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Ye living flowers that skirt she eternal frost !
My native land! Yo wild goats sporting round the eagle's nest!
Filld with the thought of thee this heart was proud, Ye eagles, play-mates of the mountain-storm!
Yea, mine eye swam with tears: that all the view
From sovran Brocken, woods and woody hills,
Floated away, like a departing dream,
Feeble and dim! Stranger, these impulses
Blame thou not lightly; nor will I profane,
With hasty judgment or injurious doubt,
That man's sublimer spirit, who can feel
That God is everywhere! the God who framed
Mankind to be one mighty Family,
Himself our Father, and the World our Home.
ON OBSERVING BLOSSOM ON THE FIRST
OF FEBRUARY, 1796.
Sweet Flower! that peeping from thy russet stem
Unfoldest timidly (for in strange sort
This dark, frieze-coated, hoarse, teeth-chattering monika
Hath borrowd Zeplıyr's voice, and gazed upon thec
With blue voluptuous eye), alas, poor Flower!
These are but flatteries of the faithless year.
Perchauce, escaped its unknown polar cave,
Flower that musi perish! shall I liken thee
To some sweet girl of too too rapid growth,
Nipp'd by Consumption 'mid untimely charms?
Or to Bristowa's Bard,' the wondrous boy!
An Amaranth, which carth scarce seem'd to nun,
Till Disappointment came, and pelting wrong
Peat it to earth? or with indignant grief
Shall I compare thee to poor Poland's Hope,
Bright flower of llope kill'd in the opening bud ?
Farewell, sweet blossom! better fate be thine,
Weaving in moral strains, I've stolen one hour
From anxious Self, Life's cruel Task-Master!
And the warm wooings of this sunny day
Tremble along my frame and harmonize
The attemper'd organ, that even saddest thoughts
Play'd deftly on a soft-toned instrument.
THE EOLIAN HARP.
COMPOSED AT CLEVEDON, SOMERSETSHIRE.
My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclined
Thus on minc arm, most soothing sweet it is
To sit beside our cot, our col o'ergrown
With white-tlower'd Jasmin, and the broad-leaved Myrile,
(Meet emblems they of Jonocence and Love!) Of our adored Country! O thou Queen,
And watch the clouds, that late were rich with light, Thou delegated Deity of Earth,
Slow saddening round, and mark the star of eve
Serenely brilliant (such should wisdom be)
Shine opposite! How exquisite the scents
Snatch'd frorn yon bean-field! and the world so hush'd !
The stilly murmur of the distant Sea 1 The highest mountain in the Hartz, and indeed in North liere | Tells us of Silence.
When I have gazed
SOUTHEY's Hymn to the Penates.
And that simplest Lute,
le voice! ke sounds!
It pours such sweet upbraiding, as must needs
green and woody, and refresh'd the eye. Tempt to repeat the wrong! And now, its strings It was a spot which you might aptly call Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes
The Valley of Seclusion! Once I saw Over delicious surges sink and rise,
(Hallowing his Sabbath-day by quietness) Such a soft floating witchery of sound
A wealthy son of commerce saunter by, As twilight Elfins make, when they at eve
Bristowa's citizen: methought, it calm d Voyage on gentle gales from Fairy-Land,
His thirst of idle gold, and made him muse Where Melodies round honey-dropping flowers, With wiser feelings : for he paused, and look'd Footless and wild, like birds of Paradise,
With a pleased sadness, and gazed all around, Nor pause, nor perch, hovering on untamed wing! Then eyed our cottage, and gazed round again, O the one life within us and abroad,
And sigh’d, and said, it was a blessed place. Which meets all motion and becomes its soul,
And we were bless'd. Oft with patient ear A light in sound, a sound-like power in light,
Long-listening to the viewless sky-lark's note Rhythm in all thought, and joyance every where-- (Viewless or haply for a moment seen Methinks, it should have been impossible
Gleaming on sunny wings), in whisper'd tones Not to love all things in a world so fill'd;
I've said to my beloved, « Such, sweet girl! Where the breeze warbles, and the mule still air
The inobtrusive song of Happiness, Is Music slumbering on her instrument.
Unearthly minstrelsy! then only heard
When the soul seeks to hear; when all is hush'd, And thus, my love! as on the midway slope
And the Heart listens !»
But the time, when first The sunbeams dance, like diamonds, on the main,
From that low dell, steep up the stony Mount And tranquil muse upon tranquillity;
I climb'd with perilous toil and reaci'd the top, Full many a thought uncalld and undetain'd,
Oh! what a goodly scene! Here the bleak Mount, And many idle fitting phantasies,
The bare bleak Mountain speckled uliin with sheep; Traverse my indolent and passive brain,
Grey clouds, that shadowing spot the sunny fields; As wild and various as the random gales
And River, now with bushy rocks o'erbrow'd, That swell and flutter on this subject lute!
Now winding bright and full, with naked banks;
And Seats, and Lawns, the Abbey and the Wood, And what if all of animated nature
Aud Cois, and Hamlets, and fiint City-spire; Be but organic harps diversely framed,
The Channel there, the Islands and white Sails, That tremble into thoughi, as o'er them sweeps,
Dim Coasts, and cloud-like Hills, and shoreless OceanPlastic and vast, one intellectual breeze,
It seem'd like Omnipresence! God, methonghi, At once the Soul of each, and God of All?
Uad built him there a Temple: the whole World
Seem'd imaged in its vast circumference, But thy more serious eye a mild reproof
No wish profaned my overwhelmed heart.
Blest hour! It was a luxury,-lo be!
Ah! quiet dell; dear cot, and mount sublime! Meek daughter in the family of Christ!
I was constraind to quit you. Was it right, Well hast thou said and holily dispraised
While my unnumber'd brethren toil'd and bled, These shapings of the unregenerate mind;
That I should dream away the entrusted hours Bubbles that glitter as they rise and break
On rose-leaf beds, pampering the coward heart On vain Philosophy's aye-babbling spring.
With feelings all too delicate for use? For never guiltless may I speak of him,
Sweet is the tear that from some Howard's eye The Incomprehensible! save when with awe
Drops on the cheek of One he lifts from Earth : I praise him, and with Faith that inly feels;
And ile that works me good with unmoved face, Who with his saving mercics healed me,
Does it but half: he chills me while he aids, A sinful and most miserable Man,
My Benefactor, not my Brother Man! Wilder'd and dark, and gave me to
Yet even this, this cold beneficence
possess Peace, and this Cor, and thee, heart-honour's Maid! Praisc, praise it, O my Soul! oft as thou scann'st
The Sluggard Pity's vision-weaving tribe!
Nursing in some delicious solitude
I therefore go, and join head, heart, and hand,
Active and firm, to fight the bloodless fight
Of Science, Freedom, and the Truth in Christ.
Low was our pretty Cot: our tallest rose
Yet oft, when after honourable toil
Ah!-had none greater! And that all had such!
TO THE REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE OF
OTTERY ST MARY, DEVON.
Loved as a brother, as a son revered thee!
WITH SOME POEMS.
Notas in fratres aními paterni.
Hor. Carm, lib. i. 2.
Nor dost not thou sometimes recall those hours, When with the joy of hope thou gavest thine ear To my wild firstling-lays. Since then my song Hath sounded deeper notes, such as beseem Or that sad wisdom folly leaves behind, Or such as, tuned to these tumultuous times, Cope with tlie tempest's swell!
A blessed lot hath he, who having pass'd
These various strains, Which I have framed in many a various mood, Accept, my Brother! and (for some perchance Will strike discordant on thy milder mind) If aught of Error or in temperate Truth Should meet thine ear, think thou that riper age Will calm it down, and let thy love forgive it!
To me th' Eternal Wisdom hath dispensed A different fortune and more different mind Me from the spot where first I sprang to light Too soon transplanted, ere my soul had fix'd Its first domestic loves; and hence through life Chasing chance-started Friendships. A brief while Some have preserved me from Life's pelting ills ; But, like a tree with leaves of feeble stem, If the clouds lasted, and a sudden breeze Ruffled the boughs, they on my head at once Dropp'd the collected shower; and some most false, False and fair foliaged as the Manchineel, Have tempted me to slumber in their shade E'en 'mid the storm; then breathing subtlest damps, Mix'd their own venom with the rain from Heaven, That I woke poison'd! But, all praise to Him Who gives us all things, more have yielded me Permanent shelter; and beside one Friend, Beneath th' impervious covert of one Oak, I've raised a lowly shed, and know the names Of llusband and of Father; nor unhearing of ihat divine and nighuy-whispering Voice, Which from my childhood to maturer years Spake to me of predestinated wreaths, Bright with no fading colours !
INSCRIPTION FOR A FOUNTAIN ON A HEATH.
Yet at times My soul is sad, that I have roam'd through life Still most a stranger, most with naked heart At mine own home and birth-place: chiefly then, When I remember thee, my earliest Friend! Thee, who didst watch my boyhood and my youth; Didst trace my wanderings with a father's eye; And boding evil, yet still hoping good, Rebuked each fault, and over all my woes Sorrow'd in silence! He who counts alone The beatings of the solitary heart, That Being knows, how I have loved thee ever,
A TOMBLESS EPITAPH. 'Tis true,
Idoloclastes Satyrane! (So call him, for so mingling blame with praise, And smiles with anxious looks, bis earliest friends, Masking his birth-name, wont to character His wild-wood fancy and impetuous zeal) "T is 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, 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, 't is true,
The slip of smooth clear blue betwixt two isles
In gladness all; but thou, methinks, most glad,
My gentle-hearted Charles! for thou hast pined And with a natural gladness, he maintaind
And hunger'd after Nature, many a year, The citadel unconquer'd, and in joy
In the great city pent, winning thy way Was strong to follow the delightful Muse.
With sad yet patient soul, through evil and pain For not a hidden Path, that to the Shades
And strange calamity! Ah! slowly sink Of the beloved Parnassian forest leads,
Beliind the western ridge, thou glorious Sun! Lurk'd undiscover’d by him; not a rill
Shine in the slant beams of the sinking orb, There issues from the fount of Hippocrene,
Ye purple beach-flowers! richlier burn, ye clouds! But he had traced it upward to its source,
Live in the yellow light, ye distant groves! Through open glade, dark glen, and secret dell,
And kindle, thou blue Ocean! So my Friend, knew the
gay wild flowers on its banks, and cull'd Struck with deep joy, may stand, as I have stood, Jts med cinable herbs. Yea, oft alone,
Silent with swimming sense; yea, gazing round Piercing the long-neglected holy cave,
On the wide landscape, gaze till all doth seem The haunt obscure of old Philosopliy,
Less gross than hodily; and of such hues He bade with lifted torch its starry walls
As veil the Almighty Spirit, when yet he makes Sparkle as erst they sparkled to the flame
Spirits perceive his
presence. Of odorous lamps tended by Saint and Sage. O framed for calıner times aud nobler liearts!
A delight O studious Poet, eloquent for truth!
Comes sudden on my heart, and I am glad Philosopher! contemning wealth and death,
As I myself were there! Nor in this bower, Yet docile, childlike, full of life and love!
This little lime-tree bower, have I not mark'd
Much that has soothed me. Pale beneath the blaze Here, rather than on monumental stone, This record of thy worth thy Friend inscribes,
Dung the transparent foliage; and I watch'd
Some broad and sunny leaf, and loved to see
Dappling its sunshine! And that Walnut-tree
Was richly tinged, and a deep radiance lay
with blackest mass, In the June of 1997, some long-expected Friends paid a visit to
Makes their dark branches gleam a lighter luc Auibor's Cottage ; and on the morning of their arrival, he met with an acident, which disabled him from walking durin; the Through the late twilight: and though now the Bat whole time of their stay. One Evening, wben they had left him Wheels silent by, and not a Swallow twitters, for a few hours, be composed the following lines in the Garden
Yet still the solitary humble Cee Bower.
Sings in the bean-flower! Henceforth I shall know
That Nature ne'er deserts the wise and pure : Well, they are gone, and here must I remain,
No plot so narrow, be but Nature there, This Limc-tree bower my prison! I have lost
No waste so vacant, but may well employ Beauties and feelings, such as would have been
Each faculty of sense, and keep the heart Most sweet lo my remembrance, even when age llad dimm'd mine eyes to blindness! They, meanwhile, Awake to Love and Beauty! and sometimes
"T is well to be bereft of promised good, Friends, whom I never more may meet again, On springy heath, along the bill-top edge,
That we may lift the soul, and contemplate Wander in gladness, and wind down, perchance,
With lively joy the joys we cannot share, To that still roaring dell, of which I told :
My gentle-hearted Charles ! when the last Rook The roaring dell, o'erwooded, narrow, deep,
Beat its straight path along the dusky air
Homewards, I blest it! deeming its black wing And only speckled by the mid-day sun;
(Now a dim speck, now vanishing in light) Where its slim trunk the Ash from rock to rock
Had cross'd the mighty Orb's dilated glory,
While thou stood'st gazing; or when all was still,
Flew creaking' o'er thy head, and had a charm
For thee, my gentle-hearted Charles, to whom
No sound is dissonant which tells of Life.
TO A FRIEND
WHO HAD DECLARED HIS INTENTION OF WRITING NO
DEAR Charles! whilst
thou wert a babe, I ween Of billy fields and meadows, and the sca,
Thai Genius plunged thee in that wizard fount With some fair bark, perhaps, wliose sails light up
Some months after I had written this line, it gave me pleasuro The Asplenium Scolopendrium, called in some countries the to observe that Bartram had observed the same circumstance of the Adder's Tongue, in otbers ibe Hart's Tongue; but Withering gives Savanna Crane. - When these Birds move their wings in flight, the Adder's Tongue as the trivial name of the Ophioglossuin only. ibeir strokes are slow, moderate and regular; and even when at a
Hight Castalic : and (suretics of thy faith)
And currents self-determined, as might scem,
Or by some inner Power; of moments awful,
When Power stream'd from thee, and thy soul received Stedfast and rooted in the heavenly Muse,
The light reflected, as a light bestow'd--
Of Fancies fair, and milder hours of youth,
Industrious in its joy, in Vales and Glens
Native or outland, Lakes and famous Hills!
Were rising; or by secret Mountain-streams,
Of more than Fancy, of the Social Sense
Where France in all her towns iay vibrating
Like some becalmned bark beneath the burst
Of licaven'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,
When from the general lieart of human kind
Hope sprang forth like a full-born Deity!
--Of that dear Hope afflicted and struck down,
So summond homeward, thenceforth calm and sure,
From the dread watch-lower of man's absolute Self,
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,
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 sted fast eye I view'd thee in the choir
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,
Nor less a sacred roll, than those of old,
And to be placed, as they, with gradual fame
Among the archives of mankind, thy work
Makes audible a linked lay of Truth,
Of Truth profound a sweet continuous lay,
Ah! as I listend with a heart forlorn,
The pulses of my being beat anew :
And even as life returns upon the drown'd,
Life's joy rekindling roused a throng of pains-
Keen Pangs of Love, awakening as a babe
Turbulent, with an outcry in the heart;
And Fears self-will’d, that shunn'd the eye of Hope;
And Hope that scarce would know itself from Fear;
Theme hard as high! Sense of past Youth, and Manhood come in vain, Of smiles spontaneous, and mysterious fears
And Genius given, and knowledge won in vain; (The first-born they of Reason and twin-birth), And all which I had call'd in wood-walks wild, Of tides obedient to external force,
And all which patient toil had reard, and all,
Commune with thee had opend out-but flowers
Vide Pind. Olymp. iii, 1. 156.
That way no more! and ill beseems it me,
Who came a welcomer in herald's guise,