The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Vol 1 and 2

Chapter LXXXVI: Act IV: Scene I (2)

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My father confessor is strict and holy,
_Mi Fili_, still he cries, _peccare noli_.
And yet how oft I find the pious man
At Annette's door, the lovely courtesan!
Her soul's deformity the good man wins
And not her charms! he comes to hear her sins!
Good father! I would fain not do thee wrong;
But ah! I fear that they who oft and long
Stand gazing at the sun, to count each spot,
_Must_ sometimes find the sun itself too hot.

First published in _Morning Post_, Oct. 11, 1802.

When Surface talks of other people's worth
He has the weakest memory on earth!
And when his own good deeds he deigns to mention,
His _memory_ still is no whit better grown;
But then he makes up for it, all will own,
By a prodigious talent of _invention_.

First published in _Morning Post_, Oct. 11, 1802.

TO MY CANDLE

THE FAREWELL EPIGRAM

Good Candle, thou that with thy brother, Fire,
Art my best friend and comforter at night,
Just snuff'd, thou look'st as if thou didst desire
That I on thee an epigram should write.

Dear Candle, burnt down to a finger-joint,
Thy own flame is an epigram of sight;
'Tis _short_, and _pointed_, and _all over_ light,
Yet gives _most_ light and burns the keenest at the point.
_Valete et Plaudite._

First published in _Morning Post_, Oct. 11, 1802.

EPITAPH

ON HIMSELF

Here sleeps at length poor Col., and without screaming--
Who died as he had always lived, a-dreaming:
Shot dead, while sleeping, by the Gout within--
Alone, and all unknown, at E'nbro' in an Inn.

'Composed in my sleep for myself while dreaming that I was dying' . . . at the Black Bull, Edinburgh, Tuesday, Sept. 13, 1803. Sent in a letter to Thomas Wedgwood, Sept. 16, 1803. First published Cottle's _Reminiscences_, 1848, p. 467. First collected in 1893.

THE TASTE OF THE TIMES

Some whim or fancy pleases every eye;
For talents premature 'tis now the rage:
In Music how great Handel would have smil'd
T' have seen what crowds are raptur'd with a child!
A Garrick we have had in little Betty--
And now we're told we have a Pitt in Petty!
All must allow, since thus it is decreed,
He is a very _petty_ Pitt indeed!

? 1806.

First printed (from an autograph MS.) by Mr. Bertram Dobell in the _Athenæum_, Jan. 9, 1904. Now collected for the first time.

ON PITT AND FOX

Britannia's boast, her glory and her pride,
Pitt in his Country's service lived and died:
At length resolv'd, like Pitt had done, to do,
For once to serve his Country, Fox died too!

First published by Mr. B. Dobell in the _Athenæum_, Jan. 6, 1904. This epigram belongs to the same MS. source as the preceding, 'On the Taste of the Times,' and may have been the composition of S. T. C.

In _Fugitive Pieces_ (1806) (see _P. W._, 1898, i. 34) Byron published a reply 'for insertion in the _Morning Chronicle_ to the following illiberal impromptu on the death of Mr. Fox, which appeared in the _Morning Post_ [Sept. 26, 1806]:--

"Our Nation's Foes lament on Fox's death,
But bless the hour when Pitt resigned his breath:
These feelings wide let Sense and Truth unclue,
We give the palm where Justice points its due."'

I have little doubt that this 'illiberal impromptu' was published by S. T. C., who had just returned from Italy and was once more writing for the press. It is possible that he veiled his initials in the line, 'Let Sense and Truth unClue.'

An excellent adage commands that we should
Relate of the dead that alone which is good;
But of the great Lord who here lies in lead
We know nothing good but that he is dead.

First published in _The Friend_, No. 12, Nov. 9, 1809. Included in _Essays, &c._, iii. 986. First collected in _P. and D. W._, 1877, ii. 178.

COMPARATIVE BREVITY OF GREEK AND ENGLISH

χρυσὸν ἀνὴρ εὑρὼν ἔλιπε βρόχον, αὐτὰρ ὁ χρυσὸν
ὅν λίπεν οὐχ εὑρὼν ἧψεν ὅν εὗρε βρόχον.

Jack finding gold left a rope on the ground:
Bill missing his gold used the rope which he found.

First published in _Omniana_, 1812, ii. 123. First collected in _P. and D. W._ 1877, ii. 374.

EPIGRAM ON THE SECRECY OF A CERTAIN LADY

'She's secret as the grave, allow!'
'I do; I cannot doubt it.
But 'tis a grave with tombstone on,
That tells you all about it.'

First published in _The Courier_, Jan. 3, 1814. Included in _Essays, &c._, iii. 986. Now collected for the first time.

MOTTO

FOR A TRANSPARENCY DESIGNED BY WASHINGTON ALLSTON AND EXHIBITED AT BRISTOL ON 'PROCLAMATION DAY'--_June 29, 1814._

We've fought for Peace, and conquer'd it at last,
The rav'ning vulture's leg seems fetter'd fast!
Britons, rejoice! and yet be wary too:
The chain may break, the clipt wing sprout anew.

First published in Cottle's _Early Recollections_, 1836, ii. 145. First collected 1890.

ANOTHER VERSION

We've conquered us a Peace, like lads true metalled:
And Bankrupt _Nap's_ accounts seem all now settled.

_Ibid._ ii. 145. First collected 1893.

Money, I've heard a wise man say,
Makes herself wings and flies away--
Ah! would she take it in her head
To make a pair for me instead.

First published (from an MS.) in 1893.

MODERN CRITICS

No private grudge they need, no personal spite,
The _viva sectio_ is its own delight!
All enmity, all envy, they disclaim,
Disinterested thieves of our good name--
Cool, sober murderers of their neighbours' fame!

First published in _Biog. Lit._, 1817, ii. 118. First collected in _P. W._, 1885, ii. 363.

WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM

Parry seeks the Polar ridge,
Rhymes seeks S. T. Coleridge,
Author of Works, whereof--tho' not in Dutch--
The public little knows--the publisher too much.

First published in 1834.

TO A LADY WHO REQUESTED ME TO WRITE A POEM UPON NOTHING

On nothing, Fanny, shall I write?
Shall I not one charm of thee indite?
The Muse is most unruly,
And vows to sing of what's more free,
More soft, more beautiful than thee;--
And that is _Nothing_, truly!

First published in the _Gazette of Fashion_, Feb. 22, 1822. Reprinted (by Mr. Bertram Dobell) in _N. and Q._, 10th Series, vol. vi, p. 145. Now collected for the first time.

SENTIMENTAL

The rose that blushes like the morn,
Bedecks the valleys low;
And so dost thou, sweet infant corn,
My Angelina's toe.

But on the rose there grows a thorn
That breeds disastrous woe;
And so dost thou, remorseless corn,
On Angelina's toe.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 59. First collected _P. and D. W._, 1877, ii. 366.

So Mr. Baker heart did pluck--
And did a-courting go!
And Mr. Baker is a buck;
For why? he _needs_ the _doe_.

First published in _Letters, Conversations, &c._, 1836, ii. 21. First collected in _P. and D. W._, 1877, ii. 373.

AUTHORS AND PUBLISHERS

'A heavy wit shall hang at every lord,'
So sung Dan Pope; but 'pon my word,
He was a story-teller,
Or else the times have altered quite;
For wits, or heavy, now, or light
Hang each by a bookseller.
S. T. C.

First published in _News of Literature_, Dec. 10, 1825. See _Arch. Constable and his Literary Correspondents_, 1873, iii. 482. First collected in 1893.

THE ALTERNATIVE

This way or that, ye Powers above me!
I of my grief were rid--
Did Enna either really love me,
Or cease to think she did.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 59. Included in _Essays, &c._, iii. 987. First collected in _P. W._, 1885, ii. 364.

In Spain, that land of Monks and Apes,
The thing called Wine doth come from grapes,
But on the noble River Rhine,
The thing called Gripes doth come from Wine!

First published in _Memoirs of C. M. Young_, 1871, p. 221. First collected in 1893.

INSCRIPTION FOR A TIME-PIECE

Now! It is gone--Our brief hours travel post,
Each with its thought or deed, its Why or How:--
But know, each parting hour gives up a ghost
To dwell within thee--an eternal Now!

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 60. First collected in 1844.

ON THE MOST VERACIOUS ANECDOTIST, AND SMALL-TALK MAN, THOMAS HILL, ESQ.[974:1]

Tom Hill, who laughs at Cares and Woes,
As nauci--nili--pili--
What is _he_ like, as I suppose?
Why, to be sure, a Rose--a Rose.
At least, no soul that Tom Hill knows
Could e'er recall a _Li-ly_.

Now first published from an MS.

Nothing speaks our mind so well
As to speak Nothing. Come then, tell
Thy Mind in Tears, whoe'er thou be
That ow'st a name to Misery:
None can _fluency_ deny
To Tears, the Language of the Eye.

Now first published from an MS. in the British Museum.

EPITAPH OF THE PRESENT YEAR ON THE MONUMENT OF THOMAS FULLER

A Lutheran stout, I hold for Goose-and-Gaundry
Both the Pope's Limbo and his fiery Laundry:
No wit e'er saw I in Original Sin,
And no Sin find I in Original Wit;
But if I'm all in the wrong, and, Grin for Grin,
Scorch'd Souls must pay for each too lucky hit,--
Oh, Fuller! much I fear, so vast thy debt,
Thou art not out of Purgatory yet;
Tho' one, eight, three and three this year is reckon'd,
And thou, I think, didst die _sub_ Charles the Second.

Nov. 28, 1833.

Now first published from an MS.

FOOTNOTES:

[951:1] A great, perhaps the greater, number of Coleridge's Epigrams are adaptations from the German of Wernicke, Lessing, and other less known epigrammatists. They were sent to the _Morning Post_ and other periodicals to supply the needs of the moment, and with the rarest exceptions they were deliberately excluded from the collected editions of his poetical works which received his own sanction, and were published in his lifetime. Collected for the first time by Mrs. H. N. Coleridge and reprinted in the third volume of _Essays on His Own Times_ (1850), they have been included, with additions and omissions, in _P. and D. W._, 1877-1880, _P. W._, 1885, _P. W._, 1890, and the Illustrated Edition of Coleridge's _Poems_, issued in 1907. The adaptations from the German were written and first published between 1799 and 1802. Of the earlier and later epigrams the greater number are original. Four epigrams were published anonymously in _The Watchman_, in April, 1796. Seventeen epigrams, of which twelve are by Coleridge, two by Southey, and three by Tobin, were published anonymously in the _Annual Anthology_ of 1800. Between January 2, 1798, and October 11, 1802 Coleridge contributed at least thirty-eight epigrams to the _Morning Post_. Most of these epigrams appeared under the well-known signature ΕΣΤΗΣΕ. Six epigrams, of which five had been published in the _Morning Post_, were included in _The Friend_ (No. 11, Oct. 26, 1809). Finally, Coleridge contributed six epigrams to the _Keepsake_, of which four had been published in the _Morning Post_, and one in the _Annual Anthology_. Epigrams were altogether excluded from _Sibylline Leaves_ and from the three-volume editions of 1828 and 1829; but in 1834 the rule was relaxed and six epigrams were allowed to appear. Two of these, _In An Album_ ('Parry seeks the Polar Ridge') and _On an Insignificant_ (''Tis Cypher lies beneath this Crust') were published for the first time.

For the discovery of the German originals of some twenty epigrams, now for the first time noted and verified, I am indebted to the generous assistance of Dr. Hermann Georg Fiedler, Taylorian Professor of the German Language and Literature at Oxford, and of my friend Miss Katharine Schlesinger.

[953:1] N.B. Bad in itself, and, as Bob Allen used to say of his puns, looks damned ugly upon paper.

[954:1] Lines 3, 4, with the heading 'On an Insignificant,' were written by S. T. C. in Southey's copy of the _Omniana_ of 1812 [see nos. 9, 11]. See _P. W._, 1885, ii. 402, _Note_.

[961:1] The antithesis was, perhaps, borrowed from an Epigram entitled 'Posthumous Fame', included in _Elegant Extracts_, ii. 260.

If on his spacious marble we rely,
Pity a worth like his should ever die!
If credit to his real life we give,
Pity a wretch like him should ever live.

[962:1] The first and second versions are included in _Essays, &c._, 1850, iii. 976: the third version was first published in 1893.

In 1830 Coleridge re-wrote (he did not publish) the second version as an Epitaph on Hazlitt. The following apologetic note was affixed:--

'With a sadness at heart, and an earnest hope grounded on his misanthropic sadness, when I first knew him in his twentieth or twenty-first year, that a something existed in his bodily organism that in the sight of the All-Merciful lessened his responsibility, and the moral imputation of his acts and feelings.' _MS._

[964:1] The 'One who published' was, perhaps, Charles Lloyd, in his novel, _Edmund Oliver_, 2 vols. 1798. Compare the following Epigram of Prior's:--

To John I ow'd great obligation,
But John unhappily thought fit
To publish it to all the nation:
Sure John and I are more than quit.

[974:1] Extempore, in reply to a question of Mr. Theodore Hook's--'Look at him, and say what you think: Is not he like a Rose?'

JEUX D'ESPRIT

MY GODMOTHER'S BEARD[976:1]

So great the charms of Mrs. Mundy,
That men grew rude, a kiss to gain:
This so provok'd the dame that one day
To Pallas chaste she did complain:

Nor vainly she address'd her prayer,
Nor vainly to that power applied;
The goddess bade a length of hair
In deep recess her muzzle hide:

Still persevere! to love be callous!
For I have your petition heard!
To snatch a kiss were vain (cried Pallas)
Unless you first should shave your beard.

? 1791

First published in _Table Talk and Omniana_, 1888, p. 392. The lines were inscribed by Coleridge in Gillman's copy of the _Omniana_ of 1812. An apologetic note is attached. J. P. Collier (_Old Man's Diary_, 1871, March 5, 1832, Part I, p. 34) says that Coleridge 'recited the following not very good epigram by him on his godmother's beard; the consequence of which was that he was struck out of her will'. Most probably the lines, as inscribed on the margin of _Omniana_, were written about 1830 or 1831. First collected in _Coleridge's Poems_, 1907.

LINENOTES:

[4] Pallas chaste] Wisdom's Power S. T. C.

LINES TO THOMAS POOLE

[Quoted in a letter from Coleridge to John Thelwall, dated
Dec. 17, 1796.]

. . . . Joking apart, I would to God we could sit by a fire-side and joke _vivâ voce_, face to face--Stella [Mrs. Thelwall] and Sara [Mrs. S. T. Coleridge], Jack Thelwall and I!--as I once wrote to my dear _friend_ T. Poole,--

Repeating
Such verse as Bowles, heart honour'd Poet sang,
That wakes the Tear, yet steals away the Pang,
Then, or with Berkeley, or with Hobbes romance it,
Dissecting Truth with metaphysic lancet.
Or, drawn from up these dark unfathom'd wells,
In wiser folly chink the Cap and Bells.
How many tales we told! what jokes we made,
Conundrum, Crambo, Rebus, or Charade;
Ænigmas that had driven the Theban mad,
And Puns, these best when exquisitely bad;
And I, if aught of archer vein I hit,
With my own laughter stifled my own wit.

1796. First published in 1893.

TO A WELL-KNOWN MUSICAL CRITIC, REMARKABLE FOR HIS EARS STICKING THROUGH HIS HAIR.

O ----! O ----! of you we complain
For exposing those ears to the wind and the rain.
Thy face, a huge whitlow just come to a head,
Ill agrees with those ears so raw and so red.

A Musical Critic of old fell a-pouting
When he saw how his asinine honours were sprouting;
But he hid 'em quite snug, in a full friz of hair,
And the Barber alone smoked his donkeys [so] rare.

Thy judgment much worse, and thy _perkers_ as ample,
O give heed to King Midas, and take his example.
Thus to _publish_ your fate is as useless as wrong--
You but prove by your ears, what we guessed from your tongue.
LABERIUS.

First published in the _Morning Post_, January 4, 1798. First collected _P. and D. W._, 1877-80, ii. 370.

TO T. POOLE

AN INVITATION

Plucking flowers from the Galaxy
On the pinions of Abstraction,
I did quite forget to ax 'e,
Whether you have an objaction,
With us to swill 'e and to swell 'e
And make a pig-stie of your belly.
A lovely limb most dainty
Of a _ci-devant_ Mud-raker,
I makes bold to acquaint 'e
We've trusted to the Baker:
And underneath it satis
Of the subterrene apple
By the erudite 'clep'd _taties_--
With which, if you'ld wish to grapple,
As sure as I'm a sloven,
The clock will not strike twice one,
When the said dish will be out of the oven,
And the dinner will be a nice one.

P.S.

Besides we've got some cabbage.
You Jew-dog, if you linger,
May the Itch in pomp of scabbage
Pop out between each finger.

January, 1797.

First published (_minus_ the postscript) in _Thomas Poole and His Friends_, 1888, i. 211.

SONG

TO BE SUNG BY THE LOVERS OF ALL THE NOBLE LIQUORS COMPRISED UNDER THE NAME OF ALE.

Ye drinkers of Stingo and Nappy so free,
Are the Gods on Olympus so happy as we?

They cannot be so happy!
For why? they drink no Nappy.

But what if Nectar, in their lingo,
Is but another name for Stingo?

Why, then we and the Gods are equally blest,
And Olympus an Ale-house as good as the best!

First published in _Morning Post_, September 18, 1801. Included in _Essays, &c._, iii. 995-6. First collected _P. and D. W._, 1877, ii. 167.

DRINKING _VERSUS_ THINKING

OR, A SONG AGAINST THE NEW PHILOSOPHY

My Merry men all, that drink with glee
This fanciful Philosophy,
Pray tell me what good is it?
If _antient Nick_ should come and take,
The same across the Stygian Lake,
I guess we ne'er should miss it.

Away, each pale, self-brooding spark
That goes truth-hunting in the dark,
Away from our carousing!
To Pallas we resign such fowls--
Grave birds of wisdom! ye're but owls,
And all your trade but _mousing_!

My merry men all, here's punch and wine,
And spicy bishop, drink divine!
Let's live while we are able.
While Mirth and Sense sit, hand in glove,
This Don Philosophy we'll shove
Dead drunk beneath the table!

First published in _Morning Post_, September 25, 1801. Included in _Essays, &c._, iii. 966-7. First collected _P. and D. W._, 1877, ii. 168.

THE WILLS OF THE WISP

A SAPPHIC

_Vix ea nostra voco_

Lunatic Witch-fires! Ghosts of Light and Motion!
Fearless I see you weave your wanton dances
Near me, far off me; you, that tempt the traveller
Onward and onward.

Wooing, retreating, till the swamp beneath him
Groans--and 'tis dark!--This woman's wile--I know it!
Learnt it from _thee_, from _thy_ perfidious glances!
Black-ey'd Rebecca!

First published in _Morning Post_, December 1, 1801. First collected _P. and D. W._, 1877, ii. 169.

TO CAPTAIN FINDLAY

When the squalls were flitting and fleering
And the vessel was tacking and veering;
Bravo! Captain Findlay,
Who foretold a fair wind
Of a constant mind;
For he knew which way the wind lay,
Bravo! Captain Findlay.

A Health to Captain Findlay,
Bravo! Captain Findlay!
When we made but ill speed with the Speedwell,
Neither poets nor sheep could feed well:
Now grief rotted the Liver,
Yet Malta, dear Malta, as far off as ever!

Bravo! Captain Findlay,
Foretold a fair wind,
Of a constant mind,
For he knew which way the wind lay!

May 4, 1804.

Now first published from a Notebook. The rhymes are inserted between the following entries:--'Thursday night--Wind chopped about and about, once fairly to the west, for a minute or two--but now, 1/2 past 9, the Captain comes down and promises a fair wind for to-morrow. We shall see.' 'Well, and we have got a wind the right way at last!'

ON DONNE'S POEM 'TO A FLEA'

Be proud as Spaniards! Leap for pride ye Fleas!
Henceforth in Nature's mimic World grandees.
In Phœbus' archives registered are ye,
And this your patent of Nobility.
No skip-Jacks now, nor civiller skip-Johns,
Dread Anthropophagi! specks of living bronze,
I hail you one and all, sans Pros or Cons,
Descendants from a noble race of Dons.
What tho' that great ancestral Flea be gone,
Immortal with immortalising Donne,
His earthly spots bleached off a Papist's gloze,
In purgatory fire on Bardolph's nose.

1811.

Now first published from an MS.

[EX LIBRIS S. T. C.][981:1]

This, Hannah Scollock! may have been the case;
Your writing therefore I will not erase.
But now this Book, once yours, belongs to me,
The _Morning Post's_ and _Courier's_ S. T. C.;--
Elsewhere in College, knowledge, wit and scholarage
To Friends and Public known as S. T. Coleridge.
Witness hereto my hand, on Ashley Green,
One thousand, twice four hundred, and fourteen
Year of our Lord--and of the month November
The fifteenth day, if right I do remember.

15th Nov. 1814. Ashley, Box, Bath.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, iii. 57. First collected _P. and D. W._, 1877, ii. 387.

ΕΓΩΕΝΚΑΙΠΑΝ

The following burlesque on the Fichtean Egoismus may, perhaps, be amusing to the few who have studied the system, and to those who are unacquainted with it, may convey as tolerable a likeness of Fichte's idealism as can be expected from an avowed caricature. [S. T. C.]

The Categorical Imperative, or the annunciation of the New Teutonic God, ΕΓΩΕΝΚΑΙΠΑΝ: a dithyrambic Ode, by QUERKOPF VON KLUBSTICK, Grammarian, and Subrector in Gymnasio. . . .

_Eu! Dei vices gerens, ipse Divus_,
(Speak English, Friend!) the God Imperativus,
Here on this market-cross aloud I cry:
'I, I, I! I itself I!
The form and the substance, the what and the why,
The when and the where, and the low and the high,
The inside and outside, the earth and the sky,
I, you, and he, and he, you and I,
All souls and all bodies are I itself I!
All I itself I!
(Fools! a truce with this starting!)
All my I! all my I!
He's a heretic dog who but adds Betty Martin!'
Thus cried the God with high imperial tone:
In robe of stiffest state, that scoff'd at beauty,
A pronoun-verb imperative he shone--
Then substantive and plural-singular grown,
He thus spake on:--'Behold in I alone
(For Ethics boast a syntax of their own)
Or if in ye, yet as I doth depute ye,
In O! I, you, the vocative of duty!
I of the world's whole Lexicon the root!
Of the whole universe of touch, sound, sight,
The genitive and ablative to boot:
The accusative of wrong, the nom'native of right,
And in all cases the case absolute!
Self-construed, I all other moods decline:
Imperative, from nothing we derive us;
Yet as a super-postulate of mine,
Unconstrued antecedence I assign,
To X Y Z, the God Infinitivus!'

1815.

First published in _Biographia Literaria_, 1817, i. 148_n._ First collected _P. and D. W._, 1877, ii. 370.

THE BRIDGE STREET COMMITTEE

Jack Snipe
Eats Tripe:
It is therefore credible
That tripe is edible.
And therefore, perforce,
It follows, of course,
That the Devil will gripe
All who do not eat Tripe.

And as Nic is too slow
To fetch 'em below:
And Gifford, the attorney,
Won't quicken their journey;
The Bridge-Street Committee
That colleague without pity,
To imprison and hang
Carlile and his gang,
Is the pride of the City,
And 'tis Association
That, alone, saves the Nation
From Death and Damnation.

First published in _Letters and Conversations, &c._, 1836, i. 90, 91. These lines, which were inscribed in one of Coleridge's notebooks, refer to a 'Constitutional association' which promoted the prosecution of Richard Carlile, the publisher of Paine's _Age of Reason_, for blasphemy. See _Diary_ of H. C. Robinson, 1869, ii. 134, 135. First collected _P. W._, 1885, ii. 405.

NONSENSE SAPPHICS[983:1]

Here's Jem's first copy of nonsense verses,
All in the antique style of Mistress Sappho,
Latin just like Horace the tuneful Roman,
Sapph's imitator:

But we Bards, we classical Lyric Poets,
Know a thing or two in a scurvy Planet:
Don't we, now? Eh? Brother Horatius Flaccus,
Tip us your paw, Lad:--

Here's to Mæcenas and the other worthies;
Rich men of England! would ye be immortal?
Patronise Genius, giving Cash and Praise to
Gillman Jacobus;

Gillman Jacobus, he of Merchant Taylors',
Minor ætate, ingenio at stupendus,
Sapphic, Heroic, Elegiac,--what a
Versificator!

First published in _Essays, &c._, 1850, iii. 987. First collected 1893.

TO SUSAN STEELE ON RECEIVING THE PURSE

EXTRUMPERY LINES

My dearest Dawtie!
That's never naughty--
When the Mare was stolen, and not before,
The wise man got a stable-door:
And he and I are brother Ninnies,
One Beast _he_ lost and I two guineas;
And as sure as it's wet when it above rains,
The man's brains and mine both alike had thick coverings,
For if he lost one mare, poor I lost two sovereigns!
A cash-pouch I have got, but no cash to put in it,
Tho' there's gold in the world and Sir Walter can win it:
For your sake I'll keep it for better or worse,
So here is a dear loving kiss for your purse.
S. T. COLERIDGE.

1829. Now first published from an MS.

ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS[984:1]

I.--_By Likeness_

Fond, peevish, wedded pair! why all this rant?
O guard your tempers! hedge your tongues about
This empty head should warn you on that point--
The teeth were quarrelsome, and so fell out.
S. T. C.

II.--_Association by Contrast_

Phidias changed marble into feet and legs.
Disease! vile anti-Phidias! thou, i' fegs!
Hast turned my live limbs into marble pegs.

III.--_Association by Time_

SIMPLICIUS SNIPKIN _loquitur_

I touch this scar upon my skull behind,
And instantly there rises in my mind
Napoleon's mighty hosts from Moscow lost,
Driven forth to perish in the fangs of Frost.
For in that self-same month, and self-same day,
Down Skinner Street I took my hasty way--
Mischief and Frost had set the boys at play;
I stept upon a slide--oh! treacherous tread!--
Fell smash with bottom bruised, and brake my head!
Thus Time's co-presence links the great and small,
Napoleon's overthrow, and Snipkin's fall.

? 1830. First published in _Fraser's Magazine_, Jan. 1835, Art. 'Coleridgeiana'. First collected 1893.

VERSES TRIVOCULAR

Of one scrap of science I've evidence ocular.
A heart of one chamber they call unilocular,
And in a sharp frost, or when snow-flakes fall floccular,
Your wise man of old wrapp'd himself in a Roquelaure,
Which was called a Wrap-rascal when folks would be jocular.
And shell-fish, the small, Periwinkle and Cockle are,
So with them will I finish these verses trivocular.

Now first published from an MS.

CHOLERA CURED BEFORE-HAND

Or a premonition promulgated gratis for the use of the Useful Classes, specially those resident in St. Giles's, Saffron Hill, Bethnal Green, etc.; and likewise, inasmuch as the good man is merciful even to the beasts, for the benefit of the Bulls and Bears of the Stock Exchange.

Pains ventral, subventral,
In stomach or entrail,
Think no longer mere prefaces
For grins, groans, and wry faces;
But off to the doctor, fast as ye can crawl! 5
Yet far better 'twould be not to have them at all.

Now to 'scape inward aches,
Eat no plums nor plum-cakes;
Cry avaunt! new potato--
And don't drink, like old Cato. 10
Ah! beware of Dispipsy,
And don't ye get tipsy!
For tho' gin and whiskey
May make you feel frisky,
They're but crimps to Dispipsy; 15
And nose to tail, with this gipsy
Comes, black as a porpus,
The diabolus ipse,
Call'd Cholery Morpus;
Who with horns, hoofs, and tail, croaks for carrion to feed him, 20
Tho' being a Devil, no one never has seed him!

Ah! then my dear honies,
There's no cure for you
For loves nor for monies:--
You'll find it too true. 25
Och! the hallabaloo!
Och! och! how you'll wail,
When the offal-fed vagrant
Shall turn you as blue
As the gas-light unfragrant, 30
That gushes in jets from beneath his own tail;--
'Till swift as the mail,
He at last brings the cramps on,
That will twist you like Samson.
So without further blethring, 35
Dear mudlarks! my brethren!
Of all scents and degrees,
(Yourselves and your shes)
Forswear all cabal, lads,
Wakes, unions, and rows, 40
Hot dreams and cold salads,
And don't pig in styes that would suffocate sows!
Quit Cobbett's, O'Connell's and Beelzebub's banners,
And whitewash at once bowels, rooms, hands, and manners!

July 26, 1832. First published in _P. W._ 1834. These lines were enclosed in a letter to J. H. Green, dated July 26, 1832, with the following introduction: 'Address premonitory to the Sovereign People, or the Cholera cured before-hand, promulgated _gratis_ for the use of the useful classes, specially of those resident in St. Giles, Bethnal Green, Saffron Hill, etc., by their Majesties', i. e. the People's, loyal subject--Demophilus Mudlarkiades.'

LINENOTES:

[1-6] om. Letter 1832.

[7-8] To escape Belly ache Eat no plums nor plum cake Letter 1832.

[12] And therefore don't get tipsy Letter 1832.

[16] with this gipsy] of Dys Pipsy Letter 1832.

[22] And oh! och my dear Honies Letter 1832.

[28] offal-fed] horn-and-hoof'd Letter 1832.

[41] dreams] drams Letter 1832.

[44] And whitewash at once your Guts, Rooms and Manners Letter 1832.

[After 44]

Vivat Rex Popellio!
Vivat Regina Plebs!
Hurra! 3 times 3 thrice
repeated Hurra!

Letter, 1832.

TO BABY BATES

You come from o'er the waters,
From famed Columbia's land,
And you have sons and daughters,
And money at command.

But I live in an island,
Great Britain is its name,
With money none to buy land,
The more it is the shame.

But we are all the children
Of one great God of Love,
Whose mercy like a mill-drain
Runs over from above.

Lullaby, lullaby,
Sugar-plums and cates,
Close your little peeping eye,
Bonny Baby B----s.

First collected 1893. 'Baby Bates' was the daughter of Joshua Bates, one of the donors of the Boston Library. Her father and mother passed a year (1828-1829) at Highgate, 'close to the house of Dr. and Mrs. Gillman.' See a letter to Mrs. Bates from S. T. C. dated Jan. 23, 1829. _N. and Q._ 4th Series, i. 469.

TO A CHILD[987:1]

Little Miss Fanny,
So cubic and canny,
With blue eyes and blue shoes--
The Queen of the Blues!
As darling a girl as there is in the world--
If she'll laugh, skip and jump,
And not be _Miss Glump_!

1834. First published in _Athenæum_, Jan. 28, 1888. First collected 1893.

FOOTNOTES:

[976:1] 'There is a female saint (St. Vuilgefortis), whom the Jesuit Sautel, in his _Annus Sacer Poeticus_, has celebrated for her beard--a mark of divine favour bestowed upon her for her prayers.' _Omniana_, 1812, ii. 54. 'Pereant qui ante nos nostra dixere! What! can nothing be one's own? This is the more vexatious, for at the age of eighteen I lost a legacy of fifty pounds for the following epigram on my godmother's beard, which she had the _barbarity_ to revenge by striking me out of her will.' _S. T. C._

[981:1] These lines are written on a fly-leaf of a copy of _Five Bookes of the Church_ by Richard Field (folio 1635), under the inscription: 'Hannah Scollock, her book, February 10, 1787.' The volume was bequeathed to the poet's younger son, Derwent Coleridge, and is now in the possession of the Editor.

[983:1] Written for James Gillman Junr. as a School Exercise, for _Merchant Taylors'_, c. 1822-3.

[984:1] Written in pencil on the blank leaf of a book of lectures delivered at the London University, in which the Hartleyan doctrine of association was assumed as a true basis.

[987:1] To Miss Fanny Boyce, afterwards Lady Wilmot Horton.

FRAGMENTS FROM A NOTEBOOK[988:1]

_Circa_ 1796-98

Light cargoes waft of modulated Sound
From viewless Hybla brought, when Melodies
Like Birds of Paradise on wings, that aye
Disport in wild variety of hues,
Murmur around the honey-dropping flower.

First published in 1893. Compare _The Eolian Harp_ (Aug. 1795), lines 20-5 (_ante_ p. 101).

Broad-breasted rock--hanging cliff that glasses
His rugged forehead in the calmy sea.[988:2]

First published in 1893. Compare _Destiny of Nations_ (1796), lines 342, 343 (_ante_ p. 143).

Where Cam his stealthy flowings most dissembles
And scarce the Willow's watery shadow trembles.

First published in 1893. Compare line 1 of _A Fragment Found in a Lecture-Room_, 'Where deep in mud Cam rolls his slumbrous stream' (_ante_, p. 35).

With secret hand heal the conjectur'd wound,

[or]

Guess at the wound, and heal with secret hand.

First published in 1893. The alternative line was first published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 279.

Outmalic'd Calumny's imposthum'd Tongue.

First published in 1893. A line from _Verses to Horne Tooke_, July 4, 1796, line 20 (_ante_, p. 151).

And write Impromptus
Spurring their Pegasus to tortoise gallop.

First published in 1893.

Due to the Staggerers, that made drunk by Power
Forget thirst's eager promise, and presume,
Dark Dreamers! that the world forgets it too.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, 1836, i. 27.

LINENOTES:

[1] Due] These L. R.

Perish warmth
Unfaithful to its seeming!

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 279.

Old age, 'the shape and messenger of Death,'
'His wither'd Fist still knocking at Death's door.'

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 279. Quoted from Sackville's _Induction to a Mirrour for Magistrates_, stanza 48:

'His wither'd fist stil knocking at deathes dore,
Tumbling and driveling as he drawes his breth;
For briefe, the shape and messenger of death.'

God no distance knows,
All of the whole possessing!

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 279. Compare _Religious Musings_, ll. 156-7.

Wherefore art thou come? doth not the Creator of all things
know all things? And if thou art come to seek him, know that
where thou wast, there he was.

First published in 1893. Compare the _Wanderings of Cain_.

And cauldrons the scoop'd earth, a boiling sea.

First published in 1893.

Rush on my ear, a cataract of sound.

First published in 1893.

The guilty pomp, consuming while it flares.

First published in 1893.

My heart seraglios a whole host of Joys.

First published in 1893.

And Pity's sigh shall answer thy tale of Anguish
Like the faint echo of a distant valley.

First published in _Notizbuch_, 1896, p. 350.

A DUNGEON

In darkness I remain'd--the neighb'ring clock
Told me that now the rising sun shone lovely
On my garden.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 279. Compare _Osorio_, Act I, lines 219-21 (_ante_, p. 528), and _Remorse_, Act I, Scene II, lines 218-20 (_ante_, p. 830).

LINENOTES:

[2] sun at dawn L. R.

The Sun (for now his orb 'gan slowly sink)
Shot half his rays aslant the heath whose flowers
Purpled the mountain's broad and level top;
Rich was his bed of clouds, and wide beneath
Expecting Ocean smiled with dimpled face.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 278. Compare _This Lime-Tree Bower_ (1797), lines 32-7 (_ante_, pp. 179, 180).

Leanness, disquietude, and secret Pangs.

First published in _Notizbuch_, p. 351.

Smooth, shining, and deceitful as thin Ice.

First published in _Notizbuch_, p. 355.

Wisdom, Mother of retired Thought.

First published in 1893.

Nature wrote Rascal on his face,
By chalcographic art!

First published in 1893.

In this world we dwell among the tombs
And touch the pollutions of the Dead.

First published in 1893. Compare _Destiny of Nations_, ll. 177-8 (_ante_, p. 137).

The mild despairing of a Heart resigned.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 278.

Such fierce vivacity as fires the eye
Of Genius fancy-craz'd.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 278. Compare _Destiny of Nations_, ll. 257, 258 (_ante_, p. 139).

----like a mighty Giantess
Seiz'd in sore travail and prodigious birth
Sick Nature struggled: long and strange her pangs;
Her groans were horrible, but O! most fair
The Twins she bore--EQUALITY and PEACE!

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 278. Compare concluding lines of the second strophe of _Ode to the Departing Year_, 4{o}, 1796.

Discontent
Mild as an infant low-plaining in its sleep.

First published in 1893.

----terrible and loud,
As the strong Voice that from the Thunder-cloud
Speaks to the startled Midnight.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 278.

The swallows
Interweaving there, mid the pair'd sea-mews
At distance wildly-wailing!

First published in 1893.

The Brook runs over sea-weeds.
Sabbath day--from the Miller's merry wheel
The water-drops dripp'd leisurely.

First published in 1893. It is possible the Fragments were some of the 'studies' for _The Brook_. See _Biog. Lit._, Cap. X, ed. 1907, i. 129.

On the broad mountain-top
The neighing wild-colt races with the wind
O'er fern and heath-flowers.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 278.

A long deep lane
So overshadow'd, it might seem one bower--
The damp clay-banks were furr'd with mouldy moss.

First published in 1893.

Broad-breasted Pollards, with broad-branching heads.

First published in 1893.

'Twas sweet to know it only possible--
Some _wishes_ cross'd my mind and dimly cheer'd it--
And one or two poor melancholy Pleasures--
In these, the pale unwarming light of Hope
Silv'ring their flimsy wing, flew silent by,
Moths in the Moonlight.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 277, 278.

LINENOTES:

[4] In these] Each in L. R.

[5] their] its L. R.

Behind the thin
Grey cloud that cover'd but not hid the sky
The round full moon look'd small.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 277. Compare _Christabel_, ll. 16, 17 (_ante_, p. 216).

The subtle snow
In every breeze rose curling from the Grove
Like pillars of cottage smoke.

First published in _Lit. Rem._, i. 278.

LINENOTES:

The Subtle snow in every passing breeze
Rose curling from the grove like shafts of smoke.

L. R.

The sunshine lies on the cottage-wall,
A-shining thro' the snow.

First published in 1893.

A MANIAC in the woods--She crosses heedlessly the woodman's
path--scourg'd by rebounding boughs.

First published in 1893.

Compare this with discarded stanza in 'Introduction to the Tale of the Dark Ladié' as printed in the _Morning Post_, Dec. 21, 1799 (vide _ante_, p. 333).

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

Note by J. D. Campbell, _P. W._, 1893, p. 456.

HYMNS--MOON

In a cave in the mountains of Cashmeer, an image of ice, which
makes its appearance thus: Two days before the new moon there
appears a bubble of ice, which increases in size every day
till the fifteenth day, at which it is an ell or more in
height;--then, as the moon decreases the Image does also till
it vanishes. _Mem._ Read the whole 107th page of Maurice's
_Indostan_.

First published in 1893. 'Hymns to the Sun, the Moon, and the Elements' are included in a list of projected works enumerated in the Gutch Notebook. The 'caves of ice' in _Kubla Khan_ may have been a reminiscence of the 107th page of Maurice's _Hindostan_.

The tongue can't speak when the mouth is cramm'd with earth--
A little mould fills up most eloquent mouths,
And a square stone with a few pious texts
Cut neatly on it, keeps the mould down tight.

First published in 1893. Compare _Osorio_, Act III, lines 259-62 (_ante_, p. 560).

And with my whole heart sing the stately song,
Loving the God that made me.

First published in 1893. Compare _Fears in Solitude_, ll. 196-7 (_ante_, p. 263).

God's Image, Sister of the Cherubim!

First published in 1893. Compare the last line of _The Ode to the Departing Year_ (_ante_, p. 168).

And re-implace God's Image in the Soul.

First published in 1893.

And arrows steeled with wrath.

First published in 1893.

Lov'd the same Love, and hated the same hate,
Breath'd in his soul! etc. etc.

First published in 1893.

O man! thou half-dead Angel!

First published in 1893.

Thy stern and sullen eye, and thy dark brow
Chill me, like dew-damps of th' unwholesome Night.
My Love, a timorous and tender flower,
Closes beneath thy Touch, unkindly man!
Breath'd on by gentle gales of Courtesy
And cheer'd by sunshine of impassion'd look--
Then opes its petals of no vulgar hues.

First published in 1893. See _Remorse_, Act I, Sc. II, ll. 81-4 (_ante_, p. 826). Compare _Osorio_, Act. I, ll. 80-3 (_ante_, p. 522).

With skill that never Alchemist yet told,
Made drossy Lead as ductile as pure Gold.

First published in 1893.

Grant me a Patron, gracious Heaven! whene'er
My unwash'd follies call for Penance drear:
But when more hideous guilt this heart infests
Instead of fiery coals upon my Pate,
O let a _titled_ Patron be my Fate;--
That fierce Compendium of Ægyptian Pests!
Right reverend Dean, right honourable Squire,
Lord, Marquis, Earl, Duke, Prince,--or if aught higher,
However proudly nicknamed, he shall be
Anathema Maránatha to me!

First published, _Lit. Rem._, i. 281.

FOOTNOTES:

[988:1] One of the earliest of Coleridge's Notebooks, which fell into the hands of his old schoolfellow, John Mathew Gutch, the printer and proprietor of _Felix Farley's Bristol Journal_, was purchased by the Trustees of the British Museum in 1868, and is now included in _Add. MSS._ as No. 27901. The fragments of verse contained in the notebook are included in _P. W._ 1893, pp. 453-8. The notebook as a whole was published by Professor A. Brandl in 1896 (_S. T. Coleridge's Notizbuch aus den Jahren 1795-1798_). Nineteen entries are included by H. N. Coleridge in _Poems and Poetical Fragments_ published in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 277-80.

[988:2] An incorrect version of the lines was published in _Lit. Rem._, ii. 280.

FRAGMENTS[996:1]

O'er the raised earth the gales of evening sigh;
And, see, a daisy peeps upon its slope!
I wipe the dimming waters from mine eye;
Even on the cold grave lights the Cherub Hope.[996:2]

? 1787. First published in _Poems_, 1852 (p. 379, Note 1). First collected 1893.

Sea-ward, white gleaming thro' the busy scud
With arching Wings, the sea-mew o'er my head
Posts on, as bent on speed, now passaging
Edges the stiffer Breeze, now, yielding, drifts,
Now floats upon the air, and sends from far
A wildly-wailing Note.

Now first published from an MS. Compare Fragment No. 29 of Fragments from a Notebook.

OVER MY COTTAGE

The Pleasures sport beneath the thatch;
But Prudence sits upon the watch;
Nor Dun nor Doctor lifts the latch!

1799. First published from an MS. in 1893. Suggested by Lessing's _Sinngedicht_ No. 104.

In the lame and limping metre of a barbarous Latin poet--

Est meum et est tuum, amice! at si amborum nequit esse,
Sit meum, amice, precor: quia certe sum mage pauper.

'Tis mine and it is likewise yours;
But and if this will not do,
Let it be mine, because that I
Am the poorer of the Two!

Nov. 1, 1801. First published in the Preface to _Christabel_, 1816. First collected 1893.

Names do not always meet with LOVE,
And LOVE wants courage without a _name_.[997:1]

Dec. 1801. Now first published from an MS.

The Moon, how definite its orb!
Yet gaze again, and with a steady gaze--
'Tis there indeed,--but where is it not?--
It is suffused o'er all the sapphire Heaven,
Trees, herbage, snake-like stream, unwrinkled Lake,
Whose very murmur does of it partake!

And low and close the broad smooth mountain is more a thing
of Heaven than when distinct by one dim shade, and yet
undivided from the universal cloud in which it towers infinite
in height.

? 1801. First published from an MS. in 1893.

Such love as mourning Husbands have
To her whose Spirit has been newly given
To her guardian Saint in Heaven--
Whose Beauty lieth in the grave--

(Unconquered, as if the Soul could find no purer Tabernacle, nor place of sojourn than the virgin Body it had before dwelt in, and wished to stay there till the Resurrection)--

Far liker to a Flower now than when alive,
Cold to the Touch and blooming to the eye.

Sept. 1803. Now first published from an MS.

[THE NIGHT-MARE DEATH IN LIFE]

I know 'tis but a dream, yet feel more anguish
Than if 'twere truth. It has been often so:
Must I die under it? Is no one near?
Will no one hear these stifled groans and wake me?

? 1803. Now first published from an MS.

Bright clouds of reverence, sufferably bright,
That intercept the dazzle, not the Light;
That veil the finite form, the boundless power reveal,
Itself an earthly sun of pure intensest white.

1803. First published from an MS. in 1893.

A BECK IN WINTER[998:1]

Over the broad, the shallow, rapid stream,
The Alder, a vast hollow Trunk, and ribb'd--
All mossy green with mosses manifold,
And ferns still waving in the river-breeze
Sent out, like fingers, five projecting trunks--
The shortest twice 6 (?) of a tall man's strides.--
One curving upward in its middle growth
Rose straight with grove of twigs--a pollard tree:--
The rest more backward, gradual in descent--
One in the brook and one befoamed its waters:
One ran along the bank in the elk-like head
And pomp of antlers--

Jan. 1804. Now first published from an MS. (pencil).

I from the influence of thy Looks receive,
Access in every virtue, in thy Sight
More wise, more wakeful, stronger, if need were
Of outward strength.--

1804. Now first published from an MS.

What never is, but only is to be
This is not Life:--
O hopeless Hope, and Death's Hypocrisy!
And with perpetual promise breaks its promises.

1804-5. Now first published from an MS.

The silence of a City, how awful at Midnight!
Mute as the battlements and crags and towers
That Fancy makes in the clouds, yea, as mute
As the moonlight that sleeps on the steady vanes.

(or)

The cell of a departed anchoret,
His skeleton and flitting ghost are there,
Sole tenants--
And all the City silent as the Moon
That steeps in quiet light the steady vanes
Of her huge temples.

1804-5. Now first published from an MS.

O beauty in a beauteous body dight!
Body that veiling brightness, beamest bright;
Fair cloud which less we see, than by thee see the light.

1805. First published from an MS. in 1893.

O th' Oppressive, irksome weight
Felt in an uncertain state:
Comfort, peace, and rest adieu
Should I prove at last untrue!
Self-confiding wretch, I thought
I could love thee as I ought,
Win thee and deserve to feel
All the Love thou canst reveal,
And still I chuse thee, follow still.

1805. First published from an MS. in 1893.

'Twas not a mist, nor was it quite a cloud,
But it pass'd smoothly on towards the sea--
Smoothly and lightly between Earth and Heaven:
So, thin a cloud,
It scarce bedimm'd the star that shone behind it:
And Hesper now
Paus'd on the welkin blue, and cloudless brink,
A golden circlet! while the Star of Jove--
That other lovely star--high o'er my head
Shone whitely in the centre of his Haze
. . . one black-blue cloud
Stretch'd, like the heaven, o'er all the cope of Heaven.

Dec. 1797. First published from an MS. in 1893.

[NOT A CRITIC--BUT A JUDGE]

Whom should I choose for my Judge? the earnest, impersonal reader,
Who, in the work, forgets me and the world and himself!
You who have eyes to detect, and Gall to Chastise the imperfect,
Have you the heart, too, that loves,--feels and rewards the
Compleat?

1805. Now first published from an MS.

A sumptuous and magnificent Revenge.

March 1806. First published from an MS. in 1893.

[DE PROFUNDIS CLAMAVI]

Come, come thou bleak December wind,
And blow the dry leaves from the tree!
Flash, like a love-thought, thro' me, Death!
And take a life that wearies me.

Leghorn, June 7, 1806. First published in _Letters of S. T. C._, 1875, ii. 499, n. 1. Now collected for the first time. Adapted from Percy's version of 'Waly, Waly, Love be bonny', st. 3.

Marti'mas wind when wilt thou blaw,
And shake the green leaves aff the tree?
O gentle death, when wilt thou cum?
For of my life I am wearie.

As some vast Tropic tree, itself a wood,
That crests its head with clouds, beneath the flood
Feeds its deep roots, and with the bulging flank
Of its wide base controls the fronting bank--
(By the slant current's pressure scoop'd away
The fronting bank becomes a foam-piled bay)
High in the Fork the uncouth Idol knits
His channel'd brow; low murmurs stir by fits
And dark below the horrid Faquir sits--
An Horror from its broad Head's branching wreath
Broods o'er the rude Idolatry beneath--

1806-7. Now first published from an MS.

Let Eagle bid the Tortoise sunward soar--
As vainly Strength speaks to a broken Mind.[1001:1]

1807. First published in _Thomas Poole and His Friends_, 1888, ii. 195.

The body,
Eternal Shadow of the finite Soul,
The Soul's self-symbol, its image of itself.
Its own yet not itself.

Now first published from an MS.

Or Wren or Linnet,
In Bush and Bushet;
No tree, but in it
A cooing Cushat.

May 1807. Now first published from an MS.

The reed roof'd village still bepatch'd with snow
Smok'd in the sun-thaw.

1798. Now first published from an MS. Compare _Frost at Midnight_, ll. 69-70, _ante_, p. 242.

And in Life's noisiest hour
There whispers still the ceaseless love of thee,
The heart's self-solace } and soliloquy.
commune }

1807. Now first published from an MS.

You mould my Hopes you fashion me within:
And to the leading love-throb in the heart,
Through all my being, through my pulses beat;
You lie in all my many thoughts like Light,
Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve,
On rippling stream, or cloud-reflecting lake;
And looking to the Heaven that bends above you,
How oft! I bless the lot that made me love you.

1807. Now first published from an MS.

And my heart mantles in its own delight.

Now first published from an MS.

The spruce and limber yellow-hammer
In the dawn of spring and sultry summer,
In hedge or tree the hours beguiling
With notes as of one who brass is filing.

1807. Now first published from an MS.

FRAGMENT OF AN ODE ON NAPOLEON

O'erhung with yew, midway the Muses mount
From thy sweet murmurs far, O Hippocrene!
Turbid and black upboils an angry fount
Tossing its shatter'd foam in vengeful spleen--
Phlegethon's rage Cocytus' wailings hoarse
Alternate now, now mixt, made known its headlong course:
Thither with terror stricken and surprise,
(For sure such haunts were ne'er to Muse's choice)
Euterpe led me. Mute with asking eyes
I stood expectant of her heavenly voice.
Her voice entranc'd my terror and made flow
In a rude understrain the maniac fount below.
'Whene'er (the Goddess said) abhorr'd of Jove
Usurping Power his hands in blood imbrues--

? 1808. Now first published from an MS.

The singing Kettle and the purring Cat,
The gentle breathing of the cradled Babe,
The silence of the Mother's love-bright eye,
And tender smile answering its smile of Sleep.

1803. First published from an MS. in 1893.

Two wedded hearts, if ere were such,
Imprison'd in adjoining cells,
Across whose thin partition-wall
The builder left one narrow rent,
And where, most content in discontent,
A joy with itself at strife--
Die into an intenser life.

1808. First published from an MS. in 1893.

ANOTHER VERSION

The builder left one narrow rent,
Two wedded hearts, if ere were such,
Contented most in discontent,
Still there cling, and try in vain to touch!
O Joy! with thy own joy at strife,
That yearning for the Realm above
Wouldst die into intenser Life,
And Union absolute of Love!

1808. First published from an MS. in 1893.

Sole Maid, associate sole, to me beyond
Compare all living creatures dear--
Thoughts, which have found their harbour in thy heart
Dearest! _me_ thought of _him_ to thee so dear!

1809. First published from an MS. in 1893.

EPIGRAM ON KEPLER

FROM THE GERMAN

No mortal spirit yet had clomb so high
As Kepler--yet his Country saw him die
For very want! the _Minds_ alone he fed,
And so the _Bodies_ left him without bread.

1799. First published in _The Friend_, Nov. 30, 1809 (1818, ii. 95; 1850, ii. 69). First collected _P. and D. W._, 1877, ii. 374.

LINENOTES:

[1] spirit] Genius MS.

[2] yet] and MS.

[3] _Minds_] _Souls_ MS. erased.

When Hope but made Tranquillity be felt:
A flight of Hope for ever on the wing
But made Tranquillity a conscious thing;
And wheeling round and round in sportive coil,
Fann'd the calm air upon the brow of Toil.

1810. First published from an MS. in 1893.

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The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Vol 1 and 2Chapter LXXXVI: Act IV: Scene I (2)

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