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'Tis hard on Bagshot Heath to try
Unclosed to keep the weary eye;
But ah! Oblivion's nod to get
In rattling coach is harder yet.
Slumbrous God of half-shut eye!
Who lovest with limbs supine to lie;
Soother sweet of toil and care
Listen, listen to my prayer;
And to thy votary dispense
Thy soporific influence !
What tho' around thy drowsy head
The seven-fold cap of night be spread,
Yet list that drowsy head awhile
And yawn propitiously a smile;
In drizzly rains poppean dews
O'er the tired inmates of the Coach

And when thou'st charm'd our eyes to rest
Pillowing the chin upon the breast,
Bid many a dream from thy dominions
Wave its various-painted pinions,
Till ere the splendid visions close
We snore quartettes in ecstasy of nose.
While thus we urge our airy course,
O may no jolt's electric force
Our fancies from their steeds unhorse,
And call us from thy fairy reign
To dreary Bagshot Heath again!

Curst road! whose execrable way
Was darkly shadow'd out in Milton's

lay, (When the sad fiends thro? Hell's

sulphureous roads Took the first survey of their new

abodes; Or when the fall’n Archangel fierce Dared through the realms of Night to

pierce, What time the Bloodhound lured by

Human scent Thro' all Confusion's quagmires flounder

ing went. Nor cheering pipe, nor Bird's shrill note Around thy dreary paths shall float; Their boding songs shall scritch-owls pour To fright the guilty shepherds sore, Led by the wandering fires astray Thro' the dank horrors of thy way! While they their mud-lost sandals hunt May all the curses, which they grunt In raging moan like goaded hog, Alight upon thee, damned Bog!



SWEET Muse! companion of my every

hour! Voice of my Joy! Sure soother of the

sigh! Now plume thy pinions, now exert each

power, And fly to him who owns the candid eye.



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The indignant Bard composed this

furious ode, As tired he dragg'd his way thro' Plimtree

road ! Crusted with filth and stuck in mire Dull sounds the Bard's bemudded

lyre; Nathless Revenge and Ire the Poet

goad To pour his imprecations on the road.


HENCE, soul-dissolving Harmony

That lead'st th' oblivious soul astrayThough thou sphere-descended be

Hence away !

Thou mightier Goddess, thou demand'st

my lay, Born when earth was seized with

Or as more sapient sages say,
What time the Legion diabolic

Compell’d their beings to enshrine
In bodies vile of herded swine,
Precipitate adown the steep
With hideous rout were plunging

in the deep,
And hog and devil mingling grunt and

yell Seized on the ear with horrible ob

trusion ;Then if aright old legendaries tell, Wert thou begot by Discord on Con


Yet here her pensive ghost delights

to stay ; Oft pouring on the winds the broken

layAnd hark, I hear her—'twas the passing

blast. I love to sit upon her tomb's dark grass, Then Memory backward rolls Time's

shadowy tide; The tales of other days before me

glide : With eager thought I seize them as they

pass ; For fair, tho' faint, the forms of Memory

gleam, Like Heaven's bright beauteous bow reflected in the stream.

? 1790.


What though no name's sonorous power
Was given thee at thy natal hour ! -
Yet oft I feel thy sacred might,
While concords wing their distant flight.
Such power inspires thy holy son

Sable clerk of Tiverton.
And oft where Otter sports his stream,
I hear thy banded offspring scream.
Thou Goddess ! thou inspir’st each

throat ;
'Tis thou who pour'st the scritch-owl

note !
Transported hear'st thy children all
Scrape and blow and squeak and squall,
And while old Otter's steeple rings,
Clappest hoarse thy raven wings!

O MEEK attendant of Sol's setting blaze,
I hail, sweet star, thy chaste effulgent

On thee full oft with fixed eye gaze
Till I, methinks, all spirit seem to

grow. O first and fairest of the starry choir, O loveliest 'mid the daughters of the

Must not the maid I love like thee inspire

Pure joy and calm Delight?
Must she not be, as is thy placid sphere
Serenely brilliant? Whilst to gaze a

Be all my wish 'mid Fancy's high career

E'en till she quit this scene of earthly



toil ;



WITHIN these wilds was Anna wont to Then Hope perchance might sondly sigh

to join While Harland told his love in many Her spirit in thy kindred orb, O star a sigh,


1 1790. But stern Harland rolled her brother's eye,

PAIN They fought, they fell- her brother and her love!

ONCE could the Morn's first beams, the

healthful breeze, To Death's dark house did grief-worn All Nature charm, and gay was every Anna haste,

hour :



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But ah! not Music's self, nor fragrant Nodding their heads in all the pomp bower

of woe : Can glad the trembling sense of wan Wide scatter round each deadly weed, disease.

And let the melancholy dirge complain, Now that the frequent pangs my frame (Whilst bats shall shriek and dogs shall assail,

howling run) Now that my sleepless eyes are sunk and His tea-kettle is spoilt and Coleridge dim,

is undone ! And seas of pain seem waving through each limb

Your cheerful song, ye unseen crickets, | Ah what can all Life's gilded scenes avail?)

cease! I view the crowd, whom youth and health

Let songs of grief your alter'd minds inspire,

engage ! Hear the loud laugh, and catch the For he who sang responsive to your sportive lay,

lay, Then sigh and think I too could laugh What time the joyous bubbles 'gan to and play

play, And gaily sport it on the Muse's lyre, The sooty swain has felt the fire's fierce Ere Tyrant Pain had chased away delight,

rage ;Ere the wild pulse throbb’d anguish thro' Yes, he is gone, and all my woes the night!

? 1790.

increase ;

I heard the water hissing from the ON A LADY WEEPING


No more the Tea shall throw its fragrant IMITATION FROM THE LATIN OF

steam around ! NICOLAUS ARCHIUS

O Goddess best beloved ! Delightful LOVELY gems of radiance meek

Tea !
Tumbling down my Laura's cheek,
As the streamlets silent glide

With whom compar'd what yields the

madd’ning Wine ? Thro' the meads' enameli'd pride, Pledges sweet of pious woe,

Sweet power ! that know'st to spread

the calm delight, Tears which Friendship taught to flow,

And the pure joy prolong to midmost Sparkling in yon humid light Love embathes his pinions bright :


Ah! must I all thy various charms There amid the glitt’ring show'r

resign? As some winged Warbler oft

Enfolded close in grief thy form I see When spring-clouds shed their treasures

No more wilt thou expand thy willing soft

arms, Joyous tricks his plumes anew,

Receive the fervent Jove, and yield him And flutters in the fost’ring dew. MS.

? 1790.

all thy charms !

How low the mighty sink by Fate MONODY ON A TEA-KETTLE

opprest ! Muse that late sang another's poignant Perhaps, O Kettle ! thou by scornful pain,

toe To griess domestic turn thy coal-black Rude urg'd t'ignoble place with plaintsteed !

ive din, In slowest steps the funeral steeds May'st rust obscure midst heaps of

vulgar tin ;

shall go,

ere then


As if no joy had ever chear’d my My woes, my joys unshared! Ah! long

breast When from thy spout the stream did On me thy icy dart, stern Death, be arching flow,-

proved ;As if, inspir'd, thou ne'er hadst known Better to die, than live and not be loved ! t' inspire

1790. All the warm raptures of poetic fire !

ON SEEING A YOUTH AFFECBut hark! or do I fancy Georgian


A SISTER •What tho its form did wondrous charms disclose

I too a sister had ! too cruel Death ! (Not such did Memnon's sister sable

How sad remembrance bids my bosom

heave! drest) Take these bright arms with royal

Tranquil her soul, as sleeping Infant's face imprest,


Meek were her manners as a vernal A better Kettle shall thy soul rejoice, And with Oblivion's wing o'erspread

Eve. thy woes !'

Knowledge, that frequent lifts the

bloated mind, Thus Fairy Hope can soothe distress and toil ;

Gave her the treasure of a lowly breast,

And Wit to venom'd Malice oft On empty Trivets she bids fancied Kettles boil !

assign’d, Dwelt in her bosom in a Turtle's nest. Cease, busy Memory ! cease to urge

the dart ; ON RECEIVING* AN ACCOUNT Nor on my soul her love to THAT HIS ONLY SISTER'S


For oh I mourn in anguish-and my

heart The tear which mourn'd a brother's fate

Feels the keen pang, th' unutterable

distress. scarce dry

Yet wherefore grieve I that her sorrows Pain after pain, and woe succeeding


For Life was misery, and the Grave is Is my heart destined for another blow ?


? 1742. O my sweet sister ! and must thou too

die ? Ah! how has Disappointment pour'd A MATHEMATICAL PROBLEM

the tear O'er infant Hope destroy'd by early frost ! If Pegasus will let thee only ride him, How are ye gone, whom most my soul

Spurning my clumsy efforts to o'erstride him, held dear!

Some fresh expedient the Muse will try,

And walk on stilts, although she cannot fly. Scarce had I loved you ere I mourn'd you lost;

TO THE REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE Say, is this hollow eye, this heartless pain,

DEAR BROTHER, Fated to rove thro' Life's wide cheerless I have often been surprised that plain

Mathematics, the quintessence of Truth, Nor father, brother, sister meet its ken- | should have found admirers so few and






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so languid. Frequent consideration and minute scrutiny have at length unravelled From the centre A. at the distance A. B. the cause ; viz. that though Reason is Describe the circle B. C. D. feasted, Imagination is starved ; whilst At the distance B. A. from B. the centre Reason is luxuriating in its proper Para- The round A. C. E. to describe boldly dise, Imagination is wearily travelling on

venture. a dreary desert. To assist Reason by

(Third postulate see.) the stimulus of Imagination is the design And from the point C. of the following production. In the In which the circles make a pother execution of it much may be objection- Cutting and slashing one another, able. The verse (particularly in the Bid the straight lines a journeying introduction of the ode) may be accused

go. of unwarrantable liberties, but they are C. A. C. B. those lines will show. liberties equally homogeneal with the To the points, which by A. B. are exactness of Mathematical disquisition,

reckon'd, and the boldness of Pindaric daring. I And postulate the second have three strong champions to defend For Authority ye know. me against the attacks of Criticism : the

A. B. C. Novelty, the Difficulty, and the Utility

Triumphant shall be of the work. I may justly plume myself An Equilateral Triangle, that I first have drawn the nymph Not Peter Pindar carp, nor Zoilus can Mathesis from the visionary caves of

wrangle. abstracted idea, and caused her to unite with Harmony. The first-born of this Union I now present to you ; with inter- Because the point A. is the centre ested motives indeed—as I expect to

Of the circular B. C. D. receive in return the more valuable off- And because the point B. is the centre spring of your Muse.

Of the circular A. C. E.

A. C. to A. B. and B. C. to B. A. (Christ's HOSPITAL), March 31, 1791.

S. T. C. Harmoniously equal for ever must stay ;

Then C. A. and B, C.
This is now-this was erst,

Both extend the kind hand
Proposition the first—and Problem the

To the basis, A. B. first.

Unambitiously join'd in Equality's


But to the same powers, when two powers On a given finite line

are equal, Which must no way incline ;

My mind forbodes the sequel ; To describe an equi

My mind does some celestial impulse -lateral Tri

-A, N, G, L, E.

And equalises each to each.
Now let A. B.

Thus C. A. with B. C. strikes the same
Be the given line

sure alliance, Which must no way incline ;

That C. A. and B. C. had with A. B. The great Mathematician

before ;
Makes this Requisition,

And in mutual affiance
That we describe an Equi-

None attempting to soar - lateral Tri

Above another,
-angle on it :

The unanimous three
Aid us, Reason-aid us, Wit!

C. A. and B, C. and A. B.

Thine ever,




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