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Were these three friends, one Sunday He sat upright ; and ere the dream 530 morn,
Had had time to depart, Just as the first bell rung.
O God, forgive me !' (he exclaimed)
· I have torn out her heart.' 'Tis sweet to hear a brook, 'tis sweet To hear the Sabbath-bell,
Then Ellen shrieked, and forthwith burst 'Tis sweet to hear them both at once, Into ungentle laughter ; Deep in a woody dell.
And Mary shivered, where she sat,
And never she smiled after. His limbs along the moss, his head
1797-1809. Upon a mossy heap,
Carmen reliquum in futurum tempus releWith shut-up senses, Edward lay :
gatum. To-morrow! and To-morrow! and That brook e'en on a working day
To-morrow !--[Note of S. T. C.-1815.] 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.
TIIIS LIME-TREE BOWER MY
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
Had dimmed mine eyes to blindness!
edge, Wander in gladness, and wind down,
perchance, To that still roaring dell, of which I told; The roaring dell, o'erwooded, narrow,
deep, And only speckled by the mid-day sun ; Where its slim trunk the ash from rock
Flings arching like a bridge ;
le wide landscape, gaze till all doth branchless ash,
40 Unsunned and damp, whose few po gross than bodily; and of such hues yellow leaves
il the Almighty Spirit, when yet Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble
he makes still,
Spirits perceive his presence. Fanned by the water-fall! and there my
A delight friends
Comes sudden on my heart, and I am Behold the dark green file of long lank
As I myself were there! Nor in this That all at once (a most fantastic sight !)
bower, Still nod and drip beneath the dripping This little lime-tree bower, have I nou edge
marked Of the blue clay-stone.
Much that has soothed me. Pale beneath
the blaze Now, my friends emerge Hung the transparent foliage ; and I Beneath the wide wide Heaven and
watched view again
Some broad and sunny leaf, and loved to The many-steepled tract magnificent
see Of hilly fields and meadows, and the sea, The shadow of the leaf and stem above, With some fair bark, perhaps, whose Dappling its sunshine ! And that walsails light up
51 The slip of smooth clear blue betwixt Was richly tinged, and a deep radiance two Isles
lay Of purple shadow! Yes! they wander Full on the ancient ivy, which usurps on
Those fronting elms, and now, with In gladness all ; but thou, methinks,
blackest mass most glad,
Makes their dark branches gleam a lighter My gentle-hearted Charles ! for thou hast
Through the late twilight: and though And hungered after Nature, many a
now the bat 2 year,
Wheels silent by, and not a swallow In the great City pent, winning thy way
twitters, With sad yet patient soul, through evil Yet still the solitary humble-bee and pain
Sings in the bean-flower! Henceforth I And strange calamity! Ah! slowly sink
shall know Behind the western ridge, thou glorious That Nature ne'er deserts the wise and Sun !
бо Shine in the slant beams of the sinking No plot so narrow, be but Nature there, orb,
No waste so vacant, but may well Ye purple heath-flowers ! richlier burn,
employ ye clouds !
Each faculty of sense, and keep the Live in the yellow light, ye_distant
heart groves !
Awake to Love and Beauty! and someAnd kindle, thou blue Ocean! So my
'Tis well to be bereft of promised good, Struck with deep joy may stand, as I That we may lift the soul, and contemhave stood,
plate Silent with swimming sense; yea, gazing With lively joy the joys we cannot round
share. nalme heath
did they he heart that loved by
My gentle-hearted Charles ! whe
this earth in fast thick pants were last rook
breathing, Beat its straight path along the du mighty fountain momently was forced : Homewards, I blest it! deemir Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst black wing
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding (Now a dim speck, now vanishing in
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's Had cross'd the mighty orb's dilated
flail : glory,
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once While thou stood'st gazing; or when all and ever was still,
It flung up momently the sacred river. Flew creeking o'er thy head, and had a Five miles meandering with a mazy charm
motion 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 Life.
man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And ʼmid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war !
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played, 40 Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Iler symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
That with music loud and long,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
50 A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed, And from this chasm, with ceaseless And drunk the milk of Paradise. turmoil seething,
1798. See p. xlii. not.
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.
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. [1798.]