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Hence for many a fearless age
Nor ever proud invader's rage
In the deep sabbath of meek self
content ; Cleansed from the vaporous passions that bedim
160 God's Image, sister of the Seraphim.
REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE At cowardly distance, yet kindling with pride
OF OTTERY ST. MARY, DEVON Mid thy herds and thy corn-fields secure
IVith some Poems thou hast stood,
Notus in fratres animi paterni. And join’d the wild yelling of Famine
Hor. Carn. lib. 1, 2. and Blood ! The nations curse thee! They with eager | A BLESSED lot hath he, who having wondering
passed Shall hear Destruction, like a vulture,
Ilis youth and early manhood in the stir scream!
140 And turmoil of the world, retreats at Strange-eyed Destruction ! who with
length, many a dream
With cares that move, not agitate the Of central fires through nether seas up
To the same dwelling where his father Soothes her fierce solitude ; yet as she
And haply views his tottering little ones By livid fount, or red volcanic stream,
Embrace those aged knees and climb If ever to her lidless dragon-eyes,
that lap, O Albion ! thy predestined ruins rise,
On which first kneeling his own infancy The fiend-hag on her perilous couch doth Lisped its brief prayer. Such, O my leap,
carliest friend ! Muttering distempered triumph in her Thy lot, and such thy brothers too charmed sleep.
10 At distance did ye climb life's upland
Yet cheered and cheering : now fraternal
days And hark! I hear the famished brood of Holy, and blest and blessing may ye prey
live ! Flap their lank pennons on the groaning wind !
To me the Eternal Wisdom hath disAway, my soul, away!
Too soon transplanted, ere my soul had Now I recentre my immortal mind
Its first domestic loves; and hence through Sorrowed in silence! He who counts life
alone Chasing chance-started friendships. A The beatings of the solitary heart, brief while
That Being knows, how I have loved Some have preserved me from life's pelt
50 ing ills;
Loved as a brother, as a son revered thee! But, like a tree with leaves of feeble stem, Oh! 'tis to me an ever new delight, If the clouds lasted, and a sudden breeze | To talk of thee and thine : or when the Ruffled the boughs, they on my head at
Of the shrill winter, rattling our rude Dropped the collected shower ; and
sash, some most false,
Endears the cleanly hearth and social False and fair-foliaged as the Manchineel, Have tempted me to slumber in their Or when as now, on some delicious eve, shade
We in our sweet sequestered orchard-plot E’en mid the storm ; then breathing Sit on the tree crooked earth-ward; whose subtlest damps,
old boughs, Mixed their own venom with the rain That hang above us in an arborous roof, from Ileaven,
Stirred by the faint gale of departing That I woke poisoned ! But, all praise May,
60 to Him
Send their loose blossoms slanting o’er Who gives us all things, more have
our heads ! yielded me Permanent shelter; and beside one friend, Nor dost not thou sometimes recall Beneath the impervious covert of one oak,
those hours, I've raised a lowly shed, and know the When with the joy of hope thou gavest names
thine ear Or IIusband and of Father; not unhearing To my wild firstling-lays. Since then Of that divine and nightly-whispering
my song voice,
Hath sounded deeper notes, such as Which from my childhood to maturer
Or that sad wisdom folly leaves behind, Spake to me of predestinated wreaths, Or such as, tuned to these tumultuous Bright with no fading colours !
Cope with the tempest's swell!
Yet at times My soul is sad, that I have roamed
These various strains, through life
Which I have framed in many a various Still most a stranger, most with naked
Accept, my Brother! and (for some At mine own home and birth-place :
70 chiefly then,
Will strike discordant on thy milder When I remember thee, my earliest
If aught of error or intemperate truth Thee, who didst watch my boyhood and Should meet thine ear, think thou that my youth;
riper age Didst trace my wanderings with a father's Will calm it down, and let thy love foreye ;
give it! And boding evil yet still hoping good,
NETHER-STOWEY, SOMERSET, Rebuked each fault, and over all my woes
May 26, 1797
ON THE CHRISTENING OF A
OF A LATIN INSCRIPTION BY THE REV.
W. L. BOWLES IN NETHER-STOWEY This day among the faithful placed
DEPART in joy from this world's noise and Dear Anna's dearest Anna !
To the deep quiet of celestial life! While others wish thee wise and fair,
Depart !- Affection's self reproves the tear A maid of spotless fame,
Which falls, O honour'd Parent ! on thy I'll breathe this more compendious
bier ; prayer
Yet Nature will be heard, the heart will May'st thou deserve thy name !
swell, Thy mother's name, a potent spell,
And the voice tremble with a last Farewell! That bids the Virtues hie
1797 From mystic grove and living cell, Confess'd to Fancy's eye ;
[The Tablet is erected to the Memory of
Richard Camplin, who died Jan. 20, Meek Quietness without offence;
1792. Content in homespun kirtle ;
Lætus abi! mundi strepitu curisque True Love; and True Love's Innocence, White Blossom of the Myrtle !
Laetus abi ! cæli quâ vocat alma Quies. Associates of thy name, sweet Child ! Ipsa fides loquitur lacrymamque incusat These Virtues may'st thou win ;
inanem, With face as eloquently mild
Quæ cadit in vestros, care Pater, Cineres. To say, they lodge within.
Heu ! tantum liceat meritos hos solvere
Ritus, So, when her tale of days all flown,
Naturæ et tremulâ dicere Voce, Vale !'] Thy mother shall be miss'd here ; When Heaven at length shall claim its own And Angels snatch their Sister;
THE FOSTER-MOTHER'S TALE
A DRAMATIC FRAGMENT
[From Osorio, Act IV. The title and text are
here printed from Lyrical Ballads, 1798.] Even thus a lovely rose I've view'd
Foster-Mother. I never saw the man In summer-swelling pride;
whom you describe. . Nor mark'd the bud, that green and rude
Naria. 'Tis strange! he spake of you Peep'd at the rose's side.
familiarly It chanc'd I pass'd again that way
As mine and Albert's common Foster
mother. In Autumn's latest hour, And wond’ring saw the selfsame spray
Foster-Mother. Now blessings on the Rich with the selfsame flower.
man, whoe'er he be,
That joined your names with mine! O Ah fond deceit ! the rude green bud
my sweet lady, Alike in shape, place, name,
As often as I think of those dear times Had bloom'd where bloom'ditsparent stud, When you two little ones would stand at Another and the same !
On each side of my chair, and make me With earth and water, on the stumps of learn
trees. All you had learnt in the day; and how A Friar, who gathered simples in the to talk
wood, In gentle phrase, then bid me sing to A grey-haired man-he loved this little you
boy, 'Tis more like heaven to come, than what The boy loved him— and, when the has been !
Friar taught him, Maria. O my dear Mother ! this He soon could write with the pen; and strange man has left me
from that time, Troubled with wilder fancies, than the Lived chiefly at the Convent or the moon
40 Breeds in the love-sick maid who gazes So he became a very learned youth. at it,
But Oh! poor wretch! - he read, and Till lost in inward vision, with wet eye,
read, and read, She gazes idly !--- But that entrance, Till his brain turned — and Mother!
twentieth year, Foster-Mother. Can no one hear? It He had unlawful thoughts of many is a perilous tale!
things: Maria. No one.
And though he prayed, he never loved Foster-Mother. My husband's father told it me,
With holy men, nor in a holy place Poor old Leoni !-Angels rest his soul! But yet his speech, it was so soft and He was a woodman, and could fell and
The late Lord Velez ne'er was wearied With lusty arm. You know that huge
with him. round beam
And once, as by the north side of the Which props the hanging wall of the old
Chapel chapel ?
They stood together, chained in deep Beneath that tree, while yet it was a
The earth heaved under them with such He found a baby wrapt in mosses,
a groan, lined
That the wall tottered, and had wellWith thistle-beards, and such small locks
nigh fallen of wool
Right on their heads. My Lord was As hang on brambles. Well, he brought sorely frightened ; him home,
A fever seized him; and he made conAnd reared him at the then Lord Velez'
Of all the heretical and lawless talk And so the babe grew up a pretty boy, Which brought this judgment: so the A pretty boy, but most unteachable
youth was seized And never learnt a prayer, nor told a And cast into that hole. My husband's bead,
father But knew the names of birds, and Sobbed like a child-it almost broke his mocked their notes,
heart. And whistled, as he were a bird him. And once as he was working in the cellar, self:
He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the And all the autumn 'twas his only play
youth's, To get the seeds of wild flowers, and to Who sung a doleful song about green plant them
V How sweet it were on lake or wild Is this the only cure ? Merciful God! savannah
Each pore and natural outlet shrivellid To hunt for food, and be a naked man,
up And wander up and down at liberty. By ignorance and parching poverty He always doted on the youth, and Ilis energies roll back upon his heart, now
And stagnate and corrupt ; till changed His love grew desperate; and defying
to poison, death,
They break out on him, like a loathHe made that cunning entrance I de
some plague-spot; scribed :
Then we call in our pamper'd mounteAnd the young man escaped.
'Tis a sweet tale: And this is their best cure ! uncomforted Such as would lull a listening child to And friendless solitude, groaning and sleep,
tears, His rosy face besoiled with unwiped And savage faces, at the clanking hour, tears.
Seen through the steams and vapours of And what became of him?
his dungeon, Foster-Mother. He went on ship- By the lamp’s dismal twilight ! So he lies board
Circled with evil, till his very soul With those bold voyagers, who made Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly dediscovery
With other ministrations thou, O nature! He told Leoni, that the poor mad youth, Healest thy wandering and distempered Soon after they arrived in that new
child : world,
Thou pourest on him thy soft influences, In spite of his dissuasion, seized a boat, Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathAnd all alone, set sail by silent moon
ing sweets, light,
Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and Up a great river, great as any sea,
waters, And ne'er was heard of more: but 'tis Till he relent, and can no more endure supposed,
80 To be a jarring and a dissonant thing He lived and died among the savage Amid this general dance and minstrelsy ; men.
But, bursting into tears, wins back his 1797.
His angry spirit healed and harmonized THE DUNGEON
By the benignant touch of love and beauty.
1797 [From Osorio, Act V.; and Remorse, Act V. Scene i. The title and text are here printed from Lyrical Ballads, 1798.]
THE THREE GRAVES AND this place our forefathers made for men !
A FRAGMENT OF A SEXTON'S TALE This is the process of our love and wisdom,
[PART I-FROM MS.] To each poor brother who offends BENEATH this thorn when I was young, against us
This thorn that blooms so sweet, Most innocent, perhaps—and what if We loved to stretch our lazy limbs guilty ?
In summer's noon-tide heat.