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But when I told the cruel scorn
Her bosom heaved--she stepped aside, That crazed that bold and lovely Knight, As conscious of my look she steppedAnd that he crossed the mountain-woods, Then suddenly, with timorous eye Nor rested day nor night ;
She fled to me and wept. That sometimes from the savage den, She half enclosed me with her arms, And sometimes from the darksome shade She pressed me with a meek embrace ; And sometimes starting up at once
And bending back her head, looked up, In green and sunny glade,
And gazed upon my face.
Three times she sends her little page And in the eye of noon my love
Shall lead me from my mother's door, 50 If he might find the Knight that wears Sweet boys and girls all clothed in white The Griffin for his crest.
Strewing flowers before : The sun was sloping down the sky, * But first the nodding minstrels go And she had linger'd there all day, With music meet for lordly bowers, Counting moments, dreaming fears-- The children next in snow-white vests, Oh wherefore can he stay?
Strewing buds and flowers ! She hears a rustling o'er the brook, "And then my love and I shall pace, She sees far off a swinging bough! My jet black hair in pearly braids, “ 'Tis He! 'Tis my betrothed Knight! Between our comely bachelors Lord Falkland, it is Thou !!
And blushing bridal maids.'
60 She springs, she clasps him round the neck,
1798. She sobs a thousand hopes and fears, Her kisses glowing on his cheeks
[Sent in a letter from Ratzeburg to the Wordsworths at Goslar in the winter of 1798-9. The
seven lines beginning ‘O! what a life is the My friends with rude ungentle words eye 'were printed in the edition of 1834, with the They scoff and bid me fly to thee ! heading Written during a temporary blindness O give me shelter in thy breast !
in the year 1799.' 'When I was ill and wakeO shield and shelter me !
ful (writes Coleridge) I composed some English
hexameters:-) My Henry, I have given thee much,
WILLIAM, my teacher, my friend! dear I gave what I can ne'er recall,
William and dear Dorothea !
Smooth out the folds of my letter, and
place it on desk or on table; The Knight made answer to the Maid,
Place it on table or desk ; and your right While to his heart he held her hand,
hands loosely half-closing, Nine castles hath my noble sire,
Gently sustain them in air, and extendNone statelier in the land.
ing the digit didactic,
Rest it a moment on each of the forks of • The fairest one shall be my love's,
the five-forkéd left hand, The fairest castle of the nine !
Twice on the breadth of the thumb, and Wait only till the stars peep out,
once on the tip of each finger; The fairest shall be thine :
Read with a nod of the head in a hu
mouring recitativo; · Wait only till the hand of eve
And, as I live, you will see my hexaHath wholly closed yon western bars,
meters hopping before you. And through the dark we two will steal This is a galloping measure ; a hop, and Beneath the twinkling stars !'—
a trot, and a gallop ! The dark? the dark? No! not the All my hexameters fly, like stags pursued dark ?
by the stag-hounds, The twinkling stars? How, Henry ? Breathless and panting, and ready to How ?
drop, yet flying still onwards, 2 O God ! 'twas in the eye of noon
1 False metre. He pledged his sacred vow !
2 'Still flying onwards' were perhaps better.
AD VILMUM AXIOLOGUM-HYMN TO THE EARTH
I would full fain pull in my hard-mouthed | Lives with a separate life, and “Is it runaway hunter;
the Spirit ?' 1 he murmurs : But our English Spondeans are clumsy Sure it has thoughts of its own, and to yet impotent curb-reins ;
see is only its language.2 And so to make him go slowly, no way left have I but to lame him.
There was a great deal more, which
I have forgotten. ... The last line William, my head and my heart ! dear which I wrote, I remember, and write it Poet that feelest and thinkest!
for the truth of the sentiment, scarcely Dorothy, eager of soul, my most affec- less true in company than in pain and tionate sister !
solitude :Many a mile, O! many a wearisome William my head and my heart ! dear mile are ye distant,
William and dear Dorothea ! Long, long comfortless roads, with no
You have all in each other ; but I am one eye that doth know us.
lonely, and want you ! O! it is all too far to send you mockeries
idle : Yea, and I feel it not right ! But O! my
AD VILMUM AXIOLOGUM friends, my beloved ! Feverish and wakeful I lie, -I am weary
[TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH] of feeling and thinking.
This be the meed, that thy song creates Every thought is worn down, I am weary
a thousand-fold echo! yet cannot be vacant.
Sweet as the warble of woods, that Five long hours have I tossed, rheumatic
awakes at the gale of the morning! heats, dry and flushing,
List! the Hearts of the Pure, like caves Gnawing behind in my head, and wan
in the ancient mountains dering and throbbing about me, Deep, deep in the Bosom, and from the Busy and tiresome, my friends, as the
Bosom resound it, heat of the boding night-spider.1 Each with a different tone, complete or
in musical fragmentsI forget the beginning of the line : All have welcomed thy Voice, and re
ceive and retain and prolong it! my eyes are a burthen, Now unwillingly closed, now open and
This is the word of the Lord ! it is aching with darkness.
spoken and Beings Eternal O! what a life is the eye ! what a fine 2 Live and are borne as an Infant, the and inscrutable essence !
Eternal begets the Immortal, Him that is utterly blind, nor glimpses Love is the Spirit of Life, and Music the the fire that warms him ;
Life of the Spirit ! ? 1805.
MS. Him that never beheld the swelling breast
of his mother ; Him that ne'er smiled at the bosom as HYMN TO THE EARTH babe that smiles in its slumber : 3
[IMITATED FROM STOLBERG'S HYMNE Even to 4 him it exists, it stirs and moves 5 in its prison ;
AN DIE ERDE]
HEXAMETERS 1 False metre. 2 [Strange. 1834. Ed.]
EARTH! thou mother of numberless chil3 [Him that smiled in his gladness as a babe
dren, the nurse and the mother, that smiles in its slumber. 1834. Ed.] 4 [For. 1834: Ed.]
1 [A spirit. 1834. Ed.] 5 [Moves and stirs. 1834. Ed.]
2 [A language. 1834. Ed.]
Hail ! O Goddess, thrice hail ! Elest be Fair was thy blush, the fairest and first thou ! and, blessing, I hymn thee !
of the blushes of morning! Forth, ye sweet sounds ! from my harp, Deep was the shudder, O Earth! the
and my voice shall float on your throe of thy self-retention :
Inly thou strovest to flee, and didst seek Soar thou aloft, O my soul ! and bear up thyself at thy centre ! my song on thy pinions.
Mightier far was the joy of thy sudden
resilience; and forthwith Travelling the vale with mine eyes— Myriad myriads of lives teem'd forth from green meadows and lake with
the mighty embracement.
Thousand-fold tribes of dwellers, impellid Dark in its basin of rock, and the bare
by thousand-fold instincts, stream flowing in brightness, Fill'd, as a dream, the wide waters; the Thrilld with thy beauty and love in the rivers sang on their channels ;
wooded slope of the mountain, Laugh'd on their shores the hoarse seas ; Here, great mother, I lie, thy child, with
the yearning ocean swell'd uphis head on thy bosom !
ward ; Playful the spirits of noon, that rushing Young life low'd through the meadows, soft through thy tresses,
the woods, and the echoing mounGreen-hair'd goddess ! refresh me; and
tains, hark! as they hurry or linger, Wander'd bleating in valleys, and warbled Fill the pause of my harp, or sustain it on blossoming branches.
with musical murmurs. Into my being thou murmurest joy, and
? 1799. tenderest sadness
MAHOMET Shedd'st thou, like dew, on my heart, till
the joy and the heavenly sadness UTTER the song, O my soul ! the flight Pour themselves forth from my heart in
and return of Mohammed, tears, and the hymn of thanks- Prophet and priest, who scatter'd abroad giving
both evil and blessing,
Huge wasteful empires founded and Earth! thou mother of numberless chil
hallow'd slow persecution, dren, the nurse and the mother, Soul-withering, but crush'd the blasSister thou of the stars, and beloved by
phemous rites of the Pagan the Sun, the rejoicer !
And idolatrous Christians. —For veiling Guardian and friend of the moon, O
the Gospel of Jesus, Earth, whom the comets forget They, the best corrupting, had made it not,
worse than the vilest. Yea, in the measureless distance wheel Wherefore Heaven decreed th' enthuround and again they behold thee!
siast warrior of Mecca, Fadeless and young and what if the Choosing good from iniquity rather than latest birth of creation ?)
evil from goodness. Bride and consort of Heaven, that looks Loud the tumult in Mecca surrounding down upon thee enamour'd!
the fane of the idol ;Say, mysterious Earth! O say, great Naked and prostrate the priesthood were mother and goddess,
laid--the people with mad shouts Was it not well with thee then, when first Thundering now, and now with saddest thy lap was ungirdled,
ululation Thy lap to the genial Heaven, the day Flew, as over the channel of rock-stone that he woo'd thee and won thee!
the ruinous river
HEAR, my beloved, an old Milesian
story ! High, and embosom'd in congregated
LESSON FOR A BOY
From long to long in solemn sort
Slow Spõndēe stālks ; strong foot! yea From the far shores of the bleat-resound
ill able ing island
Ever tỏ cõme ip with Dactyl triOft by the moonlight a little boat came
sām bics mārch from short to long; floating, Came to the sea-cave beneath the breezy
With ă leap ănd à bound thề swift headland,
Anăpăsts throng; Where amid myrtles a pathway stole in
One syllable long, with one short at each
side, mazes Up to the groves of the high embosom'd Åmphībrăchýs hāstes with ă stātely
temple. There in a thicket of dedicated roses,
First ănd lāst bēing long, middlě short, Oft did a priestess, as lovely as a vision,
Amphìmācer Pouring her soul to the son of Cytherea,
Strīkes hỉs thūndēring hoofs like ă proud Pray him to hover around the slight if Derwent be innocent, steady, and
hīgh-brěd Rācer. canoe-boat, And with invisible pilotage to guide it
wise, Over the dusk wave, until the nightly
And delight in the things of earth, water,
and skies; sailor Shivering with ecstasy sank upon her
Tender warmth at his heart, with these bosom.
metres to show it, With sound sense in his brains, may
make Derwent a poet, —
Nay crown him with fame, and must THE HOMERIC HEXAMETER
win him the love
Of his father on earth and his Father DESCRIBED ANI) EXEMPLIFIED
My dear, dear child ! STRONGLY it bears us along in swelling Could you stand upon Skiddaw, you and limitless billows,
would not from its whole ridge Nothing before and nothing behind but See a man who so loves you as your the sky and the ocean.
fond S. T. COLERIDGE.