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Truth lies entrapp'd where Cunning finds no bar:

Since no proportion can there be betwixt Our actions which in endless motions are, And ordinances which are always fixt. Ten thousand Laws more cannot reach so far,

But Malice goes beyond, or lives com


So close with Goodness, that it ever will Corrupt, disguise, or counterfeit it still.

And therefore would our glorious Alfred, who

Join'd with the King's, the good man's Majesty,

Not leave Law's labyrinth without a clue

Gave to deep Skill its just authority,



BLIND is that soul which from this truth can swerve,

No state stands sure, but on the grounds of right,

Of virtue, knowledge; judgment to pre


And all the powers of learning requisite ? Though other shifts a present turn may


Yet in the trial they will weigh too light. DANIEL.

Motto to Chapter XVI. as above, 1818, i. 190.


O BLESSED Letters ! that combine in one All ages past, and make one live with all: By you do we confer with who are gone, And the dead-living unto council call! By you the unborn shall have communion Of what we feel and what doth us befall.

Since writings are the veins, the arteries, And undecaying life strings of those hearts,

That still shall pant and still shall exercise

Their mightiest powers when nature none imparts,

The strong constitution of their praise Wear out the infection of distemper'd days. DANIEL'S Musophilus.

Motto to Chapter I. of 'The Landing Place' in The Friend, 1818, i. 215.

[The first passage is from Daniel's Epistle to Sir Thomas Egerton; the second and third from his Musophilus ; but Coleridge has so altered, transposed, and rewritten all three that they are more

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[This passage is from the first of the Conciones ad Populum, lectures delivered at Bristol, February 1795, and published there in the same year. Coleridge reprinted the lecture in The Friend (1818, ii. 248; 1850, ii. 179). The first quotation is really from Paradise Regained, iii. 50; but the second contains only a few words of Milton, which will be found in two disconnected passages in Samson Agonistes-[Woman is to man]

A cleaving mischief, in his way to virtue Adverse and turbulent (11. 1039-40): and

Yet so it may fall out, because their end Is hate, not help to me.



Then we may thank ourselves Who spell-bound by the magic name of Peace

Dream golden dreams. Go, warlike Briton, go,

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[Although it was by inadvertence that these lines were printed in the Remains as Coleridge's, they have been so often included in his works that I am fain to retain them here as his by adoption. The title is his. The verses form part of a

poem by Robert Southwell, Tymes goe by Turnes. The text here printed is that found in Saint Peter's Complaint. With other Poems. London, 1599.-ED.]


I yet remain

To mourn the hours of youth (yet mourn in vain)

That fled neglected: wisely thou hast trod

The better path—and that high meed which God

Assign'd to Virtue tow'ring from the dust, Shall wait thy rising, Spirit pure and just !

O God! how sweet it were to think, that all

Who silent mourn around this gloomy ball Might hear the voice of joy ;-but 'tis the will

Of man's great Author, that thro' good and ill

Calm he should hold his course, and so sustain

His varied lot of pleasure, toil and pain!

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in the Chapel of Jesus College, Cambridge.' The first six lines are taken from W. L. Bowles's Monody on Henry Headley, and although the remaining stanza does not appear in any of the many editions of Bowles's poems I have been able to consult, it probably originally belonged to the same poem.-ED.]


RID of a vexing and a heavy load,1 Eternal Lord! and from the world set free,

Like a frail Bark, weary I turn to Thee From frightful storms into a quiet road-On much repentance Grace will be bestow'd.

The nails, the thorn, and thy two hands, thy face

Benign, meek, [word illegible] offers grace To sinners whom their sins oppress and goad.

Let not thy justice view, O Light divine! My faults, and keep it from thy sacred ear [A line almost entirely illegible.]

Cleanse with thy blood my sins, to this

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1 See The Complete Poetical Works of Wordsworth (p. 761, "At Florence-From M. Angelo"). London: Macmillan and Co.



The following is the original version of this poem as printed in the Morning Post, March 10, 1798. There was no title, the verses being introduced solely by the burlesque letter, which was reprinted with the verses when they next appeared, in the ANNUAL ANTHOLOGY, 1800, under the title, The Raven.

'SIR,-I am not absolutely certain that the following Poem was written by Edmund Spenser, and found by an Angler buried in a fishingbox :

"Under the foot of Mole, that mountain hoar,

Mid the green alders, by the Mulla's shore"; but a learned Antiquarian of my acquaintance has given it as his opinion that it resembles Spenser's minor Poems as nearly as Vortigern and Rowena the Tragedies of William Shakespeare. This Poem must be read in recitative, in the same manner as the gloga Secunda of the Shepherd's Calendar. CUDDY.'

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By the side of a river both deep and great.
Where then did the Raven go?
He went high and low,

O'er hill, o'er dale did the black Raven go!

Many Autumns, many Springs
Travell'd he with wand'ring wings;
Many Summers, many Winters-

I can't tell half his adventures.

At length he return'd, and with him a She,

And the acorn was grown to a large oak


They built them a nest in the topmost bough,

And young ones they had, and were jolly


But soon came a Woodman in leathern guise:

His brow like a pent-house hung over his eyes.

He'd an axe in his hand, and nothing


But with many a hem! and a sturdy


At last he brought down the poor Raven's own oak.

His young ones were kill'd; for they could

not depart,

And his wife she did die of a broken heart!

The branches from off it the Woodman did sever!

And they floated it down on the course of the River:

They sawed it to planks, and its rind they

did strip,

And with this tree and others they built up a ship.

The ship, it was launch'd; but in sight of the land

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In maximis Comitiis, Jul. 3, 1792.

Ω σκότω πύλας, Θάνατε, προλείπων Ες γένος σπεύδων ἴθι ζεύχθεν ἄτα Οὐ ξενισθήσῃ γενύων σπαράγμοις Οὐδ ̓ ὀλολύγμῳ,

̓Αλλὰ δ ̓ αὖ κύκλοισι χοροιτύποισιν
Κ ̓ ἀσμάτων χαρῇ· Φοβερὸς μὲν ἐσσὶ,
̓Αλλ' όμως Ελευθερίᾳ συνοικεῖς,
Στυγνὲ Τύραννε.

Δασκίοις τοῦ αἰρόμενοι πτεροῖσι
Τραχὺ μακρῶ Ὠκεανῶ δι ̓ οἶδμα
̓Αδονᾶν φίλας ἐς ἕδρας πέτωμαι,
Γᾶν τε πατρῴαν

Ενθα μὰν ἔρασται ἐρωμένῃσιν, ̓́Αμπι κρουνοῖσιν κιτρίων ὑπ ̓ ἀλσῶν, Ολα πρὸς βροτῶν ἔπαθον βροτοὶ, τὰ Δεινὰ λέγοντι.

Φεῦ κόρω Νάσοι φονίω γέμουσαι
Δυσθεάτοις ἀμφιθαλεῖς κακοῖσι,
Πᾶ νοσεῖ Λιμὸς, βρέμεταί τε πλάγα

̓Αμμέων ἴω· ποσάκις προσῇξεν
Οππάτεσσι δακρυόεσσ ̓ ὀμίχλη,
Ποσσάκις χ' ἅμα κραδία στέναξεν !
Αἰνοπαθεῖ γὰρ



Δουλίᾳ γέννα βαρέως συναλγώ,
Ως ἀφωνήτῳ στεναχεῦντι πένθει,
Ως πόνων δίναις στυγέρων κυκλεῦνται
Τέκνα Ανάγκας.

̓Αμέρῃσ ̓ ἔπει γ ̓ ἀφίλῃσιν ἄμπι
Καῦμα, καὶ Λοιμὸς, Κάματός τ' ἄφερτος
Μάρναται, καὶ Μναμοσύνας τὰ πικρά 31
Φάσματα λυγρᾶς.

Φεῦ κάμοντας Μάστις ἄγρυπνος ὀρμᾷ,
Αλιον πρὶν ἂν ἐπέγειρεν ̓́Αως
Κ' "Αματος δύνει γλυκύδερκες ἄστρον,
Πένθεα δ' ἀνθεῖ

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