As if no joy had ever chear'd my breast When from thy spout the stream did arching flow,- As if, inspir'd, thou ne'er hadst known t' inspire All the warm raptures of poetic fire! But hark or do I fancy Georgian voice 'What tho' its form did wondrous charms disclose (Not such did Memnon's sister sable drest) Take these bright arms with royal face imprest, A better Kettle shall thy soul rejoice, And with Oblivion's wing o'erspread thy woes!' Thus Fairy Hope can soothe distress and toil; On empty Trivets she bids fancied Kettles boil! 1790. ON RECEIVING AN ACCOUNT THAT HIS ONLY SISTER'S DEATH WAS INEVITABLE THE tear which mourn'd a brother's fate scarce dry Pain after pain, and woe succeeding woe Is my heart destined for another blow? O my sweet sister! and must thou too die? Ah! how has Disappointment pour'd the tear O'er infant Hope destroy'd by early frost! How are ye gone, whom most my soul held dear! Scarce had I loved you ere I mourn'd you lost; Say, is this hollow eye, this heartless pain, Fated to rove thro' Life's wide cheerless plain Nor father, brother, sister meet its ken ON SEEING A YOUTH AFFECTIONATELY WELCOMED BY A SISTER I TOO a sister had! too cruel Death! How sad remembrance bids my bosom heave! Tranquil her soul, as sleeping Infant's Meek were her manners as a vernal Knowledge, that frequent lifts the Gave her the treasure of a lowly breast, And Wit to venom'd Malice oft assign'd, Dwelt in her bosom in a Turtle's nest. Cease, busy Memory! cease to urge the dart; Nor on my soul her love to me impress! For oh I mourn in anguish--and my heart Feels the keen pang, th' unutterable distress. Yet wherefore grieve I that her sorrows cease, For Life was misery, and the Grave is Peace! ? 1792. A MATHEMATICAL PROBLEM TO THE REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE DEAR BROTHER, I have often been surprised that Mathematics, the quintessence of Truth, should have found admirers so few and so languid. Frequent consideration and minute scrutiny have at length unravelled the cause; viz. that though Reason is feasted, Imagination is starved; whilst Reason is luxuriating in its proper Paradise, Imagination is wearily travelling on a dreary desert. To assist Reason by the stimulus of Imagination is the design of the following production. In the execution of it much may be objectionable. The verse (particularly in the introduction of the ode) may be accused of unwarrantable liberties, but they are liberties equally homogeneal with the exactness of Mathematical disquisition, and the boldness of Pindaric daring. I have three strong champions to defend me against the attacks of Criticism: the Novelty, the Difficulty, and the Utility of the work. I may justly plume myself that I first have drawn the nymph Not A. B. C. Because the point A. is the centre Of the circular B. C. D. And because the point B. is the centre A. C. to A. B. and B. C. to B. A. Both extend the kind hand - How false, how vain are Man's pursuits Cut a friend's throat;-what cannot Ah me-the storm within can Honour still For Julio's death, whom Honour made me kill? Or will this lordly Honour tell the way To pay those debts, which Honour makes me pay? Or if with pistol and terrific threats I make some traveller pay my Honour's debts, A medicine for this wound can Honour give? Ah, no! my Honour dies to make my Honour live. But see! young Pleasure, and her train advance, And joy and laughter wake the inebriate dance; 50 Around my neck she throws her fair white arms, I meet her loves, and madden at her charms. For the gay grape can joys celestial move, And what so sweet below as Woman's love? |