her Face with hideous Leer,
Leaves Sentry there _Intolerable Fear_!
A horrid thought is growthless dull Negation:
Yet that is but a Purgatory Curse,
SHE knows a fear far worse
Flee, lest thou hear its Name! Flee, rash Imagination!
* * * * *
_S. T. Coleridge,
1st Oct. 1827, Grove, Highgate._
_NE PLUS ULTRA_[431:1]
Sole Positive of Night!
Antipathist of Light!
Fate's only essence! primal scorpion rod--
The one permitted opposite of God!--
Condenséd blackness and abysmal storm 5
Compacted to one sceptre
Arms the Grasp enorm--
The Intercepter--
The Substance that still casts the shadow Death!--
The Dragon foul and fell-- 10
The unrevealable,
And hidden one, whose breath
Gives wind and fuel to the fires of Hell!
Ah! sole despair
Of both th' eternities in Heaven! 15
Sole interdict of all-bedewing prayer,
The all-compassionate!
Save to the Lampads Seven
Reveal'd to none of all th' Angelic State,
Save to the Lampads Seven, 20
That watch the throne of Heaven!
? 1826.
FOOTNOTES:
[431:1] First published in 1834. The MS., which is inscribed in a
notebook, is immediately preceded by that of the first draft of _Limbo_
(_ante_, p. 429). The so-called 'Ne Plus Ultra' may have been intended
to illustrate a similar paradox--the 'positivity of negation'. No date
can be assigned to either of these metaphysical conceits, but there can
be little doubt that they were 'written in later life'.
THE KNIGHT'S TOMB[432:1]
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn?
Where may the grave of that good man be?--
By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn,
Under the twigs of a young birch tree!
The oak that in summer was sweet to hear, 5
And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year,
And whistled and roared in the winter alone,
Is gone,--and the birch in its stead is grown.--
The Knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;-- 10
His soul is with the saints, I trust.
? 1817.
FOOTNOTES:
[432:1] First published in _P. W._, 1834. Gillman (_Life_, p. 276) says
that the lines were composed 'as an experiment for a metre', and
repeated by the author to 'a mutual friend', who 'spoke of his visit to
Highgate' and repeated them to Scott on the following day. The last
three lines, 'somewhat altered', are quoted in _Ivanhoe_, chapter viii,
and again in _Castle Dangerous_, chapter ix. They run thus:--
The knights are dust,
And their good swords are rust;--
Their souls are with the saints, we trust.
Gillman says that the _Ivanhoe_ quotation convinced Coleridge that Scott
was the author of the Waverley Novels. In the Appendix to the 'Notes' to
_Castle Dangerous_ (1834), which was edited and partly drawn up by
Lockhart, the poem is quoted in full, with a prefatory note ('The author
has somewhat altered part of a beautiful unpublished fragment of
Coleridge').
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur Orellan,--
Where may the grave of that good knight be?
By the marge of a brook, on the slope of Helvellyn,
Under the boughs of a young birch-tree.
The Oak that in summer was pleasant to hear,
That rustled in autumn all wither'd and sear,
That whistled and groan'd thro' the winter alone,
He hath gone, and a birch in his place is grown.
The knight's bones are dust,
His good sword is rust;
His spirit is with the saints, we trust.
This version must have been transcribed from a MS. in Lockhart's
possession, and represents a first draft of the lines as published in
1834. These lines are, no doubt, an 'experiment for a metre'. The upward
movement (ll. 1-7) is dactylic: the fall (ll. 8-11) is almost, if not
altogether, spondaic. The whole forms a complete stanza, or metrical
scheme, which may be compared with ll. 264-78 of the First Part of
_Christabel_. Mrs. H. N. Coleridge, who must have been familiar with
Gillman's story, dates the _Knight's Tomb_ 1802.
ON DONNE'S POETRY[433:1]
With Donne, whose muse on dromedary trots,
Wreathe iron pokers into true-love knots;
Rhyme's sturdy cripple, fancy's maze and clue,
Wit's forge and fire-blast, meaning's press and screw.
? 1818
FOOTNOTES:
[433:1] First published in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 148, from 'notes
written by Mr. Coleridge in a volume of "Chalmers's Poets"'. Line 2
finds a place in Hartley Coleridge's couplets on Donne which are written
on the fly-leaves and covers of his copy of Anderson's _British Poets_.
In the original MS. it is enclosed in quotation marks. First collected
in _P. W._, 1885, ii. 409.
ISRAEL'S LAMENT[433:2]
'A Hebrew Dirge, chaunted in the Great Synagogue, St. James's Place,
Aldgate, on the day of the Funeral of her Royal Highness the Princess
Charlotte. By Hyman Hurwitz, Master of the Hebrew Academy, Highgate:
with a Translation in English Verse, by S. T. Coleridge, Esq., 1817.'
Mourn, Israel! Sons of Israel, mourn!
Give utterance to the inward throe!
As wails, of her first love forlorn,
The Virgin clad in robes of woe.
Mourn the young Mother, snatch'd away 5
From Light and Life's ascending Sun!
Mourn for the Babe, Death's voiceless prey,
Earn'd by long pangs and lost ere won.
Mourn the bright Rose that bloom'd and went,
Ere half disclosed its vernal hue! 10
Mourn the green Bud, so rudely rent,
It brake the stem on which it grew.
Mourn for the universal woe
With solemn dirge and fault'ring tongue:
For England's Lady is laid low, 15
So dear, so lovely, and so young!
The blossoms on her Tree of Life
Shone with the dews of recent bliss:
Transplanted in that deadly strife,
She plucks its fruits in Paradise. 20
Mourn for the widow'd Lord in chief,
Who wails and will not solaced be!
Mourn for the childless Father's grief,
The wedded Lover's agony!
Mourn for the Prince, who rose at morn 25
To seek and bless the firstling bud
Of his own Rose, and found the thorn,
Its point bedew'd with tears of blood.
O press again that murmuring string!
Again bewail that princely Sire! 30
A destined Queen, a future King,
He mourns on one funereal pyre.
Mourn for Britannia's hopes decay'd,
Her daughters wail their dear defence;
Their fair example, prostrate laid, 35
Chaste Love and fervid Innocence.
While Grief in song shall seek repose,
We will take up a Mourning yearly:
To wail the blow that crush'd the Rose,
So dearly priz'd and lov'd so dearly. 40
Long as the fount of Song o'erflows
Will I the yearly dirge renew:
Mourn for the firstling of the Rose,
That snapt the stem on which it grew.
The proud shall pass, forgot; the chill, 45
Damp, trickling Vault their only mourner!
Not so the regal Rose, that still
Clung to the breast which first had worn her!
O thou, who mark'st the Mourner's path
To sad Jeshurun's Sons attend! 50
Amid the Light'nings of thy Wrath
The showers of Consolation send!
Jehovah frowns! the Islands bow!
And Prince and People kiss the Rod!--
Their dread chastising Judge wert thou! 55
Be thou their Comforter, O God!
1817.
FOOTNOTES:
[433:2] First published, together with the Hebrew, as an octavo pamphlet
(pp. 13) in 1817. An abbreviated version was included in _Literary
Remains_, 1836, i. 57-8 and in the Appendix to _Poems_, 1863. The
_Lament_ as a whole was first collected in _P. and D. W._, 1877-80, ii.
282-5.
LINENOTES:
_Title_] Israel's Lament on the death of the Princess Charlotte of
Wales. From the Hebrew of Hyman Hurwitz L. R.
[19] Transplanted] Translated L. R., 1863.
[21-4] om. L. R, 1863.
[29-32] om. L. R., 1863.
[49-56] om. L. R., 1863.
[49] Mourner's] Mourners' L. R., 1863.
FANCY IN NUBIBUS[435:1]
OR THE POET IN THE CLOUDS
O! it is pleasant, with a heart at ease,
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To make the shifting clouds be what you please,
Or let the easily persuaded eyes
Own each quaint likeness issuing from the mould 5
Of a friend's fancy; or with head bent low
And cheek aslant see rivers flow of gold
'Twixt crimson banks; and then, a traveller, go
From mount to mount through Cloudland, gorgeous land!
Or list'ning to the tide, with closéd sight, 10
Be that blind bard, who on the Chian strand
By those deep sounds possessed with inward light,
Beheld the Iliad and the Odyssee
Rise to the swelling of the voiceful sea.
1817.
FOOTNOTES:
[435:1] First published in _Felix Farley's Bristol Journal_ for February
7, 1818: and afterwards in _Blackwood's Magazine_ for November, 1819.
First collected in 1828: included in 1829 and 1834. A MS. in the
possession of Major Butterworth of Carlisle is signed 'S. T. Coleridge,
Little Hampton, Oct. 1818'. In a letter to Coleridge dated Jan. 10,
1820, Lamb asks, 'Who put your marine sonnet [i. e. A Sonnet written on
the Sea Coast, vide _Title_] . . . in _Blackwood_?' F. Freiligrath in
his Introduction to the Tauchnitz edition says that the last five lines
are borrowed from Stolberg's _An das Meer_; vide Appendices of this
edition.
LINENOTES:
Title] Fancy, &c. A Sonnet Composed by the Seaside, October 1817. F. F.:
Fancy in Nubibus. A Sonnet, composed on the Sea Coast 1819.
[4] let] bid 1819.
[5] Own] Owe F. F. 1818. quaint] strange 1819.
[6] head] heart MS.: head bow'd low 1819.
[9] through] o'er 1819.
THE TEARS OF A GRATEFUL PEOPLE[436:1]
A Hebrew Dirge and Hymn, chaunted in the Great Synagogue. St. James' pl.
Aldgate, on the Day of the Funeral of King George III. of blessed
memory. By Hyman Hurwitz of Highgate, Translated by a Friend.
_Dirge_
Oppress'd, confused, with grief and pain,
And inly shrinking from the blow,
In vain I seek the dirgeful strain,
The wonted words refuse to flow.
A fear in every face I find, 5
Each voice is that of one who grieves;
And all my Soul, to grief resigned,
Reflects the sorrow it receives.
The Day-Star of our glory sets!
Our King has breathed his latest breath! 10
Each heart its wonted pulse forgets,
As if it own'd the pow'r of death.
Our Crown, our heart's Desire is fled!
Britannia's glory moults its wing!
Let us with ashes on our head, 15
Raise up a mourning for our King.
Lo! of his beams the Day-Star shorn,[436:2]
Sad gleams the Moon through cloudy veil!
The Stars are dim! Our Nobles mourn;
The Matrons weep, their Children wail. 20
No age records a King so just,
His virtues numerous as his days;
The Lord Jehovah was his trust,
And truth with mercy ruled his ways.
His Love was bounded by no Clime; 25
Each diverse Race, each distant Clan
He govern'd by this truth sublime,
'God only knows the heart--not man.'
His word appall'd the sons of pride,
Iniquity far wing'd her way; 30
Deceit and fraud were scatter'd wide,
And truth resum'd her sacred sway.
He sooth'd the wretched, and the prey
From impious tyranny he tore;
He stay'd th' Usurper's iron sway, 35
And bade the Spoiler waste no more.
Thou too, Jeshurun's Daughter! thou,
Th' oppress'd of nations and the scorn!
Didst hail on his benignant brow
A safety dawning like the morn. 40
The scoff of each unfeeling mind,
Thy doom was hard, and keen thy grief;
Beneath his throne, peace thou didst find,
And blest the hand that gave relief.
E'en when a fatal cloud o'erspread 45
The moonlight splendour of his sway,
Yet still the light remain'd, and shed
Mild radiance on the traveller's way.
But he is gone--the Just! the Good!
Nor could a Nation's pray'r delay 50
The heavenly meed, that long had stood
His portion in the realms of day.
Beyond the mighty Isle's extent
The mightier Nation mourns her Chief:
Him Judah's Daughter shall lament, 55
In tears of fervour, love and grief.
Britannia mourns in silent grief;
Her heart a prey to inward woe.
In vain she strives to find relief,
Her pang so great, so great the blow. 60
Britannia! Sister! woe is me!
Full fain would I console thy woe.
But, ah! how shall I comfort thee,
Who need the balm I would bestow?
United then let us repair, 65
As round our common Parent's grave;
And pouring out our heart in prayer,
Our heav'nly Father's mercy crave.
Until Jehovah from his throne
Shall heed his suffering people's fears; 70
Shall turn to song the Mourner's groan,
To smiles of joy the Nation's tears.
Praise to the Lord! Loud praises sing!
And bless Jehovah's righteous hand!
Again he bids a George, our King, 75
Dispense his blessings to the Land.
_Hymn_
O thron'd in Heav'n! Sole King of kings,
Jehovah! hear thy Children's prayers and sighs!
Thou Binder of the broken heart! with wings
Of healing on thy people rise! 80
Thy mercies, Lord, are sweet;
And Peace and Mercy meet,
Before thy Judgment seat:
Lord, hear us! we entreat!
When angry clouds thy throne surround, 85
E'en from the cloud thou bid'st thy mercy shine:
And ere thy righteous vengeance strikes the wound,
Thy grace prepares the balm divine!
Thy mercies, Lord, are sweet;
etc.
The Parent tree thy hand did spare-- 90
It fell not till the ripen'd fruit was won:
Beneath its shade the Scion flourish'd fair,
And for the Sire thou gav'st the Son.
etc.
This thy own Vine, which thou didst rear,
And train up for us from the royal root, 95
Protect, O Lord! and to the Nations near
Long let it shelter yield, and fruit,
etc.
Lord, comfort thou the royal line:
Let Peace and Joy watch round us hand and hand.
Our Nobles visit with thy grace divine, 100
And banish sorrow from the land!
Thy mercies, Lord, are sweet;
And Peace and Mercy meet
Before thy Judgment seat;
Lord, hear us! we entreat! 105
1820.
FOOTNOTES:
[436:1] First published with the Hebrew in pamphlet form in 1820. First
collected in 1893.
[436:2] The author, in the spirit of Hebrew Poetry, here represents the
Crown, the Peerage, and the Commonalty, by the figurative expression of
the Sun, Moon, and Stars.
YOUTH AND AGE[439:1]
Verse, a breeze mid blossoms straying,
Where Hope clung feeding, like a bee--
Both were mine! Life went a-maying
With Nature, Hope, and Poesy,
When I was young! 5
When I was young?--Ah, woful When!
Ah! for the change 'twixt Now and Then!
This breathing house not built with hands,
This body that does me grievous wrong,
O'er aery cliffs and glittering sands, 10
How lightly then it flashed along:--
Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore,
On winding lakes and rivers wide,
That ask no aid of sail or oar,
That fear no spite of wind or tide! 15
Nought cared this body for wind or weather
When Youth and I lived in't together.
Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like;
Friendship is a sheltering tree;
O! the joys, that came down shower-like. 20
Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty,
Ere I was old!
Ere I was old? Ah woful Ere,
Which tells me, Youth's no longer here!
O Youth! for years so many and sweet, 25
'Tis known, that Thou and I were one,
I'll think it but a fond conceit--
It cannot be that Thou art gone!
Thy vesper-bell hath not yet toll'd:--
And thou wert aye a masker bold! 30
What strange disguise hast now put on,
To make believe, that thou art gone?
I see these locks in silvery slips,
This drooping gait, this altered size:
But Spring-tide blossoms on thy lips. 35
And tears take sunshine from thine eyes!
Life is but thought: so think I will
That Youth and I are house-mates still.
Dew-drops are the gems of morning,
But the tears of mournful eve! 40
Where no hope is, life's a warning
That only serves to make us grieve,
When we are old:
That only serves to make us grieve
With oft and tedious taking-leave, 45
Like some poor nigh-related guest,
That may not rudely be dismist;
Yet hath outstay'd his welcome while,
And tells the jest without the smile.
1823-1832.
FOOTNOTES:
[439:1] First published in its present shape in 1834. Lines 1-38, with
the heading 'Youth and Age', were first published in the _Literary
Souvenir_, 1828, and also in the _Bijou_, 1828: included in 1828, 1829.
Lines 39-49 were first published in _Blackwood's Magazine_ for June
1832, entitled 'An Old Man's Sigh: a Sonnet', as 'an out-slough or
hypertrophic stanza of a certain poem called "Youth and Age".' Of lines
1-43 three MSS. are extant. (1) A fair copy (_MS. 1_) presented to
Derwent Coleridge, and now in the Editor's possession. In _MS. 1_ the
poem is divided into three stanzas: (i) lines 1-17; (ii) lines 18-38;
(iii) lines 39-43. The watermark of this MS. on a quarto sheet of Bath
Post letter-paper is 1822. (2) A rough draft, in a notebook dated Sept.
10, 1823; and (3) a corrected draft of forty-three lines (vide for _MSS.
2_, _3_ Appendices of this edition). A MS. version of _An Old Man's
Sigh_, dated 'Grove, Highgate, April 1832', was contributed to Miss
Rotha Quillinan's Album; and another version numbering only eight lines
was inscribed in an album in 1828 when Coleridge was on his Rhine tour
with Wordsworth. After line 42 this version continues:--
As we creep feebly down life's slope,
Yet courteous dame, accept this truth,
Hope leaves us not, but we leave hope,
And quench the inward light of youth.
T. Colley Grattan's _Beaten Paths_,
1862, ii. 139.
There can be little doubt that lines 1-43 were composed in 1823, and
that the last six lines of the text which form part of _An Old Man's
Sigh_ were composed, as an afterthought, in 1832.
LINENOTES:
[1] Verse, a] Verse is a _with the alternative_ ? Vērse ă breeze MS. 1.
[2] clung] clings MS. 1, Bijou.
[6] When I] _When_ I 1828, 1829.
[8] This house of clay MS. 1, Bijou.
[10] O'er hill and dale and sounding sands MS. 1, Bijou.
[11] then] _then_ 1828, 1829.
[12] skiffs] boats MS. 1, Bijou.
[20] came] come Bijou.
[21] Of Beauty, Truth, and Liberty MS. 1, Bijou.
[23] Ere I] _Ere_ I 1828, 1829. woful] mournful Literary Souvenir.
[25] many] merry Bijou.
[27] fond] false MS. 1, Bijou.
[32] make believe] _make believe_ 1828, 1829.
[34] drooping] dragging MS. 1, Bijou.
[42-4]
That only serves to make me grieve
Now I am old!
Now I am old,--ah woful Now
MS. 1.
[44-5]
In our old age
Whose bruised wings quarrel with the bars of the still
narrowing cage.
Inserted in 1832.
[49] Two lines were added in 1832:--
O might Life cease! and Selfless Mind,
Whose total Being is Act, alone remain behind.
THE REPROOF AND REPLY[441:1]
Or, The Flower-Thief's Apology, for a robbery committed in Mr. and Mrs.
----'s garden, on Sunday morning, 25th of May, 1823, between the hours
of eleven and twelve.
"Fie, Mr. Coleridge!--and can this be you?
Break two commandments? and in church-time too!
Have you not heard, or have you heard in vain,
The birth-and-parentage-recording strain?--
Confessions shrill, that out-shrill'd mack'rel drown 5
Fresh from the drop--the youth not yet cut down--
Letter to sweet-heart--the last dying speech--
And didn't all this begin in Sabbath-breach?
You, that knew better! In broad open day,
Steal in, steal out, and steal our flowers away? 10
What could possess you? Ah! sweet youth. I fear
The chap with horns and tail was at your ear!"
Such sounds of late, accusing fancy brought
From fair Chisholm to the Poet's thought.
Now hear the meek Parnassian youth's reply:-- 15
A bow--a pleading look--a downcast eye,--
And then:
"Fair dame! a visionary wight,
Hard by your hill-side mansion sparkling white,
His thoughts all hovering round the Muses' home,
Long hath it been your Poet's wont to roam, 20
And many a morn, on his becharméd sense
So rich a stream of music issued thence,
He deem'd himself, as it flowed warbling on,
Beside the vocal fount of Helicon!
But when, as if to settle the concern, 25
A Nymph too he beheld, in many a turn,
Guiding the sweet rill from its fontal urn,--
Say, can you blame?--No! none that saw and heard
Could blame a bard, that he thus inly stirr'd;
A muse beholding in each fervent trait, 30
Took Mary H---- for Polly Hymnia!
Or haply as there stood beside the maid
One loftier form in sable stole array'd,
If with regretful thought he hail'd in _thee_
Chisholm, his long-lost friend, Mol Pomene! 35
But most of _you_, soft warblings, I complain!
'Twas ye that from the bee-hive of my brain
Did lure the fancies forth, a freakish rout,
And witch'd the air with dreams turn'd inside out.
"Thus all conspir'd--each power of eye and ear, 40
And this gay month, th' enchantress of the year,
To cheat poor me (no conjuror, God wot!)
And Chisholm's self accomplice in the plot.
Can you then wonder if I went astray?
Not bards alone, nor lovers mad as they;-- 45
All Nature _day-dreams_ in the month of May.
And if I pluck'd 'each flower that _sweetest_ blows,'--
Who walks in sleep, needs follow must his _nose_.
"Thus, long accustom'd on the twy-fork'd hill,[442:1]
To pluck both flower and floweret at my will; 50
The garden's maze, like No-man's-land, I tread,
Nor common law, nor statute in my head;
For my own proper smell, sight, fancy, feeling,
With autocratic hand at once repealing
Five Acts of Parliament 'gainst private stealing! 55
But yet from Chisholm who despairs of grace?
There's no spring-gun or man-trap in _that_ face!
Let Moses then look black, and Aaron blue,
That look as if they had little else to do:
For Chisholm speaks, 'Poor youth! he's but a waif! 60
The spoons all right? the hen and chickens safe?
Well, well, he shall not forfeit our regards--
The Eighth Commandment was not made for Bards!'"[443:1]