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Chronicle on the 20th, so that Coleridge 17, 1802, with the signature EETHEE': must have written his Ode with expedition. then in Sib. Leaves, etc. It had been The Duchess's poem was not printed as a composed two years before, and, possibly, book until 1802, and then only privately. with Dorothy Wordsworth in the poet's Writing to his mother on the 6th January mind, for ‘Emmeline' was Wordsworth's 1800, William Lamb (afterwards Lord poetical name for his sister. Constantly, Melbourne) says : 'I see the Passage of when Wordsworth had written 'Dorothy' St. Gothard has found its way into the in the drafts of his verses, he altered the newspapers, and from the correctness of name to ‘Emmeline' before sending the the text and length of the notes, I suppose MS. to the printer. by design of the author. I like it much The M.P. version lacked the first line better than I did when I saw it in MS. here ; and 1l. 18-21 ran thus :... The great fault is that a poem in
* In the cool morning twilight, early waked scribed to her children should begin with
By her full bosom's joyous restlessness, an address to Italy. She ought in justice to her children to have given them one or
Leaving the soft bed to her sister,
Softly she rose and lightly stole along, two stanzas more, for now they are tagged
Her fair face flushing in the purple dawn, on to the tail of a poem in which they
Adown the meadow to the woodbine seem to have no business' (Lord Mel
bower.' bourne's Papers, 1889, p. 10).
Coleridge reprinted the Ode in the Ann. In the list, frequently mentioned in these Anthol. for 1800, and in all the editions of Notes, this poem was entered as 'Forgethis Poems after that date.
me-not.' In his own copy of the A.A. he made some enendations with his pen. He struck
155. Lines to W. Linley, Esq., p. 155. out 11. 68-77, a sacrifice probably prompted by Lamb's remark, August 14, 1800 First printed in Annual Anthology, 1800, (Ainger's Letters, i. 130) By the bye, which led to its being placed among the where did you pick up that scandalous poems of that year. But I have since found. piece of private history about the Angel the original manuscript, which is dated and the Duchess of Devonshire? If it is a Donhead, Sept. 12, 1797. The lines fiction of your own, why truly 'tis a very are headed by Coleridge To Mr. William modest one for you.' But the 'scandal' Linley.' In the Ann. Anthol. the adwas not omitted in Sib. Leaves.
ditional heading was supplied, but only
with initials. The differences of text are 152. A Christmas Carol, p. 150. unimportant William Linley was the First printed in Morning Post, Dec. 25,
brother of the beautiful Mrs. Richard 1799; then in Ann. Anthol. 1800 ; and
Brinsley Sheridan, Sir Joshua's 'St. Cecilia.' afterwards in all editions of Coleridge's poems. The Carol was probably inspired 156. A Stranger Minstrel, p. 155. by the passage of Ottfried (p. 144).
First printed in Memoirs of the late Mrs. 153. Talleyrand to Lord Grenville, Robinson, written by herself. With some p. 151.
Posthumous Pieces, 1801, iv. 141 ; and,
again, in her Poetical Works, 1806, i. xlvii. I have thought it better to print this
The poem was first collected in ed. 1877-80. political squib verbatim et literatim as it
The verses were sent to Mrs. Robinfirst appeared, rather than to follow any of
son a few weeks before her death, which the slight changes introduced by the editor
took place on Dec. 28, 1800. of the reprint in Essays on his own Times
Mrs. Robinson was Perdita. Some (i. 233). "The verses were never reprinted time before her death she retired to a cotby Coleridge.
tage in the Lake country. Coleridge had
known her previously in London, and their 154. The Keepsake, p. 154.
mutual admiration was pronounced. ColeFirst printed in the Morning Post, Sept. ridge wrote to Poole (unpublished of
THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE
AN HISTORIC DRAMA
[First Act by Coleridge: Second and Third by Southey-1794.)
Methought he would have spoke- but ACT I
that he dar'd notSCENE--- The Thuilleries.
Such agitation darken’d on his brow.
Tallicn, 'Twas all - distrusting guilt Barrere. The tempest gathers-be it
that kept from bursting mine to seek
Th' imprison'd secret struggling in the A friendly shelter, ere it bursts upon him.
face : But where ? and how? I fear the Tyrant's E'en as the sudden breeze upstarting onsoul
wards Sudden in action, fertile in resource,
Hurries the thundercloud, that pois’d And rising awful ’mid impending ruins ;
a while In splendor gloomy, as the midnight Hung in mid air, red with its mutinous meteor,
burthen. That fearless thwarts the elemental war,
Legendre. Perfidious Traitor ! - still When last in secret conference we met,
afraid to bask He scowld upon me with suspicious | In the full blaze of power, the rustling rage,
serpent Making his eye the inmate of my bosom.
Lurks in the thicket of the Tyrant's I know he scorns me--and I feel, I hate
Ever prepared to sting who shelters him. Yet there is in him that which makes me
Each thought, each action in himself tremble !
And love and friendship on his coward Enter TALLIEN and LEGENDRE.
30 Tallien. It was Barrere, Legendre ! Shine like the powerless sun on polar ice; didst thou mark him ?
To all attach’d, by turns deserting all, Abrupt he turn’d, yet linger'd as he Cunning and dark—a necessary villain ! went,
Tallien. Yet much depends upon him And towards us cast a look of doubtful
-well you know meaning
With plausible harangue ’tis his to paint Legendre. I mark'd him well. I met Defeat like victory—and blind the mob his eye's last glance ;
With truth-mix'd falsehood.
They led It menac'd not so proudly as of yore.
on by him,
And wild of head to work their own Th’ Adonis Tallien ? banquet - hunting destruction,
Tallien ? Support with uproar what he plans in Him, whose heart flutters at the dicedarkness.
box? Him, Legendre. O what a precious name is Who ever on the harlots' downy pillow Liberty
40 Resigns his head impure to feverish To scare or cheat the simple into
slumbers ! slaves !
St. Just. I cannot fear him-yet we Yes—we must gain him over : by dark
must not scorn him. hints
Was it not Antony that conquer'd Brutus, We'll shew enough to rouse his watchful Th’ Adonis, banquet-hunting Antony ? 70 fears,
The state is not yet purified : and though Till the cold coward blaze a patriot. The stream runs clear, yet at the bottom 0 Danton ! murder'd friend ! assist my
The thick black sediment of all the facHover around me on sad memory's wings,
tions And pour thy daring vengeance in my It needs no magic hand to stir it up! heart.
Couthon. O we did wrong to spare Tallien ! if but to-morrow's fateful sun
them-fatal error ! Beholds the Tyrant living—we are dead! Why lived Legendre, when that Danton Tallien. Yet his keen eye that flashes
died ? mighty meanings
And Collot d'Herbois dangerous in Legendre. Fear not-or rather fear th'
crimes ? alternative,
I've fear'd him, since his iron heart And seek for courage e'en in cowardice
endured But see-hither he comes-let us away! To make of Lyons one vast human His brother with him, and the bloody
Compared with which the sun-scorcht And high of haughty spirit, young St.
Of Zara, were a smiling paradise.
St. Just. Rightly thou judgest, CouEnter ROBESPIERRE, COUTHON,
thon ! He is one St. Just, and ROBESPIERRE JUNIOR.
Who flies from silent solitary anguish,
Seeking forgetful peace amid the jar Robespierre. What ? did La Fayette Of elements. The howl of maniac upfall before my power?
roar And did I conquer Roland's spotless Lulls to sad sleep the memory of himself. virtues ?
A calm is fatal to him—then he feels The fervent eloquence of Vergniaud's | The dire upboilings of the storm within tongue ?
him. And Brissot's thoughtful soul unbribed A tiger mad with inward wounds!—I and bold ?
dread Did zealot armies haste in vain to save The fierce and restless turbulence of them?
90 What! did th' assassin's dagger aim its Robespierre, Is not the Commune ours? point
The stern tribunal ? Vain, as a dream of murder, at my Dumas ? and Vivier ? Fleuriot ? and bosom ?
Louvet? And shall I dread the soft luxurious And Henriot ? We'll denounce Tallien ?
Shall they behold to-morrow's sun roll Bidding the darts of calumny fall pointwestward.
less. Robespierre Junior. Nay-I am sick [Exeunt cæteri. Nlanet COUTHON. of blood ; my aching heart 1
Couthon (solus). So we deceive ourReviews the long, long train of hideous selves! What goodly virtues horrors
Bloom on the poisonous branches of That still have gloom'd the rise of the
ambition ! Republic.
Still, Robespierre ! thou'lt guard thy I should have died before Toulon, when
country's freedom war
To despotize in all the patriot's pomp. Became the patriot !
While Conscience, 'mid the mob’s apRobespierre. Most unworthy wish!
plauding clamours, He, whose heart sickens at the blood of Sleeps in thine ear, nor whispers—bloodtraitors,
stain'd tyrant ! Would be himself a traitor, were he not
Yet what is Conscience ? Superstition's A coward ! 'Tis congenial souls alone
dream, Shed tears of sorrow for each other's Making such deep impression on our fate.
sleepO thou art brave, my brother ! and thine That long th' awaken'd breast retains its eye
130 Full firmly shines amid the groaning But he returns--and with him comes battle
Barrere. [Exit CoUTHON. Yet in thine heart the woman-form of pity
Entor ROBESPIERRE and BARRERE. Asserts too large a share, an ill-timed guest !
Robespierre. There is no danger but There is unsoundness in the state--To
Barrere! we make the danger, when we Shall see it cleans'd by wholesome mas
fear it. sacre !
We have such force without, as will Robespierre Junior. Beware ! already suspend do the sections murmur
The cold and trembling treachery of O the great glorious patriot, Robes
these members. pierre
Barrere. 'Twill be a pause of terror.The tyrant guardian of the country's Robespierre.
But to whom ? freedom !
Rather the short-lived slumber of the Couthon. 'Twere folly sure to work
tempest, great deeds by halves !
Gathering its strength anew. The dasMuch I suspect the darksome fickle heart
tard traitors! Of cold Barrere !
Moles, that would undermine the rooted Robespierre. I see the villain in him!
oak ! Robespierre Junior. If he-if all for- | A pause !--a moment's pause ?—'Tis all sake thee-what remains ?
their life. Robespierre. Myself! the steel-strong Barrere. Yet much they talk -- and Rectitude of soul
plausible their speech. And Poverty sublime 'mid circling Couthon's decree has given such powers, virtues !
thatThe giant Victories my counsels form'd Robespierre. That what? Shall stalk around me with sun-glittering Barrere. The freedom of debateplumes,
Robespicrre. Transparent mask !
They wish to clog the wheels of govern- And when (O heavens !) in Lyons' death
ment, Forcing the hand that guides the vast Sick Fancy groan'd o'er putrid hills of machine
slain, To bribe them to their duty- English Didst thou not fiercely laugh, and bless patriots !
the day? Are not the congregated clouds of war Why, thou hast been the mouth-piece of Black all around us?
In our very
all horrors, vitals
And, like a blood-hound, crouch'd for Works not the king-bred poison of re
murder! Now bellion ?
Aloof thou standest from the tottering Say, what shall counteract the selfish
150 Or, like a frighted child behind its Of wretches, cold of heart, nor awed by
Hidest thy pale face in the skirts of — Of him, whose power directs th' eternal
Mercy ! justice ?
Barrere. O prodigality of eloquent Terror? or secret-sapping gold? The
anger ! first
Why now I see thou'rt weak—thy case Heavy, but transient as the ills that cause
is desperate ! it ;
The cool ferocious Robespierre turn'd And to the virtuous patriot rendered light
scolder ! By the necessities that gave it birth : Robespierre. Who from a bad man's The other fouls the fount of the republic,
bosom wards the blow Making it flow polluted to all ages : Reserves the whetted dagger for his Inoculates the state with a slow venom,
own. That once imbibed, must be continued Denounced twice--and twice I saved his ever.
life! Myself incorruptible I ne'er could bribe Barrere. The sections will support them-
them---there's the point ! Therefore they hate me.
No! he can never weather out the Barrere. Are the sections friendly ?
storm-Robespierre. There are who wish my Yet he is sudden in revenge-No more ! ruin-but I'll make them
I must away to Tallien.
[Exit. Blush for the crime in blood !
Barrcre. Nay-but I tell thee, Thou art too fond of slaughter-and the
SCENE changes to the house of ADELAIDE. right
ADELAIDE enters, speaking to a Servant. (If right it be) workest by most foul means !
Adelaide. Didst thou present the letter Robespierre. Self-centering Fear! how
that I gave thee?
191 well thou canst ape Mercy ! Did Tallien answer, he would soon Too fond of slaughter !--matchless hypo
Servant. He is in the ThuilleriesThought Barrere so, when Brissot, Dan
with him Legendreton died ?
In deep discourse they seem'd : as I Thought Barrere so, when through the approach'd streaming streets
He waved his hand as bidding me retire: Of Paris red-eyed Massacre o'er-wearied I did not interrupt him. Reeld heavily, intoxicate with blood ?
[Returns the letter.