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When by herself, she to herself
Must sing some merry rhyme ;
She could not now be glad for hours,
Yet silent all the time.

And when she soothed her friend, through all

Her soothing words 'twas plain She had a sore grief of her own, A haunting in her brain.

And oft she said, I'm not grown thin! And then her wrist she spanned; 431 And once when Mary was down-cast,

She took her by the hand, And gazed upon her, and at first

She gently pressed her hand;

Then harder, till her grasp at length
Did gripe like a convulsion!
'Alas!' said she, we ne'er can be
Made happy by compulsion!'

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And then the hot days, all at once,

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They came, we knew not how :
You looked about for shade, when scarce
A leaf was on a bough.

It happened then ('twas in the bower,
A furlong up the wood:
Perhaps you know the place, and yet
I scarce know how you should,)

No path leads thither, 'tis not nigh 480 To any pasture-plot ;

But clustered near the chattering brook,
Lone hollies marked the spot.

Those hollies of themselves a shape
As of an arbour took,

A close, round arbour; and it stands
Not three strides from a brook.

Within this arbour, which was still With scarlet berries hung,

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Were these three friends, one Sunday He sat upright; and ere the dream 530

morn,

Just as the first bell rung.

'Tis sweet to hear a brook, 'tis sweet To hear the Sabbath-bell,

'Tis sweet to hear them both at once, Deep in a woody dell.

His limbs along the moss, his head
Upon a mossy heap,

With shut-up senses, Edward lay:
That brook e'en on a working day
Might chatter one to sleep.

And he had passed a restless night,
And was not well in health;
The women sat down by his side,

And talked as 'twere by stealth.

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Had had time to depart,

'O God, forgive me!' (he exclaimed)

'I have torn out her heart.'

Then Ellen shrieked, and forthwith burst
Into ungentle laughter;

And Mary shivered, where she sat,
And never she smiled after.

1797-1809.

Carmen reliquum in futurum tempus relegatum. To-morrow! and To-morrow! and To-morrow!--[Note of S. T. C.—1815.]

THIS LIME-TREE BOWER MY

PRISON

ADDRESSED TO CHARLES LAMB, OF THE INDIA HOUSE, LONDON

In the June of 1797 some long-expected friends paid a visit to the author's cottage; and on the morning of their arrival, he met with an accident, which disabled him from walking during the whole time of their stay. One evening, when they had left him for a few hours, he composed the following lines in the garden-bower.

WELL, they are gone, and here must I remain,

This lime-tree bower my prison ! I have lost

Beauties and feelings, such as would have been

Most sweet to my remembrance even

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صاد

Flings arching like a bridge;

branchless ash,

Unsunned and damp, whose few pe yellow leaves

Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still,

Fanned by the water-fall! and there my

friends

Behold the dark green file of long lank

weeds,

That all at once (a most fantastic sight!)

he wide landscape, gaze till all doth

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gross than bodily; and of such hues il the Almighty Spirit, when yet

he makes

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Still nod and drip beneath the dripping This little lime-tree bower, have I no

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Much that has soothed me. Pale beneath

the blaze

Hung the transparent foliage; and I

watched

Some broad and sunny leaf, and loved to

see

The shadow of the leaf and stem above, Dappling its sunshine! And that wal

nut-tree

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Was richly tinged, and a deep radiance lay

Full on the ancient ivy, which usurps Those fronting elms, and now, with blackest mass

Makes their dark branches gleam a lighter hue

Through the late twilight: and though now the bat

Wheels silent by, and not a swallow twitters,

Yet still the solitary humble-bee Sings in the bean-flower! Henceforth I shall know

Behind the western ridge, thou glorious That Nature ne'er deserts the wise and Sun !

orb,

pure;

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Shine in the slant beams of the sinking No plot so narrow, be but Nature there, No waste so vacant, but may well employ

Ye purple heath-flowers! richlier burn, ye clouds!

Live in the yellow light, ye distant groves!

And kindle, thou blue Ocean! friend

So my

Each faculty of sense, and keep the heart

Awake to Love and Beauty! and sometimes

'Tis well to be bereft of promised good, Struck with deep joy may stand, as I That we may lift the soul, and contem

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Silent with swimming sense; yea, gazing With lively joy the joys we cannot

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For thee, my gentle-hearted Charles, to Through wood and dale the sacred river whom

ran,

No sound is dissonant which tells of Then reached the caverns measureless to

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THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER

IN SEVEN PARTS

Facile credo, plures esse Naturas invisibiles quam visibiles in rerum universitate. Sed horum omnium familiam quis nobis enarrabit? et gradus et cognationes et discrimina et singulorum munera ? Quid agunt? quæ loca habitant? Harum rerum notitiam semper ambivit ingenium humanum, nunquam attigit. Juvat, interea, non diffiteor, quandoque in animo, tanquam in tabulâ, majoris et melioris mundi imaginem contemplari: ne mens assuefacta hodiernæ vitæ minutiis se contrahat nimis, et tota subsidat in pusillas cogitationes. Sed veritati interea invigilandum est, modusque servandus, ut certa ab incertis, diem a nocte, distinguamus.-T. BURNET, Archæol. Phil. p. 68.

ARGUMENT

How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.

An ancient Mariner meeteth three Gallants bidden to a wedding-feast, and detaineth one.

The Wedding-Guest is spell-bound by the eye of the old seafaring man, and constrained to hear his tale.

PART I

IT is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.

By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,

And I am next of kin ;

The guests are met, the feast is set:

May'st hear the merry din.'

He holds him with his skinny hand,

There was a ship,' quoth he.

'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye-
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years' child:
The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:

He cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,

The bright-eyed Mariner.

'The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily did we drop

Below the kirk, below the hill,

Below the lighthouse top.

[1798.]

ΙΟ

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