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Tempt to repeat the wrong! And now, its |
REFLECTIONS strings Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes ON HAVING LEFT A PLACE OF RETIREMENT. Over delicious surges sink and rise, Such a soft floating witchery of sound | Low was our pretty cot: our tallest rose As twilight-Elfins make, when they at eve Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could Voyage on gentle gales from Fairy-Land, I
hear Where Melodies round honey - dropping At silent noon, and eve, and early morn,
The sea's faint murmur. In the open air Footless and wild, like birds of Paradise, Our myrtles blossom'd; and across the porch Nor pause, nor perch, hovering on untamed Thick jasmins twined: the little landscape wing!
round 0! the one life, within us and abroad, Was green and woody, and refresh'd the eye. Which meets all motion and becomes its It was a spot which you might aptly call
| The VALLEY of SECLUSION! Once I saw A light in sound, a sound-like power in light, (Hallowing his Sabbath-day by quietness) Rhythm in all thought and joyance every- À wealthy son of commerce saunter by,
Bristowa's citizen: methought, it calm’d Methinks, it shonld have been impossible His thirst of idle gold, and made him muse Not to love all things in a world so fillid, With wiser feelings: for he paus'd, and Where the breeze warbles and the mute
look'd still air
With a pleased sadness, and gazed all around, Is music slumbering on its instrument. Then eyed our cottage, and gazed round
And sigh'd, and said, it was a blessed place. And thus, my love! as on the midway And we were blessed. Oft with patient ear
Long-listening to the viewless sky-lark's note of yonder hill I stretch my limbs at noon, (Viewlers, or haply for a moment seen Whilst thro'my half-closed eye-lids I behold Gleaming on sunny wing) in whisper'd tones The sunbeams dance, like diamonds, on the l've said to my beloved : Such, sweet girl!
| The inobtrusive song of Happiness, And tranquil muse upon tranquillity; Unearthly minstrelsy! then only heard Full many a thought uncallid and undetain'd, When the soul seeks to hear; when all is And many idle fitting phantasies,
hush'd, Traverse my indolent and passive brain, And the heart listens! But the time when first As wild and various as the random gales From that low dell, steep up the stony mount That swell and flutter on this subject lute! I climb'd with perilous toil and reach'd
Oh! what a goodly scene! Here the bleak And what if all of animated nature
mount, Be bat organic harps diversly fram’d, The bare bleak mountain speckled thin with That tremble into thought, as o'er them
Gray clouds, that shadowing spot the sunny Plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze, At once the Soul of each, and God of All? And river, now with bushy rocks o'erbrow'd,
Now winding bright and full, with naked
banks ; But thy more serious eye a mild reproof and seats and lawns, the abbey, and the wood, Darts, o beloved woman! nor such thoughts And cots, and hamlets, and faint city-spire: Dim and unhallow'd dost thou not reject. The channel there, the islands and white sails, And biddest me walk humbly with my God. Dim coasts, and cloud-like hills, and shoreMeek daughter in the family of Christ!
less oceanWell hast thou said and holily disprais'd It seem'd like Omnipresence! God, meThese sbapings of the unregenerate mind,
thought, Bubbles that glitter as they rise and break Had built him there a Temple: the whole On vain Philosophy's aye-babbling spring.
world For never goiltless may I speak of him, Seem'd imag'd in its vast circumference. Th' Incomprehensible! save when with awe No wish profan'd my overwhelmed heart. I praise him, and with faith that inly feels; Blest hour! It was a luxury,-to be! Who with his saving mercies healed me, A sinful and most miserable man, Wilder'd and dark, and gave me to possess' Ah! quiet dell! dear cot! and mount Peace, and this cot, and thee, heart-honor'd
I was constrain'd to quit you. Was it right,
That I should dream away th'entrusted hours Me from the spot where first I sprung to On rose-leaf beds, pampering the coward
Too soon transplanted, ere my soul had fix'd With feelings all too delicate for use? Its first domestic loves; and hence through Sweet is the tear that from some Howard's
Chasing chance-started friendships. A brief Drops on the cheek of One he lifts from
Some have preserv'd me from life's pelting And He, that works me good with unmov'd
But, like a tree with leaves of feeble stem, Does it but half: he chills me while he aids, If the clouds lasted, and a sudden breeze My benefactor, not my brother-man! Ruffled the boughs, they on my head at once Yet even this, this cold beneficence
Dropt the collected shower; and some most Praise, praise it, oh my soul! oft as thou
False and fair foliag'd as the Manchineel, The sluggard Pity's vision-weaving tribe, Have tempted me to slumber in their shade Who sigh for wretchedness, yet shun the E'en 'mid the storm; then breathing subtlest wretched,
damps, Nursing in some delicious solitude
Mixt their own venom with the rain from Their slothful loves and dainty sympathies !
heaven, I therefore go, and join head, heart, and hand, That I woke poison'd! But, all praise to Him · Active and firm, to fight the bloodless fight Who gives us all things, more have yielded me Of science, freedom, and the truth in Christ. Permanent shelter; and beside one Friend,
Beneath th' impervious covert of one Oak,
I've raised a lowly shed, and know the names Yet oft when after honorable toil
Of Husband and of Father; nor unhearing Rests the tir'd mind, and waking loves to Of that divine and nightly-whispering voice,
Which from my childhood to maturer years My spirit shall revisit thee, dear cot! Spake to me of predestinated wreaths, Thy jasmin and thy window-peeping rose, Bright with no fading colours! Yet at times And myrtles fearless of the mild sea-air. My soul is sad, that I have roam'd through And I shall sigh fond wishes-sweet abode !
life Ah! - had none greater! And that all had Still most a stranger, most with naked heart
At mine own home and birth-place: chiefly It might be so--but the time is not yet.
then, Speed it, O Father! Let thy kingdom come! When I remember thee, ny earliest Friend!
Thee, who didst watch my boyhood and
my youth; Didst trace my wanderings with a father's
eye; TO THE REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE
| And boding evil, yet still hoping good,
Rebuk'd each fault, and over all my woes WITH SOME POEMS.
Sorrow'd in silence! He who counts alone
The beatings of the solitary heart,
That Being knows, how I have lov'd thee
ever, A BLESSED lot hath he, who having past Lov'd as a brother, as a son rever'd thee! His youth and early manhood in the stirl Oh! 'tis to me an ever new delight And turmoil of the world, retreats at length, To talk of thee and thine; or when the blast With cares that move, not agitate the heart, of the shrill winter, rattling our rude sash, To the same dwelling where his father Endears the cleanly hearth and social bowl;
Or when, as now, on some delicious eve, And haply views his tott'ring little ones We in our sweet requester'd orchard-plot Embrace those aged knees and climb that lap, Sit on the tree crook'd earth - ward; whoso On which first kneeling his own Infancy
old boughs, Lisp'd its brief prayer. Such, oh my earliest That hang above us in an arborous roof,
Stirr'd by the faint gale of departing May, Thy lot, and such thy brothers too enjoy. Send their loose blossoms slanting o'er our At distance did ye climb Life's upland-road,
heads! Yet cheer'd and cheering: now fraternal Love Hath drawn you to one centre. Be your days Holy, and blest and blessing inay ye live! Nor dost not thou sometimes recall these
When with the joy of hope thou gav'st thine To me th’ Eternal Wisdom hath dispens'd
ear A different fortune and more different mind- To my wild firstling-lays. Since then my soup
Hath sounded deeper notes, such as beseem | Its worthless Idols! Learning, Power, and Or that sad wisdom, folly leaves behind,
Time, Or such as, tun'd to these tumultuous times, (Too much of all) thus wasting in vain war Cope with the tempest's swell! - These Of fervid colloquy. Sickness, 'tis true,
. various strains, Whole years of weary days, besieged him Which I have fram'd in many a various
Even to the gates and inlets of his life! Accept, my Brother! and (for some per- But it is true, no less, that strenuous, firm,
And with a natural gladness, he maintained Will strike discordant on thy milder mind) The Citadel unconquer'd, and in joy If aught of error or intemperate truth Was strong to follow the delightful Muse. Should meet thine car, think thou that For not a hidden path, that to the shades
Of the belov'd Parnassian forest leads, Will calm it down, and let thy love for- Lurk’d undiscover'd by him; not a rill
There issues from the fount of Hippocrene,
Its med'cinable herbs. Yea, oft alone,
Piercing the long-neglected holy cave, FOR A FOUNTAIN ON A HEATH.
The haunt obscure of old Philosophy,
He bade with lifted torch its starry walls This Sycamore, oft musical with Becs, Sparkle, as erst they sparkled to the flame Such tents the Patriarchs lov'd! O long Of od’rons lamps tended by Saint and Sage.
10 fram'd for calmer times and nobler hearts ! May all its aged boughs o'er-canopy 10 studious Poet, eloquent for truth! The small round basin, which this jutting Philosopher! contemning wealth and death,
Yet docile, childlike, full of Life and Love! Keeps pure from falling leaves! Long may Here, rather than on monumental stone,
This record of thy worth thy Friend inscribes, Quietly as a sleeping infant's breath, Thoughtful, with quiet tears upon his cheek. Send up cold waters to the traveller With soft and even pulse! Nor ever cease Yon tiny cone of sand its soundless dance, Which at the bottom, like a Fairy's Page, Imm
8C, | THIS LIME-TREE-BOWER MY As merry and no taller, dances still, Nor wrinkles the smooth surface of the
PRISON. fount. Here twilight is and coolness: here is moss,
In the June of 1797 some long - expected Friends
paid a visit to the Author's Cottage ; and on the A soft seat, and a deep and ample shade. morning of their arrival he met with an acciThou mayst toil far and find no second tree; dent, which disabled him from walking during Drink, Pilgrim, here! Here rest! and if thy
the whole time of their stay. One evening,
when they had left him for a few hours, he heart
composed the following lines in the gardenBe innocent, here too shalt thou refresh bower. Thy spirit, list'ning to some gentle sound, Or passing gale, or hum of murmuring bees ! WELL, they are gone, and here must I
remain, This Lime-Tree-Bower my Prison! I have
Beauties and feelings,such as would have been A TOMBLESS EPITAPH. Most sweet to my remembrance, even when 'Tis true, Idoloclastes Satyrane!
Had dimmed mine eyes to blindness! They, (So call him, for so mingling blame with
Friends, whom I never more may meet again, And smiles with anxious looks, his earliest On springy heath, along the hill-top-edge,
Wander in gladness, and wind down, perMasking his birth-name, wont to character
chance, His wild-wood fancy and impetuous zeal,) To that still roaring dell, of which I told; "Tis true that, passionate for ancient truths The roaring dell, o'erwooded, narrow, deep, And honoring with religious love the Great And only speckled by the mid-day Sun; Of elder times, he hated to excess,
Where its slim trunk the Ash from rock to With an unquiet and intolerant scorn, The hollow puppets of an hollow age, Flings arching like a bridge ;-that branchEver idolatrous, and changing ever
Unsunn'd and damp, whose few poor yellow That we may lift the soul, and contemplate
With lively joy the joys we cannot share. Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still, My gentle-hearted Charles! when the last Fann'd by the waterfall! and there my friends
rook Behold the dark green file of long lank weeds, Beat its straight path along the dusky air That all at once (a most fantastic sight!) Homewards, I blest it! deeming, its black Still nod and drip beneath the dripping edge
wing Of the blue clay-stone. Now, my friends (Now a dim speck, now vanishing in light)
Had cross'd the mighty Orb's dilated glory, Beneath the wide wide heaven-and view While thou stoodst gazing; or when all was
again The many-steepled track magnificent Flew creeking o'er thy head, and had a Of hilly fields and meadows, and the sea,
charm With some fair bark, perhaps, whose sails For thee, my gentle - hearted Charles, to light up
whom The slip of smooth clear blue betwixt two No sound is dissonant which tells of life. Of purple shadow! Yes! they wander on In gladness all; but thou,methinks, most glad, My gentle-hearted Charles! for thou hast pined
TO A FRIEND And hunger'd after Nature, many a year, WHO HAD DECLARED HIS INTENTION OF WRITING In the great City pent, winning thy way
NO MORE POETRY. With sad yet patient soul, through evil and
DEAR Charles! whilst yet thou wert a And strange calamity! Ah! slowly sink
i babe, I ween Behind the western ridge, thou glorious Sun! That Genius plunged thee in that wizardSbine in the slant beams of the sinking orb
fount Ye purple heath-flowers! richlier burn, ye Hight Castalie; and (sureties of thy faith)
| That Pity and Simplicity stood by, Live in the yellow light, ye distant groves! And promised for thee, that thou shouldst And kindle, thou blue Ocean! So my Friend
renounce Struck with deep joy may stand, as I have | The world's low cares and lying vanities,
Stedfast and rooted in the heavenly Muse, Silent with swimming sense; yea,gazing round And wash'd and sanctified to Poesy. On the wide landscape, gaze till all doth seem Yes—thou wert plunged, but with forgetful Less gross than bodily: and of such hues
hand As veil the almighty Spirit, when he makes Held, as by Thetis erst her warrior Son : Spirits perceive his presence. A delight And with those recreant unbaptized Heels Comes sudden on my heart, and I am glad Thou’rt flying from thy bounden Minis As I myself were there! Nor in this bower,
teriesThis little lime-tree-bower, have I not mark'd So sore it seems and barthensome a task Much that has sooth'd me. Pale beneath To weave unwithering flowers ! But take the blaze
thou heed : Hung the transparent foliage; and I watch'd For thou art vulnerable, wild-eyed Boy, Some broad and sunny leaf, and lov'd to see And I have arrows mystically dipt, The shadow of the leaf and stem above such as may stop thy speed. Is thy Burne Dappling its sunshine! And that walnut-tree
dead? Was richly ting'd, and a deep radiance lay And shall he die unwept, and sink to Earth Full on the ancient ivy, which usurps Without the meed of one melodion, tear ? Those fronting elms, and now, with blackest Thy Burns, and Nature's own beloved Bard.
Who to the Illustrious of his native Land Makes their dark branches gleam a lighter So properly did look for Patronage.
Ghost of Maecenas ! hide thy blushing fare! Through the late twilight: and though now They snatch'd him from the sickle and the the bat
plough Wheels silent by, and not a swallow twitters, To gauge Ale-Firkins.-Oh!for shame return! Yet still the solitary humble bee
On a bleak rock, midway the Aonian mount. Sings in the bean-flower! Henceforth I shall There stands a lone and melancholy tree. - know
Whose aged branches to the midnight-blast That Nature ne'er deserts the wise and pure, Make solemn music: pluck its darkest boosh, No plot so narrow, be but Nature there, Ere yet the unwholesome night-dew be CXNo waste so vacant, but may well employ
haled, Each faculty of sense, and keep the heart And weeping wreath it ronnd thy Poet's tomb Awake to love and beauty! and sometimes Then in the outskirts, where pollutions grov 'Tis well to be bereft of promised good, Pick the rank henbane and the dusky flower
of night - shade, or its red and tempting From the dread watch-tower of man's abfruit.
solute Self, These with stopped nostril and glove- / With light unwaning on her eyes, to look
guarded hand Far on-herself a glory to behold, Knit in nice intertexture, so to twine The Angel of the vision! Then (last strain) The illustrious brow of Scotch Nobility. Of duty, chosen laws controlling choice,
Action and joy !--An Orphic song indeed,
Ere yet that last strain dying awed the air,
With stedfast eye I view'd thee in the choir
Of ever-enduring men. The truly great COMPOSED ON THE NIGHT AFTER HIS RECITA- Have all one age, and from one visible space TION OF A POEM ON THE GROWTH OF AN IN Shed influence! They, both in power and act, DIVIDUAL MIND.
Are permanent, and time is not with them,
Save as it worketh for them, they in it. FRIEND of the Wise! and Teacher of the Nor less a sacred roll, than those of old, Good!
And to be placed, as they, with gradual fame, Into my heart have I received that Lay Among the archives of mankind, thy work More than historic, that prophetic Lay Makes audible a linked lay of truth, Wherein (high theme by thee first sung Of truth profound a sweet continuous lay,
Not learnt, but native, her own natural of the foundations and the building up
notes ! Of the Human Spirit thou hast dared to tell Ah! as I listen'd with a heart forlorn What may be told, to th' understanding mind The pulses of my being beat anew : Revealable; and what within the mind And even as life returns upon the drown'a, By vital breathings, like the secret soul Life's joy rekindling rous'd a throng of Of vernal growth, oft quickens in the heart
paineThoughts all too deep for words -Theme Keen pangs of love, awakening as a babe
bard as high! Turbulent, with an outcry in the heart; Of smiles spontaneous, and mysterious fears And Fears self-will'd, that shunn'd the eye (The first-born they of Reason and twin
of Hope; birth)
And Hope that scarce would know itself Of tides obedient to external force,
from Fear; And currents self-determined, as might seem, Sense of past youth, and manhood come in Or by some inner Power; of moments awful,
vain, Now in thy inner life, and now abroad, And genius given, and knowledge won in When power stream'd from thee, and thy |
vain; soul received And all which I had call'd in wood-walks The light reflected, as a light bestow'd
wild, of fancies fair, and milder hours of youth, And all which patient toil had rear'd, and all, Hyblean murmurs of poetic thought Commune with thee had open'd out - but Industrious in its joy, in vales and glens
flowers Native or outland, lakes and famous hills! Strew'd on my corse, and borne upon my Or on the lonely high-road, when the stars
bier, Were rising; or by secret mountain-streams, In the same coffin, for the self-same grave! The guides and the companions of thy way!
That way no more! and ill beseems it me, or more than fancy, of the social sense Who came a welcomer in herald's guise, Distending wide, and man belov'd as man, Singing of glory, and futurity, Where France in all her towns lay vibrating To wander back on such unhealthful road, Even as a bark becalm'd beneath the burst Plucking the poisons of self-harm! And ill Of heaven's immediate thunder, when no Such intertwine beseems triumphal wreaths
Strew'd before thy advancing! Nor do thou, Is visible, or shadow on the main.
Sage Bard ! impair the memory of that hour For thou wert there, thine own brows gar- Of thy communion with my nobler mind
By pity or grief, already felt too long! Amid the tremor of a realm aglow,
Nor let my words import more blame than Amid a mighty nation jubilant,
needs. When from the general heart of humankind The tumult rose and ceas'd : for peace is nigh Hope sprang forth like a full-born Deity! Where wisdom's voice has found a listening Of that dear Hope afflicted and struck
Amid the howl of more than wintry storms, So symmond homeward, thenceforth calm The Halcyon hears the voice of vernal Hourg
Already on the wing !-Eve following eve,