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of his friends, he would talk by the hour, and though in these conversational monologues' he resembled rather than approached his father, he delivered himself with a luminous wisdom all his own. He edited the works of his father, his brother, and of his two friends, Winthrop Mackworth Praed and John Moultrie. Of his sister Sara, it has been said that her father looked down into her eyes, and left in them the light of his own.' Her beauty and grace were as remarkable as her talents, her learning, and her accomplishments; but her chief characteristic was *the radiant spirituality of her intellectual and imaginative being.' This, with other rare qualities of mind and spirit, is indicated in Wordsworth's affectionate appreciation in The Triad, and conspicuous in her fairy-tale Phantasmion, and in the letters which compose the bulk of her Memoirs.

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POEMS

GENEVIEVE

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Maid of my Love, sweet Genevieve ! In Beauty's light you glide along : Your eye is like the star of eve, And sweet your voice as seraph's song. Yet not your heavenly beauty gives This heart with passion soft to glow : Within your soul a voice there lives ! It bids you hear the tale of woe. When sinking low the sufferer wan Beholds no hand outstretcht to save, Fair, as the bosom of the swan That rises graceful o'er the wave, I've seen your breast with pity heave, And therefore love I you, sweet Genevieve ! ]

1786.

Whilst total darkness overspreads the

skies ; Save when the lightnings darting winged

Fate Quick bursting from the pitchy clouds

between In forked Terror, and destructive state 1 Shall shew with double gloom the horrid

scene.

DURA NAVIS

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To tempt the dangerous deep, too ven

turous youth, Why does thy breast with fondest wishes

glow? No tender parent there thy cares shall

sooth No much-lov'd Friend shall share thy

every woe. Why does thy mind with hopes delusive

burn ? Vain are thy Schemes by heated Fancy

plann'd : Thy promised joy thou'lt see to Sorrow turn Exild from Bliss, and from thy native

land.

1 State, Grandeur, This school exercise written in the 15th year of my age does not contain a line that any clever schoolboy might not have written, and like most school poetry is a Putting of Thought into Verse ; for such Verses as strivings of mind and struggles after the Intense and Vivid are a fair Promise of better things.-S. T. C. ætat sua 51. (1823.)

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Shall dash thy mangled limbs with furious

shock And stain its craggy sides with human

blood. Yet not the tempest, or the whirlwind's roar Equal the horrors of a Naval Fight, When thundering Cannons spread a sea

of Gore And varied deaths now fire and now

aftright: The impatient shout, that longs for closer

war, Reaches from either side the distant

shores; Whilst frightend at His streams en

sanguin'd far Loud on his troubled bed huge Ocean

roars. 1

Should'st thou escape the fury of that day A fate more cruel still, unhappy, view. Opposing winds may stop thy luckless

way, And spread fell famine through the suf

fering crew, Canst thou endure th' extreme of raging

Thirst Which soon may scorch thy throat, ah !

thoughtless Youth ! Or ravening hunger canst thou bear which

erst Onits own flesh hath fix'd the deadly tooth? Dubious and futtering'twixt hope and fear With trembling hands the lot I see thee

draw, Which shall, or sentence thee a victim

drear, To that ghaunt Plague which savage

knows no law : Or, deep thy dagger in the friendly heart, Whilst each strong passion agitates thy

breast : Though oft with Horror back I see thee

start Lo! Hunger drives thee to th' inhuman

feast.

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These are the ills, that may the course

attend Then with the joys of home contented

rest Hlere, meek-eyed Peace with humble

Plenty lend Their aid united still, to make thee blest. To ease each pain, and to increase each joy

61 Here mutual Love shall fix thy tender wise Whose offspring shall thy youthful care

employ And gild with brightest rays the evening of thy Life.

1787 MS. NIL PEJUS EST CÆLIBE VITÂ

[IN CHRIST'S HOSPITAL BOOK]

11 well remember old Jemmy Bowyer, the 'plagosus Orbilius' of Christ's Hospital, but an admirable educer no less than Educator of the Intellect, bade me leave out as many epithets as would turn the whole into eight-syllable lines, and then ask myself if the exercise would not be greatly improved. How often have I thought of the proposal since then, and how many thousand bloated and puffing lines have I read, that, by this process, would have tripped over the tongue excellently. Likewise, I remember that he told me on the same occasion-Coleridge! the con. nections of a Declamation are not the transitions of Poetry-bad, however, as they are they are better than "Apostrophes " and "O thou's," for at the worst they are something like common

The others are the grimaces of Lunacy.' .-S. T. COLERIDGE.

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sense.

What pleasures shall he ever find ? What joys shall ever glad his heart?

Or who shall heal his wounded mind, If tortur'd by misfortune's smart? Who Hymeneal bliss will never prove, That more than friendship,( friendship Sails, like a meteor kindling in its flight. mix'd with love.)

1788.

II

Then without child or tender wife,
To drive away each care, each sigh,
Lonely he treads the paths of life
A stranger to Affection's tye:
And when from death he meets his final
doom

No mourning wife with tears of love shall wet his tomb.

III

Tho' Fortune, riches, honours, pow'r,
Had giv'n with every other toy,
Those gilded trifles of the hour,

Those painted nothings sure to cloy :
He dies forgot, his name no son shall bear
To shew the man so blest once breath'd
the vital air.

1787.

MS.

SONNET ✓

TO THE AUTUMNAL MOON

MILD Splendour of the various-vested
Night!

Mother of wildly-working visions! hail!
I watch thy gliding, while with watery
light
Thy weak eye glimmers through a fleecy
veil ;
And when thou lovest thy pale orb to
shroud

But soon emerging in her radiant might
She o'er the sorrow-clouded breast of
Care

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Behind the gathered blackness lost on high;

And when thou dartest from the windrent cloud

Thy placid lightning o'er the awakened sky.

Ah such is Hope! as changeful and as fair!

To heal the wounded, and to raise the low.

She comes! she comes! the meekeyed power I see

With liberal hand that loves to bless;

The clouds of sorrow at her presence flee;

Rejoice! rejoice! ye children of distress!

The beams that play around her head Thro' Want's dark vale their radiance spread:

Now dimly peering on the wistful sight;

Now hid behind the dragon-winged The young uncultured mind imbibes the

Despair :

ray,

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warm ;

And Vice reluctant quits th' expected | The strange misfortunes, oh! what words prey.

can tell ?

Tell! ye neglected sylphs! who lap.dogs Cease, thou lorn mother ! cease thy Why snatch'd ye not away your precious

guard, wailings drear;

ward ? Ye babes! the unconscious sob

Why suffer'd ye the lover's weight to fall forego;

On the ill-fated neck of much-loved Ball ? Or let full gratitude now prompt the

The favourite on his mistress casts his tear

eyes, Which erst did sorrow force to flow.

Gives a short melancholy howl, and Unkindly cold and tempest shrill

dies. In life's morn ost the traveller chill,

Sacred his ashes lie, and long his rest! But soon his path the sun of Love shall

Anger and grief divide poor Julia's breast.

Her eyes she fixt on guilty Florio first : And each glad scene look brighter for the

On him the storm of angry grief must storm!

1789.

burst.

The storm he fled: he wooes a kinder JULIA

fair,

Whose fond affections no dear puppies [IN CHRIST'S HOSPITAL BOOK]

share.

'Twere vain to tell, how Julia pin'd away: Medio de fonte leporum Surgit amari aliquid.

Unhappy Fair ! that in one luckless

dayJULIA was blest with beauty, wit, and From future Almanacks the day becrost!grace:

At once her Lover and her Lap-dog lost. Small poets loved to sing her blooming

2789. face. Before her altars, lo! a numerous train Preferr'd their vows; yet all preferr'd in

QUÆ NOCENT DOCENT vain,

(IN CHRIST'S HOSPITAL BOOK] Till charming Florio, born to conquer,

O! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos ! And touch'd the fair one with an equal Oh! might my ill-past hours return flame.

again! The flame she felt, and ill could she con- No more, as then, should Sloth around ceal

me throw What every look and action would reveal.

Her soul-enslaving, leaden chain ! With boldness then, which seldom fails No more the precious time would I to move,

employ He pleads the cause of Marriage and of In giddy revells, or in thoughtless joy, Love:

A present joy producing future woe. The course of Hymeneal joys he rounds, The fair one's eyes danc'd pleasure at the But o'er the midnight Lamp I'd love to sounds.

pore, Nought now remain'd but Noes'-how I'd seek with care fair Learning's depths little meant !

to sound, (And the sweet coyness that endears con- And gather scientific Lore: sent.

Or to mature the embryo thoughts inThe youth upon his knees enraptur'd fell: clin'd,

came

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