Chapter XL: Canto II (6)

[417:3] First published with the Latin in the _Courier_, August 30, 1811, with the following introduction:--'About thirteen years ago or more, travelling through the middle parts of Germany I saw a little print of the Virgin and Child in the small public house of a Catholic Village, with the following beautiful Latin lines under it, which I transcribed. They may be easily adapted to the air of the famous Sicilian Hymn, _Adeste fideles, laeti triumphantes_, by the omission of a few notes.' First collected in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title--In a Roman Catholic] In a Catholic S. L., 1828, 1829.

TO A LADY[418:1]

OFFENDED BY A SPORTIVE OBSERVATION THAT WOMEN HAVE NO SOULS

Nay, dearest Anna! why so grave?
I said, you had no soul, 'tis true!
For what you are, you cannot have:
'Tis I, that have one since I first had you!

? 1811.

FOOTNOTES:

[418:1] First published in _Omniana_ (1812), i. 238; 'as a playful illustration of the distinction between _To_ have _and to_ be.' First collected in 1828: included in 1829 and 1834.

LINENOTES:

_To a Lady, &c._--In line 3 'are', 'have', and in line 4 'have', 'you', are italicized in all editions except 1834.

REASON FOR LOVE'S BLINDNESS[418:2]

I have heard of reasons manifold
Why Love must needs be blind,
But this the best of all I hold--
His eyes are in his mind.

What outward form and feature are 5
He guesseth but in part;
But that within is good and fair
He seeth with the heart.

? 1811.

FOOTNOTES:

[418:2] First published in 1828: included in 1829 and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] In 1828, 1829, 1834 these stanzas are printed without a title, but are divided by a space from _Lines to a Lady_. The title appears first in 1893.

THE SUICIDE'S ARGUMENT[419:1]

Ere the birth of my life, if I wished it or no,
No question was asked me--it could not be so!
If the life was the question, a thing sent to try,
And to live on be Yes; what can No be? to die.

NATURE'S ANSWER

Is't returned, as 'twas sent? Is't no worse for the wear? 5
Think first, what you are! Call to mind what you were!
I gave you innocence, I gave you hope,
Gave health, and genius, and an ample scope.
Return you me guilt, lethargy, despair?
Make out the invent'ry; inspect, compare! 10
Then die--if die you dare!

1811.

FOOTNOTES:

[419:1] First published in 1828: included in 1829 and 1884. In a Notebook of (?) 1811 these lines are preceded by the following couplet:--

Complained of, complaining, there shov'd and here shoving,
Every one blaming me, ne'er a one loving.

LINENOTES:

[4] Yes] YES 1828, 1829.

[6] are] ARE 1828, 1829. were] WERE 1828, 1829.

TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY[419:2]

AN ALLEGORY

On the wide level of a mountain's head,
(I knew not where, but 'twas some faery place)
Their pinions, ostrich-like, for sails out-spread,
Two lovely children run an endless race,
A sister and a brother!
This far outstripp'd the other;
Yet ever runs she with reverted face.
And looks and listens for the boy behind:
For he, alas! is blind!
O'er rough and smooth with even step he passed, 10
And knows not whether he be first or last.

? 1812.

FOOTNOTES:

[419:2] First published in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, in the preliminary matter, p. v: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834. In the 'Preface' to _Sibylline Leaves_, p. iii, an apology is offered for its insertion on the plea that it was a 'school boy poem' added 'at the request of the friends of my youth'. The title is explained as follows:--'By imaginary Time, I meant the state of a school boy's mind when on his return to school he projects his being in his day dreams, and lives in his next holidays, six months hence; and this I contrasted with real Time.' In a Notebook of (?) 1811 there is an attempt to analyse and illustrate the 'sense of Time', which appears to have been written before the lines as published in _Sibylline Leaves_ took shape: 'How marked the contrast between troubled manhood and joyously-active youth in the sense of time! To the former, time like the sun in an empty sky is never seen to move, but only to have _moved_. There, there it was, and now 'tis here, now distant! yet all a blank between. To the latter it is as the full moon in a fine breezy October night, driving on amid clouds of all shapes and hues, and kindling shifting colours, like an ostrich in its speed, and yet seems not to have moved at all. This I feel to be a just image of time real and time as felt, in two different states of being. The title of the poem therefore (for poem it ought to be) should be time real and time felt (in the sense of time) in active youth, or activity with hope and fullness of aim in any period, and in despondent, objectless manhood--time objective and subjective.' _Anima Poetae_, 1895, pp. 241-2.

AN INVOCATION[420:1]

FROM _REMORSE_

[Act III, Scene i. ll. 69-82.]

Hear, sweet Spirit, hear the spell,
Lest a blacker charm compel!
So shall the midnight breezes swell
With thy deep long-lingering knell.

And at evening evermore, 5
In a chapel on the shore,
Shall the chaunter, sad and saintly,
Yellow tapers burning faintly,
Doleful masses chaunt for thee,
Miserere Domine! 10

Hush! the cadence dies away
On the quiet moonlight sea:
The boatmen rest their oars and say,
Miserere Domine!

1812.

FOOTNOTES:

[420:1] First published in _Remorse_, 1813. First collected, 1844.

LINENOTES:

_An Invocation_--7 chaunter] chaunters 1813, 1828, 1839, 1893.

[12] quiet] yellow 1813, 1828, 1829.

THE NIGHT-SCENE[421:1]

A DRAMATIC FRAGMENT

_Sandoval._ You loved the daughter of Don Manrique?

_Earl Henry._ Loved?

_Sand._ Did you not say you wooed her?

_Earl H._ Once I loved
Her whom I dared not woo!

_Sand._ And wooed, perchance,
One whom you loved not!

_Earl H._ Oh! I were most base,
Not loving Oropeza. True, I wooed her, 5
Hoping to heal a deeper wound; but she
Met my advances with impassioned pride,
That kindled love with love. And when her sire,
Who in his dream of hope already grasped
The golden circlet in his hand, rejected 10
My suit with insult, and in memory
Of ancient feuds poured curses on my head,
Her blessings overtook and baffled them!
But thou art stern, and with unkindly countenance
Art inly reasoning whilst thou listenest to me. 15

_Sand._ Anxiously, Henry! reasoning anxiously.
But Oropeza--

_Earl H._ Blessings gather round her!
Within this wood there winds a secret passage,
Beneath the walls, which opens out at length
Into the gloomiest covert of the garden.-- 20
The night ere my departure to the army,
She, nothing trembling, led me through that gloom,
And to that covert by a silent stream,
Which, with one star reflected near its marge,
Was the sole object visible around me. 25
No leaflet stirred; the air was almost sultry;
So deep, so dark, so close, the umbrage o'er us!
No leaflet stirred;--yet pleasure hung upon
The gloom and stillness of the balmy night-air.
A little further on an arbour stood, 30
Fragrant with flowering trees--I well remember
What an uncertain glimmer in the darkness
Their snow-white blossoms made--thither she led me,
To that sweet bower! Then Oropeza trembled--
I heard her heart beat--if 'twere not my own. 35

_Sand._ A rude and soaring note, my friend!

_Earl H._ Oh! no!
I have small memory of aught but pleasure.
The inquietudes of fear, like lesser streams
Still flowing, still were lost in those of love:
So love grew mightier from the fear, and Nature, 40
Fleeing from Pain, sheltered herself in Joy.
The stars above our heads were dim and steady,
Like eyes suffused with rapture. Life was in us:
We were all life, each atom of our frames
A living soul--I vowed to die for her: 45
With the faint voice of one who, having spoken,
Relapses into blessedness, I vowed it:
That solemn vow, a whisper scarcely heard,
A murmur breathed against a lady's ear.
Oh! there is joy above the name of pleasure. 50
Deep self-possession, an intense repose.

_Sand. (with a sarcastic smile)._ No other than as eastern sages
paint,
The God, who floats upon a Lotos leaf,
Dreams for a thousand ages; then awaking,
Creates a world, and smiling at the bubble, 55
Relapses into bliss.

_Earl H._ Ah! was that bliss
Feared as an alien, and too vast for man?
For suddenly, impatient of its silence,
Did Oropeza, starting, grasp my forehead.
I caught her arms; the veins were swelling on them. 60
Through the dark bower she sent a hollow voice;--
'Oh! what if all betray me? what if thou?'
I swore, and with an inward thought that seemed
The purpose and the substance of my being,
I swore to her, that were she red with guilt, 65
I would exchange my unblenched state with hers.--
Friend! by that winding passage, to that bower
I now will go--all objects there will teach me
Unwavering love, and singleness of heart.
Go, Sandoval! I am prepared to meet her-- 70
Say nothing of me--I myself will seek her--
Nay, leave me, friend! I cannot bear the torment
And keen inquiry of that scanning eye.--

[_Earl Henry retires into the wood._

_Sand. (alone)._ O Henry! always striv'st thou to be great
By thine own act--yet art thou never great 75
But by the inspiration of great passion.
The whirl-blast comes, the desert-sands rise up
And shape themselves; from Earth to Heaven they stand,
As though they were the pillars of a temple,
Built by Omnipotence in its own honour! 80
But the blast pauses, and their shaping spirit
Is fled: the mighty columns were but sand,
And lazy snakes trail o'er the level ruins!

1813.

FOOTNOTES:

[421:1] First published in its present state in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834. For an earlier draft, forming part of an 'Historic Drama in Five Acts' (unfinished) entitled _The Triumph of Loyalty_, 1801, vide Appendices of this edition. A prose sketch without title or heading is contained in one of Coleridge's earliest notebooks.

LINENOTES:

[14] unkindly] unkindling 1893.

[23] And to the covert by that silent stream S. L., corrected in _Errata_, p. [xi].

[24] near] o'er S. L., corrected in _Errata_, p. [xi].

A HYMN[423:1]

My Maker! of thy power the trace
In every creature's form and face
The wond'ring soul surveys:
Thy wisdom, infinite above
Seraphic thought, a Father's love 5
As infinite displays!

From all that meets or eye or ear,
There falls a genial holy fear
Which, like the heavy dew of morn,
Refreshes while it bows the heart forlorn! 10

Great God! thy works how wondrous fair!
Yet sinful man didst thou declare
The whole Earth's voice and mind!
Lord, ev'n as Thou all-present art,
O may we still with heedful heart 15
Thy presence know and find!
Then, come what will, of weal or woe,
Joy's bosom-spring shall steady flow;
For though 'tis Heaven THYSELF to see,
Where but thy _Shadow_ falls, Grief cannot be!-- 20

1814.

FOOTNOTES:

[423:1] First published in _Poems_, 1852. The MS. was placed in the hands of the Editors by J. W. Wilkins, Esq., of Trinity Hall, Cambridge. 'The accompanying autograph,' writes Mr. Wilkins, 'dated 1814, and addressed to Mrs. Hood of Brunswick Square, was given not later than the year 1817 to a relative of my own who was then residing at Clifton (and was, at the time at which it passed into his hands, an attendant on Mr. Coleridge's lectures, which were in course of delivery at that place), either by the lady to whom it is addressed, or by some other friend of Mr. Coleridge.' 1852, Notes, p. 385.

TO A LADY[424:1]

WITH FALCONER'S _SHIPWRECK_

Ah! not by Cam or Isis, famous streams,
In archéd groves, the youthful poet's choice;
Nor while half-listening, 'mid delicious dreams,
To harp and song from lady's hand and voice;

Not yet while gazing in sublimer mood 5
On cliff, or cataract, in Alpine dell;
Nor in dim cave with bladdery sea-weed strewed.
Framing wild fancies to the ocean's swell;

Our sea-bard sang this song! which still he sings,
And sings for thee, sweet friend! Hark, Pity, hark!
Now mounts, now totters on the tempest's wings, 11
Now groans, and shivers, the replunging bark!

'Cling to the shrouds!' In vain! The breakers roar--
Death shrieks! With two alone of all his clan
Forlorn the poet paced the Grecian shore, 15
No classic roamer, but a shipwrecked man!

Say then, what muse inspired these genial strains,
And lit his spirit to so bright a flame?
The elevating thought of suffered pains,
Which gentle hearts shall mourn; but chief, the name 20

Of gratitude! remembrances of friend,
Or absent or no more! shades of the Past,
Which Love makes substance! Hence to thee I send,
O dear as long as life and memory last!

I send with deep regards of heart and head, 25
Sweet maid, for friendship formed! this work to thee:
And thou, the while thou canst not choose but shed
A tear for Falconer, wilt remember me.

? 1814.

FOOTNOTES:

[424:1] First published in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834. A different or emended version headed 'Written in a Blank Leaf of Faulkner's Shipwreck, presented by a friend to Miss K', was published in _Felix Farley's Bristol Journal_ of February 21, 1818. [See Note by G. E. Weare, Weston-super-Mare, January, 1905.]

LINENOTES:

Title] To a Lady With Falkner's 'Shipwreck' S. L.

[2] archéd] cloyst'ring F. F.

[3] 'mid] midst F. F.

[4] lady's] woman's F. F.

[5] sublimer] diviner F. F.

[6] On torrent falls, on woody mountain dell F. F.

[7] sea-weed] sea-weeds F. F.

[8] Attuning wild tales to the ocean's swell F. F.

[9] this] _this_ F. F.

[10] thee] _thee_ F. F.

[11] It mounts, it totters F. F.

[12] It groans, it quivers F. F.

[14] of] and F. F.

[15] Forlorn the] The toil-worn F. F.

[17-20]

Say then what power evoked such genial strains
And beckon'd godlike to the trembling Muse?
The thought not pleasureless of suffer'd pains
But _chiefly_ friendship's voice, her holy dues.

F. F.

[21] Demanding dear remembrances of friend F. F.

[22] Which love makes real! Thence F. F.

[24] life] love F. F.

[26] Sweet Maid for friendship framed this song to thee F. F.

[28] Falconer] FALKNER S. L.: Faulkner F. F. me] ME S. L., 1828, 1829.

HUMAN LIFE[425:1]

--ON THE DENIAL OF IMMORTALITY

If dead, we cease to be; if total gloom
Swallow up life's brief flash for aye, we fare
As summer-gusts, of sudden birth and doom,
Whose sound and motion not alone declare,
But are their whole of being! If the breath[425:2] 5
Be Life itself, and not its task and tent,
If even a soul like Milton's can know death;
O Man! thou vessel purposeless, unmeant,
Yet drone-hive strange of phantom purposes!
Surplus of Nature's dread activity, 10
Which, as she gazed on some nigh-finished vase,
Retreating slow, with meditative pause,
She formed with restless hands unconsciously.
Blank accident! nothing's anomaly!
If rootless thus, thus substanceless thy state, 15
Go, weigh thy dreams, and be thy hopes, thy fears,
The counter-weights!--Thy laughter and thy tears
Mean but themselves, each fittest to create
And to repay the other! Why rejoices
Thy heart with hollow joy for hollow good? 20
Why cowl thy face beneath the mourner's hood?
Why waste thy sighs, and thy lamenting voices,
Image of Image, Ghost of Ghostly Elf,
That such a thing as thou feel'st warm or cold?
Yet what and whence thy gain, if thou withhold 25
These costless shadows of thy shadowy self?
Be sad! be glad! be neither! seek, or shun!
Thou hast no reason why! Thou canst have none;
Thy being's being is contradiction.

? 1815.

FOOTNOTES:

[425:1] First published in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[425:2] Halitus = anima animae tabernaculum _MS. Note_ (? _S. T. C._)

LINENOTES:

[5] are] _are_ S. L., 1828, 1829. whole] _whole_ S. L., 1828, 1829.

[19] the] each 1887-80, 1893.

SONG[426:1]

FROM _ZAPOLYA_

A Sunny shaft did I behold,
From sky to earth it slanted:
And poised therein a bird so bold--
Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted!

He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he trolled 5
Within that shaft of sunny mist;
His eyes of fire, his beak of gold,
All else of amethyst!

And thus he sang: 'Adieu! adieu!
Love's dreams prove seldom true. 10
The blossoms they make no delay:
The sparkling dew-drops will not stay.
Sweet month of May,
We must away;
Far, far away! 15
To-day! to-day!'

1815.

FOOTNOTES:

[426:1] First published in _Zapolya_, 1817 (Act II, Scene i, ll. 65-80). First collected in 1844. Two MSS. are extant, one in the possession of Mr. John Murray (_MS. M._), and a second in the possession of the Editor (_MS. S. T. C._). For a prose version of Glycine's Song, probably a translation from the German, vide Appendices of this edition.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sung by Glycine in _Zapolya_ 1893: Glycine's Song MS. M.

[1] A pillar grey did I behold MS. S. T. C.

[4] A faery Bird that chanted MS. S. T. C.

[6] sunny] shiny MS. S. T. C.

[11, 12] om. MS S. T. C., MS. M.

HUNTING SONG[427:1]

FROM _ZAPOLYA_

Up, up! ye dames, and lasses gay!
To the meadows trip away.
'Tis you must tend the flocks this morn,
And scare the small birds from the corn.
Not a soul at home may stay: 5
For the shepherds must go
With lance and bow
To hunt the wolf in the woods to-day.

Leave the hearth and leave the house
To the cricket and the mouse: 10
Find grannam out a sunny seat.
With babe and lambkin at her feet.
Not a soul at home may stay:
For the shepherds must go
With lance and bow 15
To hunt the wolf in the woods to-day.

1815.

FOOTNOTES:

[427:1] First published in _Zapolya_ (Act IV, Scene ii, ll. 56-71). First collected, 1844.

LINENOTES:

Title] Choral Song 1893.

FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY[427:2]

FROM THE ITALIAN OF GUARINI

FAITH

Let those whose low delights to Earth are given
Chaunt forth their earthly Loves! but we
Must make an holier minstrelsy,
And, heavenly-born, will sing the Things of Heaven.

CHARITY

But who for us the listening Heart shall gain? 5
Inaudible as of the sphere
Our music dies upon the ear,
Enchanted with the mortal Syren's strain.

HOPE

Yet let our choral songs abound!
Th' inspiring Power, its living Source, 10
May flow with them and give them force,
If, elsewhere all unheard, in Heaven they sound.

ALL

Aid thou our voice, Great Spirit! thou whose flame
Kindled the Songster sweet of Israel,
Who made so high to swell 15
Beyond a mortal strain thy glorious Name.

CHARITY AND FAITH

Though rapt to Heaven, our mission and our care
Is still to sojourn on the Earth,
To shape, to soothe, Man's second Birth,
And re-ascend to Heaven, Heaven's prodigal Heir! 20

CHARITY

What is Man's soul of Love deprived?

HOPE. FAITH

It like a Harp untunéd is,
That sounds, indeed, but sounds amiss.

CHARITY. HOPE

From holy Love all good gifts are derived.

FAITH

But 'tis time that every nation 25
Should hear how loftily we sing.

FAITH. HOPE. CHARITY

See, O World, see thy salvation!
Let the Heavens with praises ring.
Who would have a Throne above,
Let him hope, believe and love; 30
And whoso loves no earthly song,
But does for heavenly music long,
Faith, Hope, and Charity for him,
Shall sing like wingéd Cherubim.

1815.

FOOTNOTES:

[427:2] From a hitherto unpublished MS. For the original _Dialogo: Fide, Speranza, Fide_, included in the 'Madrigali . . .' del Signor Cavalier Battista Guarini, 1663, vide Appendices of this edition. The translation in Coleridge's handwriting is preceded by another version transcribed and, possibly, composed by Hartley Coleridge.

TO NATURE[429:1]

It may indeed be phantasy, when I
Essay to draw from all created things
Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that closely clings;
And trace in leaves and flowers that round me lie
Lessons of love and earnest piety. 5
So let it be; and if the wide world rings
In mock of this belief, it brings
Nor fear, nor grief, nor vain perplexity.
So will I build my altar in the fields,
And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be, 10
And the sweet fragrance that the wild flower yields
Shall be the incense I will yield to Thee,
Thee only God! and thou shalt not despise
Even me, the priest of this poor sacrifice.

? 1820.

FOOTNOTES:

[429:1] First published in _Letters, Conversations and Recollections_ by S. T. Coleridge, 1836, i. 144. First collected in _Poems_, 1863, Appendix, p. 391.

LIMBO[429:2]

* * * * *

The sole true Something--This! In Limbo's Den
It frightens Ghosts, as here Ghosts frighten men.
Thence cross'd unseiz'd--and shall some fated hour
Be pulveris'd by Demogorgon's power,
And given as poison to annihilate souls-- 5
Even now it shrinks them--they shrink in as Moles
(Nature's mute monks, live mandrakes of the ground)
Creep back from Light--then listen for its sound;--
See but to dread, and dread they know not why--
The natural alien of their negative eye. 10

'Tis a strange place, this Limbo!--not a Place,
Yet name it so;--where Time and weary Space
Fettered from flight, with night-mare sense of fleeing,
Strive for their last crepuscular half-being;--
Lank Space, and scytheless Time with branny hands 15
Barren and soundless as the measuring sands,
Not mark'd by flit of Shades,--unmeaning they
As moonlight on the dial of the day!
But that is lovely--looks like Human Time,--
An Old Man with a steady look sublime, 20
That stops his earthly task to watch the skies;
But he is blind--a Statue hath such eyes;--
Yet having moonward turn'd his face by chance,
Gazes the orb with moon-like countenance,
With scant white hairs, with foretop bald and high, 25
He gazes still,--his eyeless face all eye;--
As 'twere an organ full of silent sight,
His whole face seemeth to rejoice in light!
Lip touching lip, all moveless, bust and limb--
He seems to gaze at that which seems to gaze on him! 30
No such sweet sights doth Limbo den immure,
Wall'd round, and made a spirit-jail secure,
By the mere horror of blank Naught-at-all,
Whose circumambience doth these ghosts enthral.
A lurid thought is growthless, dull Privation, 35
Yet that is but a Purgatory curse;
Hell knows a fear far worse,
A fear--a future state;--'tis positive Negation!

1817.

FOOTNOTES:

[429:2] First published, in its present shape, from an original MS. in 1893 (inscribed in a notebook). Lines 6-10 ('they shrink . . . negative eye') were first printed in _The Friend_ (1818, iii. 215), and included as a separate fragment with the title 'Moles' in _P. W._, 1834, i. 259. Lines 11-38 were first printed with the title 'Limbo' in _P. W._, 1834, i. 272-3. The lines as quoted in _The Friend_ were directed against 'the partisans of a crass and sensual materialism, the advocates of the _Nihil nisi ab extra_'. The following variants, now first printed, are from a second MS. (_MS. S. T. C._) in the possession of Miss Edith Coleridge. In the notebook _Limbo_ is followed by the lines entitled _Ne Plus Ultra_, vide _post_, p. 431.

LINENOTES:

Title] Another Fragment, but in a very different style, from a Dream of Purgatory, alias Limbus MS. S. T. C. [_Note._--In this MS. _Phantom_, 'All Look and Likeness,' &c. precedes _Limbo_.]

[Between 2-3]

For skimming in the wake it mock'd the care
Of the old Boat-God for his farthing fare;
Tho' Irus' Ghost itself he ne'er frown'd blacker on
The skin and skin-pent Druggist cross'd the Acheron,
Styx, and with Periphlegeton Cocytus,--
(The very names, methinks, might frighten us)
Unchang'd it cross'd--_and shall some fated hour_

MS. Notebook.

[Coleridge marks these lines as 'a specimen of the Sublime dashed to pieces by cutting too close with the fiery Four-in-Hand round the corner of Nonsense.']

[6] They, like moles Friend, 1818.

[8] Shrink from the light, then listen for a sound Friend, 1818.

[12] so] such MS. S. T. C.

[16] the] his MS. S. T. C.

[17] Mark'd but by Flit MS. S. T. C.

[30] at] on MS. S. T. C.

[31 foll.]

In one sole Outlet yawns the Phantom Wall,
And through this grim road to [a] worser thrall
Oft homeward scouring from a sick Child's dream
Old Mother Brownrigg shoots upon a scream;
And turning back her Face with hideous Leer,
Leaves Sentry there _Intolerable Fear_!
A horrid thought is growthless dull Negation:
Yet that is but a Purgatory Curse,
SHE knows a fear far worse
Flee, lest thou hear its Name! Flee, rash Imagination!

* * * * *

_S. T. Coleridge,
1st Oct. 1827, Grove, Highgate._

_NE PLUS ULTRA_[431:1]

Sole Positive of Night!
Antipathist of Light!
Fate's only essence! primal scorpion rod--
The one permitted opposite of God!--
Condenséd blackness and abysmal storm 5
Compacted to one sceptre
Arms the Grasp enorm--
The Intercepter--
The Substance that still casts the shadow Death!--
The Dragon foul and fell-- 10
The unrevealable,
And hidden one, whose breath
Gives wind and fuel to the fires of Hell!
Ah! sole despair
Of both th' eternities in Heaven! 15
Sole interdict of all-bedewing prayer,
The all-compassionate!
Save to the Lampads Seven
Reveal'd to none of all th' Angelic State,
Save to the Lampads Seven, 20
That watch the throne of Heaven!

? 1826.

FOOTNOTES:

[431:1] First published in 1834. The MS., which is inscribed in a notebook, is immediately preceded by that of the first draft of _Limbo_ (_ante_, p. 429). The so-called 'Ne Plus Ultra' may have been intended to illustrate a similar paradox--the 'positivity of negation'. No date can be assigned to either of these metaphysical conceits, but there can be little doubt that they were 'written in later life'.

THE KNIGHT'S TOMB[432:1]

Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn?
Where may the grave of that good man be?--
By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn,
Under the twigs of a young birch tree!
The oak that in summer was sweet to hear, 5
And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year,
And whistled and roared in the winter alone,
Is gone,--and the birch in its stead is grown.--
The Knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;-- 10
His soul is with the saints, I trust.

? 1817.

FOOTNOTES:

[432:1] First published in _P. W._, 1834. Gillman (_Life_, p. 276) says that the lines were composed 'as an experiment for a metre', and repeated by the author to 'a mutual friend', who 'spoke of his visit to Highgate' and repeated them to Scott on the following day. The last three lines, 'somewhat altered', are quoted in _Ivanhoe_, chapter viii, and again in _Castle Dangerous_, chapter ix. They run thus:--

The knights are dust,
And their good swords are rust;--
Their souls are with the saints, we trust.

Gillman says that the _Ivanhoe_ quotation convinced Coleridge that Scott was the author of the Waverley Novels. In the Appendix to the 'Notes' to _Castle Dangerous_ (1834), which was edited and partly drawn up by Lockhart, the poem is quoted in full, with a prefatory note ('The author has somewhat altered part of a beautiful unpublished fragment of Coleridge').

Where is the grave of Sir Arthur Orellan,--
Where may the grave of that good knight be?
By the marge of a brook, on the slope of Helvellyn,
Under the boughs of a young birch-tree.
The Oak that in summer was pleasant to hear,
That rustled in autumn all wither'd and sear,
That whistled and groan'd thro' the winter alone,
He hath gone, and a birch in his place is grown.
The knight's bones are dust,
His good sword is rust;
His spirit is with the saints, we trust.

This version must have been transcribed from a MS. in Lockhart's possession, and represents a first draft of the lines as published in 1834. These lines are, no doubt, an 'experiment for a metre'. The upward movement (ll. 1-7) is dactylic: the fall (ll. 8-11) is almost, if not altogether, spondaic. The whole forms a complete stanza, or metrical scheme, which may be compared with ll. 264-78 of the First Part of _Christabel_. Mrs. H. N. Coleridge, who must have been familiar with Gillman's story, dates the _Knight's Tomb_ 1802.

ON DONNE'S POETRY[433:1]

With Donne, whose muse on dromedary trots,
Wreathe iron pokers into true-love knots;
Rhyme's sturdy cripple, fancy's maze and clue,
Wit's forge and fire-blast, meaning's press and screw.

? 1818

FOOTNOTES:

[433:1] First published in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 148, from 'notes written by Mr. Coleridge in a volume of "Chalmers's Poets"'. Line 2 finds a place in Hartley Coleridge's couplets on Donne which are written on the fly-leaves and covers of his copy of Anderson's _British Poets_. In the original MS. it is enclosed in quotation marks. First collected in _P. W._, 1885, ii. 409.

ISRAEL'S LAMENT[433:2]

'A Hebrew Dirge, chaunted in the Great Synagogue, St. James's Place, Aldgate, on the day of the Funeral of her Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte. By Hyman Hurwitz, Master of the Hebrew Academy, Highgate: with a Translation in English Verse, by S. T. Coleridge, Esq., 1817.'

Mourn, Israel! Sons of Israel, mourn!
Give utterance to the inward throe!
As wails, of her first love forlorn,
The Virgin clad in robes of woe.

Mourn the young Mother, snatch'd away 5
From Light and Life's ascending Sun!
Mourn for the Babe, Death's voiceless prey,
Earn'd by long pangs and lost ere won.

Mourn the bright Rose that bloom'd and went,
Ere half disclosed its vernal hue! 10
Mourn the green Bud, so rudely rent,
It brake the stem on which it grew.

Mourn for the universal woe
With solemn dirge and fault'ring tongue:
For England's Lady is laid low, 15
So dear, so lovely, and so young!

The blossoms on her Tree of Life
Shone with the dews of recent bliss:
Transplanted in that deadly strife,
She plucks its fruits in Paradise. 20

Mourn for the widow'd Lord in chief,
Who wails and will not solaced be!
Mourn for the childless Father's grief,
The wedded Lover's agony!

Mourn for the Prince, who rose at morn 25
To seek and bless the firstling bud
Of his own Rose, and found the thorn,
Its point bedew'd with tears of blood.

O press again that murmuring string!
Again bewail that princely Sire! 30
A destined Queen, a future King,
He mourns on one funereal pyre.

Mourn for Britannia's hopes decay'd,
Her daughters wail their dear defence;
Their fair example, prostrate laid, 35
Chaste Love and fervid Innocence.

While Grief in song shall seek repose,
We will take up a Mourning yearly:
To wail the blow that crush'd the Rose,
So dearly priz'd and lov'd so dearly. 40

Long as the fount of Song o'erflows
Will I the yearly dirge renew:
Mourn for the firstling of the Rose,
That snapt the stem on which it grew.

The proud shall pass, forgot; the chill, 45
Damp, trickling Vault their only mourner!
Not so the regal Rose, that still
Clung to the breast which first had worn her!

O thou, who mark'st the Mourner's path
To sad Jeshurun's Sons attend! 50
Amid the Light'nings of thy Wrath
The showers of Consolation send!

Jehovah frowns! the Islands bow!
And Prince and People kiss the Rod!--
Their dread chastising Judge wert thou! 55
Be thou their Comforter, O God!

1817.

FOOTNOTES:

[433:2] First published, together with the Hebrew, as an octavo pamphlet (pp. 13) in 1817. An abbreviated version was included in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 57-8 and in the Appendix to _Poems_, 1863. The _Lament_ as a whole was first collected in _P. and D. W._, 1877-80, ii. 282-5.

LINENOTES:

_Title_] Israel's Lament on the death of the Princess Charlotte of Wales. From the Hebrew of Hyman Hurwitz L. R.

[19] Transplanted] Translated L. R., 1863.

[21-4] om. L. R, 1863.

[29-32] om. L. R., 1863.

[49-56] om. L. R., 1863.

[49] Mourner's] Mourners' L. R., 1863.

FANCY IN NUBIBUS[435:1]

OR THE POET IN THE CLOUDS

O! it is pleasant, with a heart at ease,
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To make the shifting clouds be what you please,
Or let the easily persuaded eyes
Own each quaint likeness issuing from the mould 5
Of a friend's fancy; or with head bent low
And cheek aslant see rivers flow of gold
'Twixt crimson banks; and then, a traveller, go
From mount to mount through Cloudland, gorgeous land!
Or list'ning to the tide, with closéd sight, 10
Be that blind bard, who on the Chian strand
By those deep sounds possessed with inward light,
Beheld the Iliad and the Odyssee
Rise to the swelling of the voiceful sea.

1817.

FOOTNOTES:

[435:1] First published in _Felix Farley's Bristol Journal_ for February 7, 1818: and afterwards in _Blackwood's Magazine_ for November, 1819. First collected in 1828: included in 1829 and 1834. A MS. in the possession of Major Butterworth of Carlisle is signed 'S. T. Coleridge, Little Hampton, Oct. 1818'. In a letter to Coleridge dated Jan. 10, 1820, Lamb asks, 'Who put your marine sonnet [i. e. A Sonnet written on the Sea Coast, vide _Title_] . . . in _Blackwood_?' F. Freiligrath in his Introduction to the Tauchnitz edition says that the last five lines are borrowed from Stolberg's _An das Meer_; vide Appendices of this edition.

LINENOTES:

Title] Fancy, &c. A Sonnet Composed by the Seaside, October 1817. F. F.: Fancy in Nubibus. A Sonnet, composed on the Sea Coast 1819.

[4] let] bid 1819.

[5] Own] Owe F. F. 1818. quaint] strange 1819.

[6] head] heart MS.: head bow'd low 1819.

[9] through] o'er 1819.

THE TEARS OF A GRATEFUL PEOPLE[436:1]

A Hebrew Dirge and Hymn, chaunted in the Great Synagogue. St. James' pl. Aldgate, on the Day of the Funeral of King George III. of blessed memory. By Hyman Hurwitz of Highgate, Translated by a Friend.

_Dirge_

Oppress'd, confused, with grief and pain,
And inly shrinking from the blow,
In vain I seek the dirgeful strain,
The wonted words refuse to flow.

A fear in every face I find, 5
Each voice is that of one who grieves;
And all my Soul, to grief resigned,
Reflects the sorrow it receives.

The Day-Star of our glory sets!
Our King has breathed his latest breath! 10
Each heart its wonted pulse forgets,
As if it own'd the pow'r of death.

Our Crown, our heart's Desire is fled!
Britannia's glory moults its wing!
Let us with ashes on our head, 15
Raise up a mourning for our King.

Lo! of his beams the Day-Star shorn,[436:2]
Sad gleams the Moon through cloudy veil!
The Stars are dim! Our Nobles mourn;
The Matrons weep, their Children wail. 20

No age records a King so just,
His virtues numerous as his days;
The Lord Jehovah was his trust,
And truth with mercy ruled his ways.

His Love was bounded by no Clime; 25
Each diverse Race, each distant Clan
He govern'd by this truth sublime,
'God only knows the heart--not man.'

His word appall'd the sons of pride,
Iniquity far wing'd her way; 30
Deceit and fraud were scatter'd wide,
And truth resum'd her sacred sway.

He sooth'd the wretched, and the prey
From impious tyranny he tore;
He stay'd th' Usurper's iron sway, 35
And bade the Spoiler waste no more.

Thou too, Jeshurun's Daughter! thou,
Th' oppress'd of nations and the scorn!
Didst hail on his benignant brow
A safety dawning like the morn. 40

The scoff of each unfeeling mind,
Thy doom was hard, and keen thy grief;
Beneath his throne, peace thou didst find,
And blest the hand that gave relief.

E'en when a fatal cloud o'erspread 45
The moonlight splendour of his sway,
Yet still the light remain'd, and shed
Mild radiance on the traveller's way.

But he is gone--the Just! the Good!
Nor could a Nation's pray'r delay 50
The heavenly meed, that long had stood
His portion in the realms of day.

Beyond the mighty Isle's extent
The mightier Nation mourns her Chief:
Him Judah's Daughter shall lament, 55
In tears of fervour, love and grief.

Britannia mourns in silent grief;
Her heart a prey to inward woe.
In vain she strives to find relief,
Her pang so great, so great the blow. 60

Britannia! Sister! woe is me!
Full fain would I console thy woe.
But, ah! how shall I comfort thee,
Who need the balm I would bestow?

United then let us repair, 65
As round our common Parent's grave;
And pouring out our heart in prayer,
Our heav'nly Father's mercy crave.

Until Jehovah from his throne
Shall heed his suffering people's fears; 70
Shall turn to song the Mourner's groan,
To smiles of joy the Nation's tears.

Praise to the Lord! Loud praises sing!
And bless Jehovah's righteous hand!
Again he bids a George, our King, 75
Dispense his blessings to the Land.

_Hymn_

O thron'd in Heav'n! Sole King of kings,
Jehovah! hear thy Children's prayers and sighs!
Thou Binder of the broken heart! with wings
Of healing on thy people rise! 80
Thy mercies, Lord, are sweet;
And Peace and Mercy meet,
Before thy Judgment seat:
Lord, hear us! we entreat!

When angry clouds thy throne surround, 85
E'en from the cloud thou bid'st thy mercy shine:
And ere thy righteous vengeance strikes the wound,
Thy grace prepares the balm divine!
Thy mercies, Lord, are sweet;
etc.

The Parent tree thy hand did spare-- 90
It fell not till the ripen'd fruit was won:
Beneath its shade the Scion flourish'd fair,
And for the Sire thou gav'st the Son.
etc.

This thy own Vine, which thou didst rear,
And train up for us from the royal root, 95
Protect, O Lord! and to the Nations near
Long let it shelter yield, and fruit,
etc.

Lord, comfort thou the royal line:
Let Peace and Joy watch round us hand and hand.
Our Nobles visit with thy grace divine, 100
And banish sorrow from the land!
Thy mercies, Lord, are sweet;
And Peace and Mercy meet
Before thy Judgment seat;
Lord, hear us! we entreat! 105

1820.

FOOTNOTES:

[436:1] First published with the Hebrew in pamphlet form in 1820. First collected in 1893.

[436:2] The author, in the spirit of Hebrew Poetry, here represents the Crown, the Peerage, and the Commonalty, by the figurative expression of the Sun, Moon, and Stars.

YOUTH AND AGE[439:1]

Verse, a breeze mid blossoms straying,
Where Hope clung feeding, like a bee--
Both were mine! Life went a-maying
With Nature, Hope, and Poesy,
When I was young! 5

When I was young?--Ah, woful When!
Ah! for the change 'twixt Now and Then!
This breathing house not built with hands,
This body that does me grievous wrong,
O'er aery cliffs and glittering sands, 10
How lightly then it flashed along:--
Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore,
On winding lakes and rivers wide,
That ask no aid of sail or oar,
That fear no spite of wind or tide! 15
Nought cared this body for wind or weather
When Youth and I lived in't together.

Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like;
Friendship is a sheltering tree;
O! the joys, that came down shower-like. 20
Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty,
Ere I was old!

Ere I was old? Ah woful Ere,
Which tells me, Youth's no longer here!
O Youth! for years so many and sweet, 25
'Tis known, that Thou and I were one,
I'll think it but a fond conceit--
It cannot be that Thou art gone!
Thy vesper-bell hath not yet toll'd:--
And thou wert aye a masker bold! 30
What strange disguise hast now put on,
To make believe, that thou art gone?
I see these locks in silvery slips,
This drooping gait, this altered size:
But Spring-tide blossoms on thy lips. 35
And tears take sunshine from thine eyes!
Life is but thought: so think I will
That Youth and I are house-mates still.

Dew-drops are the gems of morning,
But the tears of mournful eve! 40
Where no hope is, life's a warning
That only serves to make us grieve,
When we are old:

That only serves to make us grieve
With oft and tedious taking-leave, 45
Like some poor nigh-related guest,
That may not rudely be dismist;
Yet hath outstay'd his welcome while,
And tells the jest without the smile.

1823-1832.

FOOTNOTES:

[439:1] First published in its present shape in 1834. Lines 1-38, with the heading 'Youth and Age', were first published in the _Literary Souvenir_, 1828, and also in the _Bijou_, 1828: included in 1828, 1829. Lines 39-49 were first published in _Blackwood's Magazine_ for June 1832, entitled 'An Old Man's Sigh: a Sonnet', as 'an out-slough or hypertrophic stanza of a certain poem called "Youth and Age".' Of lines 1-43 three MSS. are extant. (1) A fair copy (_MS. 1_) presented to Derwent Coleridge, and now in the Editor's possession. In _MS. 1_ the poem is divided into three stanzas: (i) lines 1-17; (ii) lines 18-38; (iii) lines 39-43. The watermark of this MS. on a quarto sheet of Bath Post letter-paper is 1822. (2) A rough draft, in a notebook dated Sept. 10, 1823; and (3) a corrected draft of forty-three lines (vide for _MSS. 2_, _3_ Appendices of this edition). A MS. version of _An Old Man's Sigh_, dated 'Grove, Highgate, April 1832', was contributed to Miss Rotha Quillinan's Album; and another version numbering only eight lines was inscribed in an album in 1828 when Coleridge was on his Rhine tour with Wordsworth. After line 42 this version continues:--

As we creep feebly down life's slope,
Yet courteous dame, accept this truth,
Hope leaves us not, but we leave hope,
And quench the inward light of youth.
T. Colley Grattan's _Beaten Paths_,
1862, ii. 139.

There can be little doubt that lines 1-43 were composed in 1823, and that the last six lines of the text which form part of _An Old Man's Sigh_ were composed, as an afterthought, in 1832.

LINENOTES:

[1] Verse, a] Verse is a _with the alternative_ ? Vērse ă breeze MS. 1.

[2] clung] clings MS. 1, Bijou.

[6] When I] _When_ I 1828, 1829.

[8] This house of clay MS. 1, Bijou.

[10] O'er hill and dale and sounding sands MS. 1, Bijou.

[11] then] _then_ 1828, 1829.

[12] skiffs] boats MS. 1, Bijou.

[20] came] come Bijou.

[21] Of Beauty, Truth, and Liberty MS. 1, Bijou.

[23] Ere I] _Ere_ I 1828, 1829. woful] mournful Literary Souvenir.

[25] many] merry Bijou.

[27] fond] false MS. 1, Bijou.

[32] make believe] _make believe_ 1828, 1829.

[34] drooping] dragging MS. 1, Bijou.

[42-4]

That only serves to make me grieve
Now I am old!
Now I am old,--ah woful Now

MS. 1.

[44-5]

In our old age
Whose bruised wings quarrel with the bars of the still
narrowing cage.

Inserted in 1832.

[49] Two lines were added in 1832:--

O might Life cease! and Selfless Mind,
Whose total Being is Act, alone remain behind.

THE REPROOF AND REPLY[441:1]

Or, The Flower-Thief's Apology, for a robbery committed in Mr. and Mrs. ----'s garden, on Sunday morning, 25th of May, 1823, between the hours of eleven and twelve.

"Fie, Mr. Coleridge!--and can this be you?
Break two commandments? and in church-time too!
Have you not heard, or have you heard in vain,
The birth-and-parentage-recording strain?--
Confessions shrill, that out-shrill'd mack'rel drown 5
Fresh from the drop--the youth not yet cut down--
Letter to sweet-heart--the last dying speech--
And didn't all this begin in Sabbath-breach?
You, that knew better! In broad open day,
Steal in, steal out, and steal our flowers away? 10
What could possess you? Ah! sweet youth. I fear
The chap with horns and tail was at your ear!"

Such sounds of late, accusing fancy brought
From fair Chisholm to the Poet's thought.
Now hear the meek Parnassian youth's reply:-- 15
A bow--a pleading look--a downcast eye,--
And then:

"Fair dame! a visionary wight,
Hard by your hill-side mansion sparkling white,
His thoughts all hovering round the Muses' home,
Long hath it been your Poet's wont to roam, 20
And many a morn, on his becharméd sense
So rich a stream of music issued thence,
He deem'd himself, as it flowed warbling on,
Beside the vocal fount of Helicon!
But when, as if to settle the concern, 25
A Nymph too he beheld, in many a turn,
Guiding the sweet rill from its fontal urn,--
Say, can you blame?--No! none that saw and heard
Could blame a bard, that he thus inly stirr'd;
A muse beholding in each fervent trait, 30
Took Mary H---- for Polly Hymnia!
Or haply as there stood beside the maid
One loftier form in sable stole array'd,
If with regretful thought he hail'd in _thee_
Chisholm, his long-lost friend, Mol Pomene! 35
But most of _you_, soft warblings, I complain!
'Twas ye that from the bee-hive of my brain
Did lure the fancies forth, a freakish rout,
And witch'd the air with dreams turn'd inside out.

"Thus all conspir'd--each power of eye and ear, 40
And this gay month, th' enchantress of the year,
To cheat poor me (no conjuror, God wot!)
And Chisholm's self accomplice in the plot.
Can you then wonder if I went astray?
Not bards alone, nor lovers mad as they;-- 45
All Nature _day-dreams_ in the month of May.
And if I pluck'd 'each flower that _sweetest_ blows,'--
Who walks in sleep, needs follow must his _nose_.

"Thus, long accustom'd on the twy-fork'd hill,[442:1]
To pluck both flower and floweret at my will; 50
The garden's maze, like No-man's-land, I tread,
Nor common law, nor statute in my head;
For my own proper smell, sight, fancy, feeling,
With autocratic hand at once repealing
Five Acts of Parliament 'gainst private stealing! 55
But yet from Chisholm who despairs of grace?
There's no spring-gun or man-trap in _that_ face!
Let Moses then look black, and Aaron blue,
That look as if they had little else to do:
For Chisholm speaks, 'Poor youth! he's but a waif! 60
The spoons all right? the hen and chickens safe?
Well, well, he shall not forfeit our regards--
The Eighth Commandment was not made for Bards!'"[443:1]

1823.

FOOTNOTES:

[441:1] First published in _Friendship's Offering_ for 1834, as the first of four 'Lightheartednesses in Rhyme'. A motto was prefixed:--'I expect no sense, worth listening to, from the man who never does talk nonsense,'--_Anon._ In _F. O._, 1834, Chisholm was printed C---- in line 14, C----m in lines 35, 56, and 60, C----m's in line 43. In 1834, 1844 the name was omitted altogether. The text of the present edition follows the MS. First collected in _P. W._, 1834. A MS. version is in the possession of Miss Edith Coleridge. These lines were included in 1844, but omitted from 1852, 1863, and 1870.

[442:1] The English Parnassus is remarkable for its two summits of unequal height, the lower denominated Hampstead, the higher Highgate.

[443:1] Compare '_The Eighth Commandment_ was not made for Love', l. 16 of Elegy I of _The Love Elegies of Abel Shufflebottom_, by R. Southey.

LINENOTES:

Title] The Reproof and Reply (the alternative title is omitted) 1834.

[31] Mary H----] Mary ---- 1834, 1844.

[38] Did lure the] Lured the wild F. O. 1834.

FIRST ADVENT OF LOVE[443:2]

O FAIR is Love's first hope to gentle mind!
As Eve's first star thro' fleecy cloudlet peeping;
And sweeter than the gentle south-west wind.
O'er willowy meads, and shadow'd waters creeping,
And Ceres' golden fields;--the sultry hind 5
Meets it with brow uplift, and stays his reaping.

? 1824.

FOOTNOTES:

[443:2] First published in 1834. In a MS. note, dated September 1827, it is included in 'Relics of my School-boy Muse: i. e. fragments of poems composed before my fifteenth year', _P. W._, 1852, Notes, p. 379; but in an entry in a notebook dated 1824, Coleridge writes: 'A pretty unintended couplet in the prose of Sidney's _Arcadia_:--

'And, sweeter than a gentle south-west wind
O'er flowery fields and shadowed waters creeping
In summer's extreme heat.'

The passage which Coleridge versified is to be found in the _Arcadia_:--

'Her breath is more sweet than a gentle south-west wind, which
comes creeping over flowing fields and shadowed waters in the
heat of summer.'

LINENOTES:

Title] Love's First Hope 1893.

THE DELINQUENT TRAVELLERS[443:3]

Some are home-sick--some two or three,
Their third year on the Arctic Sea--
Brave Captain Lyon tells us so[444:1]--
Spite of those charming Esquimaux.
But O, what scores are sick of Home, 5
Agog for Paris or for Rome!
Nay! tho' contented to abide,
You should prefer your own fireside;
Yet since grim War has ceas'd its madding,
And Peace has set John Bull agadding, 10
'Twould such a vulgar taste betray,
For very shame you must away!
'What? not yet seen the coast of France!
The folks will swear, for lack of bail,
You've spent your last five years in jail!' 15

Keep moving! Steam, or Gas, or Stage,
Hold, cabin, steerage, hencoop's cage--
Tour, Journey, Voyage, Lounge, Ride, Walk,
Skim, Sketch, Excursion, Travel-talk--
For move you must! 'Tis now the rage, 20
The law and fashion of the Age.
If you but perch, where Dover tallies,
So strangely with the coast of Calais,
With a good glass and knowing look,
You'll soon get matter for a book! 25
Or else, in Gas-car, take your chance
Like that adventurous king of France,
Who, once, with twenty thousand men
Went up--and then came down again;
At least, he moved if nothing more: 30
And if there's nought left to explore,
Yet while your well-greased wheels keep spinning,
The traveller's honoured name you're winning,
And, snug as Jonas in the Whale,
You may loll back and dream a tale. 35
Move, or be moved--there's no protection,
Our Mother Earth has ta'en the infection--
(That rogue Copernicus, 'tis said
First put the whirring in her head,)
A planet She, and can't endure 40
T'exist without her annual Tour:
The _name_ were else a mere misnomer,
Since Planet is but Greek for _Roamer_.
The atmosphere, too, can do no less
Than ventilate her emptiness, 45
Bilks turn-pike gates, for no one cares,
And gives herself a thousand airs--
While streams and shopkeepers, we see,
Will have their run toward the sea--
And if, meantime, like old King Log, 50
Or ass with tether and a clog,
Must graze at home! to yawn and bray
'I guess we shall have rain to-day!'
Nor clog nor tether can be worse
Than the dead palsy of the purse. 55
Money, I've heard a wise man say,
Makes herself wings and flys away:
Ah! would She take it in her head
To make a pair for me instead!
At all events, the Fancy's free, 60
No traveller so bold as she.
From Fear and Poverty released
I'll saddle Pegasus, at least,
And when she's seated to her mind,
I within I can mount behind: 65
And since this outward I, you know,
Must stay because he cannot go,
My fellow-travellers shall be they
Who go because they cannot stay--
Rogues, rascals, sharpers, blanks and prizes, 70
Delinquents of all sorts and sizes,
Fraudulent bankrupts, Knights burglarious,
And demireps of means precarious--
All whom Law thwarted, Arms or Arts,
Compel to visit foreign parts, 75
All hail! No compliments, I pray,
I'll follow where you lead the way!
But ere we cross the main once more,
Methinks, along my native shore,
Dismounting from my steed I'll stray 80
Beneath the cliffs of Dumpton Bay.[446:1]
Where, Ramsgate and Broadstairs between,
Rude caves and grated doors are seen:
And here I'll watch till break of day,
(For Fancy in her magic might 85
Can turn broad noon to starless night!)
When lo! methinks a sudden band
Of smock-clad smugglers round me stand.
Denials, oaths, in vain I try,
At once they gag me for a spy, 90
And stow me in the boat hard by.
Suppose us fairly now afloat,
Till Boulogne mouth receives our Boat.
But, bless us! what a numerous band
Of cockneys anglicise the strand! 95
Delinquent bankrupts, leg-bail'd debtors,
Some for the news, and some for letters--
With hungry look and tarnished dress,
French shrugs and British surliness.
Sick of the country for their sake 100
Of them and France _French leave_ I take--
And lo! a transport comes in view
I hear the merry motley crew,
Well skill'd in pocket to make entry,
Of Dieman's Land the elected Gentry, 105
And founders of Australian Races.--
The Rogues! I see it in their faces!
Receive me, Lads! I'll go with you,
Hunt the black swan and kangaroo,
And that New Holland we'll presume 110
Old England with some elbow-room.
Across the mountains we will roam,
And each man make himself a home:
Or, if old habits ne'er forsaking,
Like clock-work of the Devil's making, 115
Ourselves inveterate rogues should be,
We'll have a virtuous progeny;
And on the dunghill of our vices
Raise human pine-apples and spices.
Of all the children of John Bull 120
With empty heads and bellies full,
Who ramble East, West, North and South,
With leaky purse and open mouth,
In search of varieties exotic
The usefullest and most patriotic, 125
And merriest, too, believe me, Sirs!
Are your Delinquent Travellers!

1824.

FOOTNOTES: