a Elate of Heart and confident of Such was the sad and gloomy hour When anguish'd care of sullen brow From vales where Avon sports, the Prepared the Poison's death-cold power. Minstrel came, Already to thy lips was rais'd the bowl, Gay as the Poet hastes along When filial Pity stood thee by, He meditates the future song, Thy fixed eyes she bade thee roll 60 How Ælla battled with his country's On scenes that well might melt thy foes, soulAnd whilst Fancy in the air Thy native cot she held to view, Paints him many a vision fair Thy native cot, where Peace ere long His eyes dance raptúre and his bosom Had listen’d to thy evening song ; glows. Thy sister's shrieks she bade thee hear, With generous joy he views th’ ideal And mark thy mother's! thrilling tear, gold: She made thee feel her deep-drawn He listens to many a Widow's prayers, sigh, And many an Orphan's thanks he And all her silent agony of Woe. . hears ; He soothes to peace the care-worn And from thy Fate shall such distress breast, ensue? He bids the Debtor's eyes know | Ah ! dash the poison'd chalice from thy rest, hand! 70 And Liberty and Bliss behold : And thou had'st dash'd it at her soft And now he punishes the heart of steel, command; And her own iron rod he makes Op- But that Despair and Indignation rose, pression feel. And told again the story of thy Woes, Told the keen insult of th' unfeeling Fated to heave sad Disappointment's Heart, sigh, 40 The dread dependence on the low-born To feel the Hope now rais’d, and now mind, deprest, Told every Woe, for which thy breast To feel the burnings of an injur’d might smart, breast, Neglect and grinning scorn and Want From all thy Fate's deep sorrow keen combin'd In vain, O Youth, I turn th' affrighted Recoiling back, thou sent'st the eye ; friend of Pain For powerful Fancy evernigh To roll a tide of Death thro' every freezThe hateful picture forces on my sight. ing vein. There, Death of every dear delight, Frowns Poverty of Giant mien ! O Spirit blest! 80 In vain I seek the charms of youthful Whether th' eternal Throne around, Amidst the blaze of Cherubim, grace, Thy sunken eye, thy haggard cheeks it Thou pourest forth the grateful shews, 50 [main, The quick emotions struggling in the Or, soaring through the blest DoFace Enraptur'st Angels with thy strain, Faint index of thy mental Throes, Grant me, like thee, the lyre to When each strong Passion spurn'd con sound, troll, Like thee, with fire divine to glowAnd not a Friend was nigh to calm thy But ah! when rage the Waves of stormy soul. Woe, 'Tis hard on Bagshot Heath to try diffuse; Curst road! whose execrable way lay, 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! 1790. AN INVOCATION 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. DEVONSHIRE ROADS And if a smile of Praise thy labour hail (Well shall thy labours then my mind employ) Fly fleetly back, sweet Muse! and with the tale [Joy! O'erspread my Features with a flush of MIS. 1790. 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. MUSIC 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 cholic; Compell’d their beings to enshrine in the deep, yell Seized on the ear with horrible ob trusion ;Then if aright old legendaries tell, Wert thou begot by Discord on Con fusion! 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 TO THE EVENING STAR O MEEK attendant of Sol's setting blaze, While concords wing their distant flight. I hail, sweet star, thy chaste effulgent Such power inspires thy holy son glow; Sable clerk of Tiverton. On thee full oft with fixed eye I gaze And oft where Otter sports his stream, Till I, methinks, all spirit seem to I hear thy banded offspring scream. grow. Thou Goddess ! thou inspir’st each O first and fairest of the starry choir, throat ; O loveliest 'mid the daughters of the 'Tis thou who pour'st the scritch-owl night, note ! Must not the maid I love like thee inspire Transported hear’st thy children all Pure joy and calm Delight ? Scrape and blow and squeak and squall, And while old Otter's steeple rings, Must she not be, as is thy placid sphere Clappest hoarse thy raven wings! Serenely brilliant ? Whilst to gaze a 1790. while Be all my wish ’mid Fancy's high career ANNA AND HARLAND E'en till she quit this scene of earthly toil; WITHIN these wilds was Anna wont to Then Hope perchance might fondly sigh rove to join While Harland told his love in many Her spirit in thy kindred orb, O star a sigh, benign ! ? 1790. But stern on 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 : I2 ON A LADY WEEPING-MONODY ON A TEA-KETTLE Nodding their heads in all the pomp of woe : Wide scatter round each deadly weed, And let the melancholy dirge complain, (Whilst bats shall shriek and dogs shall howling run) His tea-kettle is spoilt and Coleridg is undone ! But ah ! not Music's self, nor fragrant bower Can glad the trembling sense of wan disease. Now that the frequent pangs my frame assail, Now that my sleepless eyes are sunk and dim, And seas of pain seem waving through each limbAh what can all Life's gilded scenes avail? I view the crowd, whom youth and health inspire, Hear the loud laugh, and catch the sportive lay, Then sigh and think—I too could laugh and play And gaily sport it on the Muse's lyre, Ere Tyrant Pain had chased away delight, Ere the wild pulse throbb’d anguish thro' the night! ? 1790. ON A LADY WEEPING IMITATION FROM THE LATIN OF NICOLAUS ARCHIUS Your cheerful song, ye unseen crickets cease ! Let songs of grief your alter'd minds engage ! For he who sang responsive to your lay, What time the joyous bubbles 'gan to play, The sooty swain has felt the fire's fierce rage ; Yes, he is gone, and all my woes increase ; I heard the water hissing from the wound No more the Tea shall throw its fragrant steam around ! Tea! madd’ning Wine? the calm delight, And the pure joy prolong to midmost night! Ah! must I all thy various charms resign? Enfolded close in grief thy form I see No more wilt thou expand thy willing arms, Receive the fervent Jove, and yield him all thy charms ! LOVELY gems of radiance meek soft ? 1790. MONODY ON A TEA-KETTLE Muse that late sang another's poignant pain, To griefs domestic turn thy coal-black steed! In slowest steps the funeral steeds shall go, How low the mighty sink by Fate opprest !-Perhaps, O Kettle ! thou by scornful toe Rude urg'd t'ignoble place with plaint ive din, May’st rust obscure midst heaps of vulgar tin ; As if no joy had ever chear'd my My woes, my joys unshared! Ah! long breast ere then 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 TIONATELY WELCOMED BY voice A SISTER What tho its form did wondrous charms disclose I too a sister had ! too cruel Death ! How sad remembrance bids my bosom (Not such did Memnon's sister sable heave! drest) Take these bright arms with royal Tranquil her soul, as sleeping Infant's breath ; face imprest, A better Kettle shall thy soul rejoice, Meek were her manners as a vernal 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. the dart ; ON RECEIVING AN ACCOUNT Nor on my soul her love to me THAT HIS ONLY SISTER'S impress! For oh I mourn in anguish—and my DEATH WAS INEVITABLE heart Feels the keen pang, th' unutterable The tear which mourn'd a brother's fate distress. scarce dry Yet wherefore grieve I that her sorrows Pain after pain, and woe succeeding cease, woe For Life was misery, and the Grave is Is my heart destined for another blow? Peace! 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 a ? 1742. |
