Chapter VIII: Appendix: VI (4)

'_When Mr. Burke first crossed over the House of Commons from the Opposition to the Ministry, he received a pension of £1200 a year charged on the Kings Privy Purse._ When he had completed his labours, it was then a question what recompense his service deserved. Mr. Burke wanting a present supply of money, it was thought that a pension of £2000 _per annum_ for _forty years certain_, would sell for eighteen years' purchase, and bring him of course £36,000. But this pension must, by the very unfortunate act, of which Mr. Burke was himself the author, have come before Parliament. Instead of this Mr. Pitt suggested the idea of a pension of £2000 a year for _three lives_, to be charged on the King's Revenue of the West India 4-1/2 per cents. This was tried at the market, but it was found that it would not produce the £36,000 which were wanted. In consequence of this a pension of £2500 per annum, _for three lives_ on the 4-1/2 West India Fund, the lives to be nominated by Mr. Burke, that he may accommodate the purchasers is _finally_ granted to this disinterested patriot. He has thus retir'd from the trade of politics, with pensions to the amount of £3700 a year.' 1796, Note, pp. 177-9.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion ii. 1796: Sonnet vii. 1803: Sonnet ii. 1828, 1829, 1834.

[1] As late I roam'd through Fancy's shadowy vale MS. Letter, Dec. 11, 1794.

[4] She] He MS. Letter, 1794.

[12] Urg'd on with wild'ring fires MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1794, M. C.

[Below l. 14] Jesus College M. C.

III[81:1]

PRIESTLEY

Though rous'd by that dark Vizir Riot rude
Have driven our PRIESTLEY o'er the Ocean swell;
Though Superstition and her wolfish brood
Bay his mild radiance, impotent and fell;
Calm in his halls of brightness he shall dwell! 5
For lo! RELIGION at his strong behest
Starts with mild anger from the Papal spell,
And flings to Earth her tinsel-glittering vest,
Her mitred State and cumbrous Pomp unholy;
And JUSTICE wakes to bid th' Oppressor wail 10
Insulting aye the wrongs of patient Folly;
And from her dark retreat by Wisdom won
Meek NATURE slowly lifts her matron veil
To smile with fondness on her gazing Son!

_December_ 11, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[81:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 11, 1794: included in 1796, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. In all editions prior to 1852, 'Priestley' is spelled 'Priestly'. The Sonnet was sent to Southey in a letter dated December 17, 1794.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion iv. 1796: Sonnet ix. 1803: Sonnet iii. 1828, 1829, 1834.

[1-2]

Tho' king-bred rage with lawless uproar rude
Hath driv'n

M. C.

Tho' king-bred rage with lawless tumult rude
Have driv'n

MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1794.

[7] Disdainful rouses from the Papal spell, M. C., MS. Letter, 1794.

[11] That ground th' ensnared soul of patient Folly. M. C., MS. Letter, 1794.

IV[82:1]

LA FAYETTE

As when far off the warbled strains are heard
That soar on Morning's wing the vales among;
Within his cage the imprison'd Matin Bird
Swells the full chorus with a generous song:

He bathes no pinion in the dewy light, 5
No Father's joy, no Lover's bliss he shares,
Yet still the rising radiance cheers his sight--
His fellows' Freedom soothes the Captive's cares!

Thou, FAYETTE! who didst wake with startling voice
Life's better Sun from that long wintry night, 10
Thus in thy Country's triumphs shalt rejoice
And mock with raptures high the Dungeon's might:

For lo! the Morning struggles into Day,
And Slavery's spectres shriek and vanish from the ray![82:2]

_December_ 15, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[82:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 15, 1794: included in 1796, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[82:2] The above beautiful sonnet was written antecedently to the joyful account of the Patriot's escape from the Tyrant's Dungeon. [Note in _M. C._]

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion ix. 1796: Sonnet xiii. 1803: Sonnet vii. 1828, 1829, 1834.

V[82:3]

KOSKIUSKO

O what a loud and fearful shriek was there,
As though a thousand souls one death-groan pour'd!
Ah me! they saw beneath a Hireling's sword
Their KOSKIUSKO fall! Through the swart air
(As pauses the tir'd Cossac's barbarous yell 5
Of Triumph) on the chill and midnight gale
Rises with frantic burst or sadder swell
The dirge of murder'd Hope! while Freedom pale
Bends in such anguish o'er her destin'd bier,
As if from eldest time some Spirit meek 10
Had gather'd in a mystic urn each tear
That ever on a Patriot's furrow'd cheek
Fit channel found; and she had drain'd the bowl
In the mere wilfulness, and sick despair of soul!

_December_ 16, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[82:3] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 16, 1794: included in 1796, 1828, 1829, 1834. The Sonnet was sent to Southey in a letter dated December 17, 1794. _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 117.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion viii. 1796: Sonnet vi. 1828, 1829, 1834.

[3-4]

Great _Kosciusko_ 'neath an hireling's sword
The warriors view'd! Hark! through the list'ning air

MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1794.

Great KOSCIUSKO 'neath an Hireling's sword
His country view'd. Hark through the list'ning air

M. C.

Ah me! they view'd beneath an hireling's sword
Fall'n Kosciusko! Thro' the burthened air

1796, 1828, 1829.

[5] As] When M. C., MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1794.

[8] The 'dirge of Murder'd Hope' MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1794.

[12] That ever furrow'd a sad Patriot's cheek MS. Letter, 1794, M. C., 1796.

[13-14]

And she had drench'd the sorrows of the bowl
E'en till she reel'd intoxicate of soul

MS. Letter, 1794, M. C.

And she had drain'd the sorrows of the bowl
E'en till she reel'd, &c.

1796.

VI[83:1]

PITT

Not always should the Tear's ambrosial dew
Roll its soft anguish down thy furrow'd cheek!
Not always heaven-breath'd tones of Suppliance meek
Beseem thee, Mercy! Yon dark Scowler view,
Who with proud words of dear-lov'd Freedom came-- 5
More blasting than the mildew from the South!
And kiss'd his country with Iscariot mouth
(Ah! foul apostate from his Father's fame!)[83:2]
Then fix'd her on the Cross of deep distress,
And at safe distance marks the thirsty Lance 10
Pierce her big side! But O! if some strange trance
The eye-lids of thy stern-brow'd Sister[83:3] press,
Seize, Mercy! thou more terrible the brand, 13
And hurl her thunderbolts with fiercer hand!

_December_ 23, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[83:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 23, 1794, and, secondly, in _The Watchman_, No. V, April 2, 1796; included in 1796, 1803, and in 1852, with the following note:--'This Sonnet, and the ninth, to Stanhope, were among the pieces withdrawn from the second edition of 1797. They reappeared in the edition of 1803, and were again withdrawn in 1828, solely, it may be presumed, on account of their political vehemence. They will excite no angry feelings, and lead to no misapprehensions now, and as they are fully equal to their companions in poetical merit, the Editors have not scrupled to reproduce them. These Sonnets were originally entitled "Effusions".'

[83:2] Earl of Chatham.

[83:3] Justice.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion iii. 1796: To Mercy Watchman: Sonnet viii. 1803: Sonnet iii. 1852.

[8] Staining most foul a Godlike Father's name M. C., Watchman.

[13] Seize thou more terrible th' avenging brand M. C.

VII[84:1]

TO THE REV. W. L. BOWLES[84:2]

[FIRST VERSION, PRINTED IN 'MORNING CHRONICLE', DECEMBER 26, 1794]

My heart has thank'd thee, BOWLES! for those soft strains,
That, on the still air floating, tremblingly
Wak'd in me Fancy, Love, and Sympathy!
For hence, not callous to a Brother's pains

Thro' Youth's gay prime and thornless paths I went; 5
And, when the _darker_ day of life began,
And I did roam, a thought-bewilder'd man!
Thy kindred Lays an healing solace lent,

Each lonely pang with dreamy joys combin'd,
And stole from vain REGRET her scorpion stings; 10
While shadowy PLEASURE, with mysterious wings,
Brooded the wavy and tumultuous mind,

Like that great Spirit, who with plastic sweep
Mov'd on the darkness of the formless Deep!

FOOTNOTES:

[84:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 26, 1794. First collected, _P. and D. W._, 1877, i. 138. The sonnet was sent in a letter to Southey, dated December 11, 1794. _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 111.

[84:2] Author of _Sonnets and other Poems_, published by Dilly. To Mr. Bowles's poetry I have always thought the following remarks from Maximus Tyrius peculiarly applicable:--'I am not now treating of that poetry which is estimated by the pleasure it affords to the ear--the ear having been corrupted, and the judgment-seat of the perceptions; but of that which proceeds from the intellectual Helicon, that which is _dignified_, and appertaining to _human_ feelings, and entering into the soul.'--The 13th Sonnet for exquisite delicacy of painting; the 19th for tender simplicity; and the 25th for manly pathos, are compositions of, perhaps, unrivalled merit. Yet while I am selecting these, I almost accuse myself of causeless partiality; for surely never was a writer so equal in excellence!--S. T. C. [In this note as it first appeared in the _Morning Chronicle_ a Greek sentence preceded the supposed English translation. It is not to be found in the _Dissertations_ of Maximus Tyrius, but the following passage which, for verbal similitudes, may be compared with others (e. g. 20, 8, p. 243: 21, 3, p. 247; 28, 3, p. 336) is to be found in Davies and Markland's edition (Lips. 1725), vol. ii, p. 203:--Οὔ τί τοι λέγω τὴν δἰ' αὐλῶν καὶ ᾠδῶν καὶ χορῶν καὶ ψαλμάτων, ἄνευ λόγου ἐπὶ τῇ ψυχῇ ἰοῦσαν, τῷ τερπνῷ τῆς ἀκοῆς τιμηθεῖσαν . . . τὴν ἀληθῆ καὶ ἐκ τοῦ Ἑλικῶνος μοῦσαν. . . .]

LINENOTES:

[3] Wak'd] Woke MS. Letter, Dec. 11, 1794.

[SECOND VERSION][85:1]

My heart has thank'd thee, BOWLES! for those soft strains
Whose sadness soothes me, like the murmuring
Of wild-bees in the sunny showers of spring!
For hence not callous to the mourner's pains

Through Youth's gay prime and thornless paths I went: 5
And when the mightier Throes of mind began,
And drove me forth, a thought-bewilder'd man,
Their mild and manliest melancholy lent

A mingled charm, such as the pang consign'd
To slumber, though the big tear it renew'd; 10
Bidding a strange mysterious PLEASURE brood
Over the wavy and tumultuous mind,

As the great SPIRIT erst with plastic sweep
Mov'd on the darkness of the unform'd deep.

FOOTNOTES:

[85:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion i. 1796: Sonnet i. 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[6-7]

And when the darker day of life began
And I did roam, &c.

1796, 1797, 1803.

[9] such as] which oft 1797, 1803.

[11] a] such 1797, 1803.

[13-14]

As made the soul enamour'd of her woe:
No common praise, dear Bard! to thee I owe.

1797, 1803.

VIII[85:2]

MRS. SIDDONS

As when a child on some long Winter's night
Affrighted clinging to its Grandam's knees
With eager wond'ring and perturb'd delight
Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees
Muttered to wretch by necromantic spell; 5
Or of those hags, who at the witching time
Of murky Midnight ride the air sublime,
And mingle foul embrace with fiends of Hell:

Cold Horror drinks its blood! Anon the tear
More gentle starts, to hear the Beldame tell 10
Of pretty Babes, that lov'd each other dear.
Murder'd by cruel Uncle's mandate fell:

Even such the shiv'ring joys thy tones impart,
Even so thou, SIDDONS! meltest my sad heart!

_December_ 29, 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[85:2] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, December 29, 1794, under the signature, S. T. C.: included in 1796 (as C. L.'s) and in 1797 as Charles Lamb's, but reassigned to Coleridge in 1803. First collected, _P. and D. W._, 1877, i. 140, 141. This sonnet may have been altered by Coleridge, but was no doubt written by Lamb and given by him to Coleridge to make up his tale of sonnets for the _Morning Chronicle_. In 1796 and 1797 Coleridge acknowledged the sonnet to be Lamb's; but in 1803, Lamb, who was seeing that volume through the press, once more handed it over to Coleridge.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion vii. 1796: Sonnet viii. 1797, p. 224: Sonnet xii. 1803.

[4] dark tales of fearful strange decrees M. C.

[6] Of Warlock Hags that M. C.

IX

TO WILLIAM GODWIN[86:1]

AUTHOR OF 'POLITICAL JUSTICE'

O form'd t' illume a sunless world forlorn,
As o'er the chill and dusky brow of Night,
In Finland's wintry skies the Mimic Morn[86:2]
Electric pours a stream of rosy light,

Pleas'd I have mark'd OPPRESSION, terror-pale, 5
Since, thro' the windings of her dark machine,
Thy steady eye has shot its glances keen--
And bade th' All-lovely 'scenes at distance hail'.

Nor will I not thy holy guidance bless,
And hymn thee, GODWIN! with an ardent lay; 10
For that thy voice, in Passion's stormy day,
When wild I roam'd the bleak Heath of Distress,

Bade the bright form of Justice meet my way--
And told me that her name was HAPPINESS.

_January_ 10, 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[86:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, January 10, 1795. First collected, _P. and D. W._, 1877, i. 143. The last six lines were sent in a letter to Southey, dated December 17, 1794. _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 117.

[86:2] Aurora Borealis.

X[87:1]

TO ROBERT SOUTHEY

OF BALIOL COLLEGE, OXFORD, AUTHOR OF THE 'RETROSPECT', AND OTHER POEMS

SOUTHEY! thy melodies steal o'er mine ear
Like far-off joyance, or the murmuring
Of wild bees in the sunny showers of Spring--
Sounds of such mingled import as may cheer

The lonely breast, yet rouse a mindful tear: 5
Wak'd by the Song doth Hope-born FANCY fling
Rich showers of dewy fragrance from her wing,
Till sickly PASSION'S drooping Myrtles sear

Blossom anew! But O! more thrill'd, I prize
Thy sadder strains, that bid in MEMORY'S Dream 10
The faded forms of past Delight arise;
Then soft, on Love's pale cheek, the tearful gleam

Of Pleasure smiles--as faint yet beauteous lies
The imag'd Rainbow on a willowy stream.

_January_ 14, 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[87:1] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, January 14, 1795. First collected, _P. and D. W._, 1877, i. 142. This sonnet was sent in a letter to Southey, dated December 17, 1794. _Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 120.

XI[87:2]

TO RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN, ESQ.

It was some Spirit, SHERIDAN! that breath'd
O'er thy young mind such wildly-various power!
My soul hath mark'd thee in her shaping hour,
Thy temples with Hymettian[88:1] flow'rets wreath'd:

And sweet thy voice, as when o'er LAURA'S bier 5
Sad Music trembled thro' Vauclusa's glade;
Sweet, as at dawn the love-lorn Serenade
That wafts soft dreams to SLUMBER'S listening ear.

Now patriot Rage and Indignation high
Swell the full tones! And now thine eye-beams dance 10
Meanings of Scorn and Wit's quaint revelry!
Writhes inly from the bosom-probing glance

The Apostate by the brainless rout ador'd,
As erst that elder Fiend beneath great Michael's sword.

_January_ 29, 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[87:2] First published in the _Morning Chronicle_, January 29, 1795: included in 1796, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. Two MS. versions are extant; one in a letter to Southey, dated December 9, 1794 (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 118), and a second in the Estlin copy-book. In 1796 a note to line 4 was included in Notes, p. 179, and in 1797 and 1803 affixed as a footnote, p. 95:--'Hymettian Flowrets. Hymettus, a mountain near Athens, celebrated for its honey. This alludes to Mr. Sheridan's classical attainments, and the following four lines to the exquisite sweetness and almost _Italian_ delicacy of his poetry. In Shakespeare's _Lover's Complaint_ there is a fine stanza almost prophetically characteristic of Mr. Sheridan.

So on the tip of his subduing tongue
All kind of argument and question deep,
All replication prompt and reason strong
For his advantage still did wake and sleep,
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep:
He had the dialect and different skill
Catching all passions in his craft of will;
That he did in the general bosom reign
Of young and old.'

[88:1] Hymettus, a mountain of Attica famous for honey. _M. C._

LINENOTES:

Title] To Sheridan MS. E: Effusion vi. 1796: Sonnet xi. 1803: Sonnet v. 1828, 1829, 1834.

[1-5]

Some winged Genius, Sheridan! imbreath'd
His _various_ influence on thy natal hour:
My fancy bodies forth the Guardian power,
His temples with Hymettian flowrets wreath'd
And sweet his voice

MS. Letter, Dec. 9, 1794.

[1-2]

Was it some Spirit, SHERIDAN! that breath'd
His _various_ &c.

M. C.

[1-3]

Some winged Genius, Sheridan! imbreath'd
O'er thy young Soul a wildly-various power!
My Fancy meets thee in her shaping hour

MS. E.

[8] wafts] bears MS. Letter, 1794, M. C., MS. E.

[9] Rage] Zeal MS. Letter, 1794, MS. E, M. C.

[10] thine] his Letter, 1794, M. C.

[12]

While inly writhes from the Soul-probing glance

M. C.

[12-14]

Th' Apostate by the brainless rout ador'd
Writhes inly from the bosom-probing glance
As erst that nobler Fiend

MS. Letter, 1794, MS. E.

[14] elder] other M. C.

TO LORD STANHOPE[89:1]

ON READING HIS LATE PROTEST IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS

['MORNING CHRONICLE,' JAN. 31, 1795]

STANHOPE! I hail, with ardent Hymn, thy name!
Thou shalt be bless'd and lov'd, when in the dust
Thy corse shall moulder--Patriot pure and just!
And o'er thy tomb the grateful hand of FAME

Shall grave:--'Here sleeps the Friend of Humankind!' 5
For thou, untainted by CORRUPTION'S bowl,
Or foul AMBITION, with undaunted soul
Hast spoke the language of a Free-born mind

Pleading the cause of Nature! Still pursue
Thy path of Honour!--To thy Country true, 10

Still watch th' expiring flame of Liberty!
O Patriot! still pursue thy virtuous way,
As holds his course the splendid Orb of Day,
Or thro' the stormy or the tranquil sky!
ONE OF THE PEOPLE.

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[89:1] First collected in 1893. Mr. Campbell assigned the authorship of the Sonnet to Coleridge, taking it to be 'the original of the one to Stanhope printed in the _Poems_ of 1796 and 1803'. For 'Corruption's bowl' (l. 6) see _Sonnet to Burke_, line 9 (_ante_, p. 80).

TO EARL STANHOPE[89:2]

Not, STANHOPE! with the Patriot's doubtful name
I mock thy worth--Friend of the Human Race!
Since scorning Faction's low and partial aim
Aloof thou wendest in thy stately pace,

Thyself redeeming from that leprous stain, 5
Nobility: and aye unterrify'd
Pourest thine Abdiel warnings on the train
That sit complotting with rebellious pride

'Gainst _Her_[90:1] who from the Almighty's bosom leapt
With whirlwind arm, fierce Minister of Love! 10
Wherefore, ere Virtue o'er thy tomb hath wept,
Angels shall lead thee to the Throne above:

And thou from forth its clouds shalt hear the voice,
Champion of Freedom and her God! rejoice!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[89:2] First published in 1796: included in 1803, in Cottle's _Early Rec._ i. 203, and in _Rem._ 1848, p. 111. First collected in 1852.

[90:1] Gallic Liberty.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion x. 1796 (To Earl Stanhope _Contents_): Sonnet xvi. 1803: Sonnet ix. 1852.

LINES[90:2]

TO A FRIEND IN ANSWER TO A MELANCHOLY LETTER

Away, those cloudy looks, that labouring sigh,
The peevish offspring of a sickly hour!
Nor meanly thus complain of Fortune's power,
When the blind Gamester throws a luckless die.

Yon setting Sun flashes a mournful gleam 5
Behind those broken clouds, his stormy train:
To-morrow shall the many-colour'd main
In brightness roll beneath his orient beam!

Wild, as the autumnal gust, the hand of Time
Flies o'er his mystic lyre: in shadowy dance 10
The alternate groups of Joy and Grief advance
Responsive to his varying strains sublime!

Bears on its wing each hour a load of Fate;
The swain, who, lull'd by Seine's mild murmurs, led
His weary oxen to their nightly shed, 15
To-day may rule a tempest-troubled State.

Nor shall not Fortune with a vengeful smile
Survey the sanguinary Despot's might,
And haply hurl the Pageant from his height
Unwept to wander in some savage isle. 20

There shiv'ring sad beneath the tempest's frown
Round his tir'd limbs to wrap the purple vest;
And mix'd with nails and beads, an equal jest!
Barter for food, the jewels of his crown.

? 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[90:2] First published in 1796: included in 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Epistle II. To a Friend, &c. 1796: To a Friend, &c. 1803.

TO AN INFANT[91:1]

Ah! cease thy tears and sobs, my little Life!
I did but snatch away the unclasp'd knife:
Some safer toy will soon arrest thine eye,
And to quick laughter change this peevish cry!
Poor stumbler on the rocky coast of Woe, 5
Tutor'd by Pain each source of pain to know!
Alike the foodful fruit and scorching fire
Awake thy eager grasp and young desire;
Alike the Good, the Ill offend thy sight,
And rouse the stormy sense of shrill Affright! 10
Untaught, yet wise! mid all thy brief alarms
Thou closely clingest to thy Mother's arms,
Nestling thy little face in that fond breast
Whose anxious heavings lull thee to thy rest!
Man's breathing Miniature! thou mak'st me sigh-- 15
A Babe art thou--and such a Thing am I!
To anger rapid and as soon appeas'd,
For trifles mourning and by trifles pleas'd,
Break Friendship's mirror with a tetchy blow,
Yet snatch what coals of fire on Pleasure's altar glow! 20

O thou that rearest with celestial aim
The future Seraph in my mortal frame,
Thrice holy Faith! whatever thorns I meet
As on I totter with unpractis'd feet,
Still let me stretch my arms and cling to thee, 25
Meek nurse of souls through their long Infancy!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[91:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797 (_Supplement_), 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. A MS. version numbering 16 lines is included in the Estlin volume.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxxiv. To an Infant 1796.

[1-10]

How yon sweet Child my Bosom's grief beguiles
With soul-subduing Eloquence of smiles!
Ah lovely Babe! in thee myself I scan--
Thou weepest! sure those Tears proclaim thee Man!
And now some glitt'ring Toy arrests thine eye,
And to quick laughter turns the peevish cry.
Poor Stumbler on the rocky coast of Woe,
Tutor'd by Pain the source of Pain to know!
Alike the foodful Fruit and scorching Fire
Awake thy eager grasp and young desire;
Alike the Good, the Ill thy aching sight
Scare with the keen Emotions of Affright!

MS. E.

[8-11]

Or rouse thy screams, or wake thy young desire:
Yet art thou wise, for mid thy brief alarms

1797.

[9-10] om. 1797.

[14] Whose kindly Heavings lull thy cares to Rest MS. E.

[19] tetchy] fretful 1797.

TO THE REV. W. J. HORT[92:1]

WHILE TEACHING A YOUNG LADY SOME SONG-TUNES ON HIS FLUTE

I

Hush! ye clamorous Cares! be mute!
Again, dear Harmonist! again
Thro' the hollow of thy flute
Breathe that passion-warbled strain:
Till Memory each form shall bring 5
The loveliest of her shadowy throng;
And Hope, that soars on sky-lark wing,
Carol wild her gladdest song!

II

O skill'd with magic spell to roll
The thrilling tones, that concentrate the soul! 10
Breathe thro' thy flute those tender notes again,
While near thee sits the chaste-eyed Maiden mild;
And bid her raise the Poet's kindred strain
In soft impassion'd voice, correctly wild.

III

In Freedom's UNDIVIDED dell, 15
Where _Toil_ and _Health_ with mellow'd _Love_ shall dwell,
Far from folly, far from men,
In the rude romantic glen,
Up the cliff, and thro' the glade,
Wandering with the dear-lov'd maid, 20
I shall listen to the lay,
And ponder on thee far away
Still, as she bids those thrilling notes aspire
('Making my fond attuned heart her lyre'),
Thy honour'd form, my Friend! shall reappear, 25
And I will thank thee with a raptur'd tear.

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[92:1] First published in 1796, and again in 1863.

LINENOTES:

Title] To the Rev. W. J. H. while Teaching, &c. 1796, 1863.

[24] her] his 1863.

PITY[93:1]

Sweet Mercy! how my very heart has bled
To see thee, poor Old Man! and thy grey hairs
Hoar with the snowy blast: while no one cares
To clothe thy shrivell'd limbs and palsied head.
My Father! throw away this tatter'd vest 5
That mocks thy shivering! take my garment--use
A young man's arm! I'll melt these frozen dews
That hang from thy white beard and numb thy breast.
My Sara too shall tend thee, like a child:
And thou shalt talk, in our fireside's recess, 10
Of purple Pride, that scowls on Wretchedness--
He did not so, the Galilaean mild,
Who met the Lazars turn'd from rich men's doors
And call'd them Friends, and heal'd their noisome sores!

? 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[93:1] First published in 1796: included in _Selection of Sonnets_, _Poems_ 1796, in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xvi. 1796 (_Contents_--To an Old Man): Sonnet vi. 1797: Sonnet v. 1803: Sonnet x. 1828, 1829, 1834: Charity 1893.

[7] arm] arms 1796, 1828.

[12-14]

He did not scowl, the Galilaean mild,
Who met the Lazar turn'd from rich man's doors,
And call'd him Friend, and wept upon his sores.

1797, 1803.

[13] men's] man's 1796, Selection of Sonnets, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

TO THE NIGHTINGALE[93:2]

Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philomel!
How many Bards in city garret pent,
While at their window they with downward eye
Mark the faint lamp-beam on the kennell'd mud,
And listen to the drowsy cry of Watchmen 5
(Those hoarse unfeather'd Nightingales of Time!),
How many wretched Bards address _thy_ name,
And hers, the full-orb'd Queen that shines above.
But I _do_ hear thee, and the high bough mark,
Within whose mild moon-mellow'd foliage hid 10
Thou warblest sad thy pity-pleading strains.
O! I have listened, till my working soul,
Waked by those strains to thousand phantasies,
Absorb'd hath ceas'd to listen! Therefore oft,
I hymn thy name: and with a proud delight 15
Oft will I tell thee, Minstrel of the Moon!
'Most musical, most melancholy' Bird!
That all thy soft diversities of tone,
Tho' sweeter far than the delicious airs
That vibrate from a white-arm'd Lady's harp, 20
What time the languishment of lonely love
Melts in her eye, and heaves her breast of snow,
Are not so sweet as is the voice of her,
My Sara--best beloved of human kind!
When breathing the pure soul of tenderness, 25
She thrills me with the Husband's promis'd name!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[93:2] First published in 1796: included in 1803 and in _Lit. Rem._, i. 38. First collected in 1844.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxiii. To the, &c. 1796.

[12] O have I 1796.

LINES[94:1]

COMPOSED WHILE CLIMBING THE LEFT ASCENT OF BROCKLEY COOMB, SOMERSETSHIRE, MAY 1795

With many a pause and oft reverted eye
I climb the Coomb's ascent: sweet songsters near
Warble in shade their wild-wood melody:
Far off the unvarying Cuckoo soothes my ear.
Up scour the startling stragglers of the flock 5
That on green plots o'er precipices browze:
From the deep fissures of the naked rock
The Yew-tree bursts! Beneath its dark green boughs
(Mid which the May-thorn blends its blossoms white)
Where broad smooth stones jut out in mossy seats, 10
I rest:--and now have gain'd the topmost site.
Ah! what a luxury of landscape meets
My gaze! Proud towers, and Cots more dear to me,
Elm-shadow'd Fields, and prospect-bounding Sea!
Deep sighs my lonely heart: I drop the tear: 15
Enchanting spot! O were my Sara here!

FOOTNOTES:

[94:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797 (_Supplement_), 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxi. Composed while climbing the Left Ascent of Brockley Coomb, in the County of Somerset, May 1795 1796: Sonnet v. Composed, &c. 1797: Sonnet xiv. Composed, &c. 1803.

[7] deep] forc'd 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

LINES IN THE MANNER OF SPENSER[94:2]

O Peace, that on a lilied bank dost love
To rest thine head beneath an Olive-Tree,
I would that from the pinions of thy Dove
One quill withouten pain ypluck'd might be!
For O! I wish my Sara's frowns to flee, 5
And fain to her some soothing song would write,
Lest she resent my rude discourtesy,
Who vow'd to meet her ere the morning light,
But broke my plighted word--ah! false and recreant wight!

Last night as I my weary head did pillow 10
With thoughts of my dissever'd Fair engross'd,
Chill Fancy droop'd wreathing herself with willow,
As though my breast entomb'd a pining ghost.
'From some blest couch, young Rapture's bridal boast,
Rejected Slumber! hither wing thy way; 15
But leave me with the matin hour, at most!
As night-clos'd floweret to the orient ray,
My sad heart will expand, when I the Maid survey.'

But Love, who heard the silence of my thought,
Contriv'd a too successful wile, I ween: 20
And whisper'd to himself, with malice fraught--
'Too long our Slave the Damsel's _smiles_ hath seen:
To-morrow shall he ken her alter'd mien!'
He spake, and ambush'd lay, till on my bed
The morning shot her dewy glances keen, 25
When as I 'gan to lift my drowsy head--
'Now, Bard! I'll work thee woe!' the laughing Elfin said.

Sleep, softly-breathing God! his downy wing
Was fluttering now, as quickly to depart;
When twang'd an arrow from Love's mystic string, 30
With pathless wound it pierc'd him to the heart.
Was there some magic in the Elfin's dart?
Or did he strike my couch with wizard lance?
For straight so fair a Form did upwards start
(No fairer deck'd the bowers of old Romance) 35
That Sleep enamour'd grew, nor mov'd from his sweet trance!

My Sara came, with gentlest look divine;
Bright shone her eye, yet tender was its beam:
I felt the pressure of her lip to mine!
Whispering we went, and Love was all our theme-- 40
Love pure and spotless, as at first, I deem,
He sprang from Heaven! Such joys with Sleep did 'bide,
That I the living Image of my Dream
Fondly forgot. Too late I woke, and sigh'd--
'O! how shall I behold my Love at eventide!' 45

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[94:2] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxiv. In the, &c. 1796: In the, &c. 1797.

[17] Like snowdrop opening to the solar ray, 1796.

[19] 'heard the silence of my thought' 1797, 1803.

[26] to lift] uplift 1797, 1803.

[Below l. 45] July 1795 1797, 1803.

THE HOUR WHEN WE SHALL MEET AGAIN[96:1]

(_Composed during Illness, and in Absence._)

Dim Hour! that sleep'st on pillowing clouds afar,
O rise and yoke the Turtles to thy car!
Bend o'er the traces, blame each lingering Dove,
And give me to the bosom of my Love!
My gentle Love, caressing and carest, 5
With heaving heart shall cradle me to rest!
Shed the warm tear-drop from her smiling eyes,
Lull with fond woe, and medicine me with sighs!
While finely-flushing float her kisses meek,
Like melted rubies, o'er my pallid cheek. 10
Chill'd by the night, the drooping Rose of May
Mourns the long absence of the lovely Day;
Young Day returning at her promis'd hour
Weeps o'er the sorrows of her favourite Flower;
Weeps the soft dew, the balmy gale she sighs, 15
And darts a trembling lustre from her eyes.
New life and joy th' expanding flow'ret feels:
His pitying Mistress mourns, and mourning heals!

? 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[96:1] First published in _The Watchman_, No. III, March 17, 1796 (_signed_ C.): included in 1797, 1803, 1844, and 1852. It was first reprinted, after 1803, in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 43, under 'the sportive title "Darwiniana", on the supposition that it was written' in half-mockery of Darwin's style with its _dulcia vitia_. (See 1852, _Notes_, p. 885.)

LINENOTES:

Title] Darwiniana. The Hour, &c. L. R., 1844: Composed during illness and absence 1852.

[9-10] om. 1803.

[14] her] the Lit. Rem., 1844, 1852.

[17] New] Now Watchman.

LINES[96:2]

WRITTEN AT SHURTON BARS, NEAR BRIDGEWATER, SEPTEMBER 1795, IN ANSWER TO A LETTER FROM BRISTOL

Good verse _most_ good, and bad verse then seems better
Receiv'd from absent friend by way of Letter.
For what so sweet can labour'd lays impart
As one rude rhyme warm from a friendly heart?--ANON.

Nor travels my meandering eye
The starry wilderness on high;
Nor now with curious sight
I mark the glow-worm, as I pass,
Move with 'green radiance'[97:1] through the grass, 5
An emerald of light.

O ever present to my view!
My wafted spirit is with you,
And soothes your boding fears:
I see you all oppressed with gloom 10
Sit lonely in that cheerless room--
Ah me! You are in tears!

Belovéd Woman! did you fly
Chill'd Friendship's dark disliking eye,
Or Mirth's untimely din? 15
With cruel weight these trifles press
A temper sore with tenderness,
When aches the void within.

But why with sable wand unblessed
Should Fancy rouse within my breast 20
Dim-visag'd shapes of Dread?
Untenanting its beauteous clay
My Sara's soul has wing'd its way,
And hovers round my head!

I felt it prompt the tender Dream, 25
When slowly sank the day's last gleam;
You rous'd each gentler sense,
As sighing o'er the Blossom's bloom
Meek Evening wakes its soft perfume
With viewless influence. 30

And hark, my Love! The sea-breeze moans
Through yon reft house! O'er rolling stones
In bold ambitious sweep
The onward-surging tides supply
The silence of the cloudless sky 35
With mimic thunders deep.

Dark reddening from the channell'd Isle[98:1]
(Where stands one solitary pile
Unslated by the blast)
The Watchfire, like a sullen star 40
Twinkles to many a dozing Tar
Rude cradled on the mast.

Even there--beneath that light-house tower--
In the tumultuous evil hour
Ere Peace with Sara came, 45
Time was, I should have thought it sweet
To count the echoings of my feet,
And watch the storm-vex'd flame.

And there in black soul-jaundic'd fit
A sad gloom-pamper'd Man to sit, 50
And listen to the roar:
When mountain surges bellowing deep
With an uncouth monster-leap
Plung'd foaming on the shore.

Then by the lightning's blaze to mark 55
Some toiling tempest-shatter'd bark;
Her vain distress-guns hear;
And when a second sheet of light
Flash'd o'er the blackness of the night--
To see _no_ vessel there! 60

But Fancy now more gaily sings;
Or if awhile she droop her wings,
As skylarks 'mid the corn,
On summer fields she grounds her breast:
The oblivious poppy o'er her nest 65
Nods, till returning morn.

O mark those smiling tears, that swell
The open'd rose! From heaven they fell,
And with the sun-beam blend.
Blest visitations from above, 70
Such are the tender woes of Love
Fostering the heart they bend!

When stormy Midnight howling round
Beats on our roof with clattering sound,
To me your arms you'll stretch: 75
Great God! you'll say--To us so kind,
O shelter from this loud bleak wind
The houseless, friendless wretch!

The tears that tremble down your cheek,
Shall bathe my kisses chaste and meek 80
In Pity's dew divine;
And from your heart the sighs that steal
Shall make your rising bosom feel
The answering swell of mine!

How oft, my Love! with shapings sweet 85
I paint the moment, we shall meet!
With eager speed I dart--
I seize you in the vacant air,
And fancy, with a husband's care
I press you to my heart! 90

'Tis said, in Summer's evening hour
Flashes the golden-colour'd flower
A fair electric flame:[99:1]
And so shall flash my love-charg'd eye
When all the heart's big ecstasy 95
Shoots rapid through the frame!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[96:1] First published in _The Watchman_, No. III, March 9, 1796 (_signed_ C.): included in 1797, 1803, 1844, and 1852. It was first reprinted, after 1803, in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 43, under 'the sportive title "Darwiniana", on the supposition that it was written' in half-mockery of Darwin's style with its _dulcia vitia_. (See 1852, _Notes_, p. 885.)

[96:2] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[97:1] The expression 'green radiance' is borrowed from Mr. Wordsworth, a Poet whose versification is occasionally harsh and his diction too frequently obscure; but whom I deem unrivalled among the writers of the present day in manly sentiment, novel imagery, and vivid colouring. Note, 1796, p. 185: Footnote, 1797, p. 88.

[The phrase 'green radiance' occurs in _An Evening Walk_, ll. 264-8, first published in 1793, and reprinted in 1820. In 1836 the lines were omitted.

Oft has she taught them on her lap to play
Delighted with the glow-worm's harmless ray,
Toss'd light from hand to hand; while on the ground
Small circles of green radiance gleam around.]

[98:1] The Holmes, in the Bristol Channel.

[99:1] LIGHT _from plants_. In Sweden a very curious phenomenon has been observed on certain flowers, by M. Haggern, lecturer in natural history. One evening he perceived a faint flash of light repeatedly dart from a marigold. Surprised at such an uncommon appearance, he resolved to examine it with attention; and, to be assured it was no deception of the eye, he placed a man near him, with orders to make a signal at the moment when he observed the light. They both saw it constantly at the same moment.

The light was most brilliant on marigolds of an orange or flame colour; but scarcely visible on pale ones. The flash was frequently seen on the same flower two or three times in quick succession; but more commonly at intervals of several minutes; and when several flowers in the same place emitted their light together, it could be observed at a considerable distance.

This phenomenon was remarked in the months of July and August at sun-set, and for half an hour when the atmosphere was clear; but after a rainy day, or when the air was loaded with vapours nothing of it was seen.

The following flowers emitted flashes, more or less vivid, in this order:--

1. The marigold, _galendula [sic] officinalis_.
2. Monk's-hood, _tropaelum [sic] majus_.
3. The orange-lily, _lilium bulbiferum_.
4. The Indian pink, _tagetes patula et erecta_.

From the rapidity of the flash, and other circumstances, it may be conjectured that there is something of electricity in this phenomenon. Notes to _Poems_, 1796. Note 13, pp. 186, 188.

In 1797 the above was printed as a footnote on pp. 93, 94. In 1803 the last stanza, lines 91-96, was omitted, and, of course, the note disappeared. In 1828, 1829, and 1834 the last stanza was replaced but the note was not reprinted.

LINENOTES:

Title] Epistle I. Lines written, &c. The motto is printed on the reverse of the half-title 'Poetical Epistles' [pp. 109, 110]. 1796: Ode to Sara, written at Shurton Bars, &c. 1797, 1803. The motto is omitted in 1797, 1803: The motto is prefixed to the poem in 1828, 1829, and 1834. In 1797 and 1803 a note is appended to the title:--Note. _The first stanza alludes to a Passage in the Letter._ [The allusions to a 'Passage in the Letter' must surely be contained not in the first but in the second and third stanzas. The reference is, no doubt, to the alienation from Southey, which must have led to a difference of feeling between the two sisters Sarah and Edith Fricker.]

[26] sank] sunk 1796-1829.

[33] With broad impetuous 1797, 1803.

[34] fast-encroaching 1797, 1803.

[48] storm-vex'd] troubled 1797, 1803.

[49] black and jaundic'd fit 1797.

THE EOLIAN HARP[100:1]

COMPOSED AT CLEVEDON, SOMERSETSHIRE

My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclined
Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is
To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o'ergrown
With white-flower'd Jasmin, and the broad-leav'd Myrtle,
(Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love!) 5
And watch the clouds, that late were rich with light,
Slow saddening round, and mark the star of eve
Serenely brilliant (such should Wisdom be)
Shine opposite! How exquisite the scents
Snatch'd from yon bean-field! and the world _so_ hush'd! 10
The stilly murmur of the distant Sea
Tells us of silence.

And that simplest Lute,
Placed length-ways in the clasping casement, hark!
How by the desultory breeze caress'd,
Like some coy maid half yielding to her lover, 15
It pours such sweet upbraiding, as must needs
Tempt to repeat the wrong! And now, its strings
Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes
Over delicious surges sink and rise,
Such a soft floating witchery of sound 20
As twilight Elfins make, when they at eve
Voyage on gentle gales from Fairy-Land,
Where Melodies round honey-dropping flowers,
Footless and wild, like birds of Paradise,
Nor pause, nor perch, hovering on untam'd wing! 25
O! the one Life within us and abroad,
Which meets all motion and becomes its soul,
A light in sound, a sound-like power in light,
Rhythm in all thought, and joyance every where--
Methinks, it should have been impossible 30
Not to love all things in a world so fill'd;
Where the breeze warbles, and the mute still air
Is Music slumbering on her instrument.

And thus, my Love! as on the midway slope
Of yonder hill I stretch my limbs at noon, 35
Whilst through my half-closed eye-lids I behold
The sunbeams dance, like diamonds, on the main,
And tranquil muse upon tranquillity;
Full many a thought uncall'd and undetain'd,
And many idle flitting phantasies, 40
Traverse my indolent and passive brain,
As wild and various as the random gales
That swell and flutter on this subject Lute!

And what if all of animated nature
Be but organic Harps diversely fram'd, 45
That tremble into thought, as o'er them sweeps
Plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze,
At once the Soul of each, and God of all?

But thy more serious eye a mild reproof
Darts, O belovéd Woman! nor such thoughts 50
Dim and unhallow'd dost thou not reject,
And biddest me walk humbly with my God.
Meek Daughter in the family of Christ!
Well hast thou said and holily disprais'd
These shapings of the unregenerate mind; 55
Bubbles that glitter as they rise and break
On vain Philosophy's aye-babbling spring.
For never guiltless may I speak of him,
The Incomprehensible! save when with awe
I praise him, and with Faith that inly _feels_;[102:1] 60
Who with his saving mercies healéd me,
A sinful and most miserable man,
Wilder'd and dark, and gave me to possess
Peace, and this Cot, and thee, heart-honour'd Maid!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[100:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[102:1] L'athée n'est point à mes yeux un faux esprit; je puis vivre avec lui aussi bien et mieux qu'avec le dévot, car il raisonne davantage, mais il lui manque un sens, et mon ame ne se fond point entièrement avec la sienne: il est froid au spectacle le plus ravissant, et il cherche un syllogisme lorsque je rends une [un _1797_, _1803_] action de grace. 'Appel a l'impartiale postérité', par la Citoyenne Roland, troisième partie, p. 67. Notes to _Poems_. Note 10, 1796, p. 183. The above was printed as a footnote to p. 99, 1797, and to p. 132, 1803.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxxv. Composed August 20th, 1795, At Clevedon, Somersetshire 1796. Composed at Clevedon Somersetshire 1797, 1803: The Eolian Harp. Composed, &c. S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[5] om. 1803.

[8] om. 1803.

[11] Hark! the still murmur 1803.

[12] And th' Eolian Lute, 1803.

[13] om. 1803.

[16] upbraiding] upbraidings 1796, 1797, 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1817.

Lines 21-33 are om. in 1803, and the text reads:

_Such a soft floating witchery of sound_--
Methinks, it should have been impossible
Not to love all things in a World like this,
Where e'en the Breezes of the simple Air
Possess the power and Spirit of Melody!
_And thus, my Love_, &c.

26-33 are not in 1796, 1797. In Sibylline Leaves, for lines 26-33 of the text, four lines are inserted:

Methinks it should have been impossible
Not to love all things in a world like this,
Where even the breezes, and the common air,
Contain the power and spirit of Harmony.

Lines 26-33 were first included in the text in 1828, and reappeared in 1829 and 1834. They are supplied in the _Errata_, pp. [xi, xii], of Sibylline Leaves, with a single variant (l. 33): Is Music slumbering on _its_ instrument.

[44] And] Or 1796, 1797, 1803.

[64] dear honoured Maid 1893.

TO THE AUTHOR OF POEMS[102:2]

[JOSEPH COTTLE]

PUBLISHED ANONYMOUSLY AT BRISTOL IN SEPTEMBER 1795

Unboastful Bard! whose verse concise yet clear
Tunes to smooth melody unconquer'd sense,
May your fame fadeless live, as 'never-sere'
The Ivy wreathes yon Oak, whose broad defence
Embowers me from Noon's sultry influence! 5
For, like that nameless Rivulet stealing by,
Your modest verse to musing Quiet dear
Is rich with tints heaven-borrow'd: the charm'd eye
Shall gaze undazzled there, and love the soften'd sky.

Circling the base of the Poetic mount 10
A stream there is, which rolls in lazy flow
Its coal-black waters from Oblivion's fount:
The vapour-poison'd Birds, that fly too low,
Fall with dead swoop, and to the bottom go.
Escaped that heavy stream on pinion fleet 15
Beneath the Mountain's lofty-frowning brow,
Ere aught of perilous ascent you meet,
A mead of mildest charm delays th' unlabouring feet.

Not there the cloud-climb'd rock, sublime and vast,
That like some giant king, o'er-glooms the hill; 20
Nor there the Pine-grove to the midnight blast
Makes solemn music! But th' unceasing rill
To the soft Wren or Lark's descending trill
Murmurs sweet undersong 'mid jasmin bowers.
In this same pleasant meadow, at your will 25
I ween, you wander'd--there collecting flowers
Of sober tint, and herbs of med'cinable powers!

There for the monarch-murder'd Soldier's tomb
You wove th' unfinish'd[103:1] wreath of saddest hues;
And to that holier[103:2] chaplet added bloom 30
Besprinkling it with Jordan's cleansing dews.
But lo your Henderson[103:3] awakes the Muse----
His Spirit beckon'd from the mountain's height!
You left the plain and soar'd mid richer views!
So Nature mourn'd when sunk the First Day's light, 35
With stars, unseen before, spangling her robe of night!

Still soar, my Friend, those richer views among,
Strong, rapid, fervent, flashing Fancy's beam!
Virtue and Truth shall love your gentler song;
But Poesy demands th' impassion'd theme: 40
Waked by Heaven's silent dews at Eve's mild gleam
What balmy sweets Pomona breathes around!
But if the vext air rush a stormy stream
Or Autumn's shrill gust moan in plaintive sound,
With fruits and flowers she loads the tempest-honor'd ground.

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[102:2] First published in 1796: included in 1797 (_Supplement_), 1803, and 1852.

'The first in order of the verses which I have thus endeavoured to reprieve from immediate oblivion was originally addressed "To the Author of Poems published anonymously at Bristol". A second edition of these poems has lately appeared with the Author's name prefixed: and I could not refuse myself the gratification of seeing the name of that man among my poems without whose kindness they would probably have remained unpublished; and to whom I know myself greatly and variously obliged, as a Poet, a man, and a Christian.' 'Advertisement' to _Supplement_, 1797, pp. 243, 244.

[103:1] 'War,' a Fragment.

[103:2] 'John Baptist,' a poem.

[103:3] 'Monody on John Henderson.'

LINENOTES:

Title] Epistle iv. To the Author, &c. 1796: Lines to Joseph Cottle 1797: To the Author, &c., _with footnote_, 'Mr. Joseph Cottle' 1803.

[1] Unboastful Bard] My honor'd friend 1797.

[35] sunk] sank 1797.

THE SILVER THIMBLE[104:1]

THE PRODUCTION OF A YOUNG LADY, ADDRESSED TO THE AUTHOR OF THE POEMS ALLUDED TO IN THE PRECEDING EPISTLE

_She had lost her Silver Thimble, and her complaint being
accidentally overheard by him, her Friend, he immediately sent
her four others to take her choice of._

As oft mine eye with careless glance
Has gallop'd thro' some old romance,
Of speaking Birds and Steeds with wings,
Giants and Dwarfs, and Fiends and Kings;
Beyond the rest with more attentive care 5
I've lov'd to read of elfin-favour'd Fair----
How if she long'd for aught beneath the sky
And suffer'd to escape one votive sigh,
Wafted along on viewless pinions aery
It laid itself obsequious at her feet: 10
Such things, I thought, one might not hope to meet
Save in the dear delicious land of Faery!
But now (by proof I know it well)
There's still some peril in free wishing----
_Politeness_ is a licensed _spell_, 15
And _you_, dear Sir! the Arch-magician.
You much perplex'd me by the various set:
They were indeed an elegant quartette!
My mind went to and fro, and waver'd long;
At length I've chosen (Samuel thinks me wrong) 20
_That_, around whose azure rim
Silver figures seem to swim,
Like fleece-white clouds, that on the skiey Blue,
Waked by no breeze, the self-same shapes retain;
Or ocean-Nymphs with limbs of snowy hue 25
Slow-floating o'er the calm cerulean plain.

Just such a one, _mon cher ami_,
(The finger shield of industry)
Th' inventive Gods, I deem, to Pallas gave
What time the vain Arachne, madly brave, 30
Challeng'd the blue-eyed Virgin of the sky
A duel in embroider'd work to try.
And hence the thimbled Finger of grave Pallas
To th' erring Needle's point was more than callous.
But ah the poor Arachne! She unarm'd 35
Blundering thro' hasty eagerness, alarm'd
With all a _Rival's_ hopes, a _Mortal's_ fears,
Still miss'd the stitch, and stain'd the web with tears.
Unnumber'd punctures small yet sore
Full fretfully the maiden bore, 40
Till she her lily finger found
Crimson'd with many a tiny wound;
And to her eyes, suffus'd with watery woe,
Her flower-embroider'd web danc'd dim, I wist,
Like blossom'd shrubs in a quick-moving mist: 45
Till vanquish'd the despairing Maid sunk low.

O Bard! whom sure no common Muse inspires,
I heard your Verse that glows with vestal fires!
And I from unwatch'd needle's erring point
Had surely suffer'd on each finger-joint 50
Those wounds, which erst did poor Arachne meet;
While he, the much-lov'd Object of my choice
(My bosom thrilling with enthusiast heat),
Pour'd on mine ear with deep impressive voice,
How the great Prophet of the Desart stood 55
And preach'd of Penitence by Jordan's Flood;
On War; or else the legendary lays
In simplest measures hymn'd to Alla's praise;
Or what the Bard from his heart's inmost stores
O'er his _Friend's_ grave in loftier numbers pours: 60
Yes, Bard polite! you but obey'd the laws
Of Justice, when the thimble you had sent;
What wounds your thought-bewildering Muse might cause
'Tis well your finger-shielding gifts prevent.
SARA.

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[104:1] First published in 1796: included for the first time in Appendix to 1863. Mrs. Coleridge told her daughter (_Biog. Lit._, 1847, ii. 411) that she wrote but little of these verses.

LINENOTES:

Title] Epistle v. The Production of a Young Lady, &c. 1796: From a Young Lady Appendix, 1863.

REFLECTIONS ON HAVING LEFT A PLACE OF RETIREMENT[106:1]

Sermoni propriora.--HOR.

Low was our pretty Cot: our tallest Rose
Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could hear
At silent noon, and eve, and early morn,
The Sea's faint murmur. In the open air
Our Myrtles blossom'd; and across the porch 5
Thick Jasmins twined: the little landscape round
Was green and woody, and refresh'd the eye.
It was a spot which you might aptly call
The Valley of Seclusion! Once I saw
(Hallowing his Sabbath-day by quietness) 10
A wealthy son of Commerce saunter by,
Bristowa's citizen: methought, it calm'd
His thirst of idle gold, and made him muse
With wiser feelings: for he paus'd, and look'd
With a pleas'd sadness, and gaz'd all around, 15
Then eyed our Cottage, and gaz'd round again,
And sigh'd, and said, it was a Blesséd Place.
And we _were_ bless'd. Oft with patient ear
Long-listening to the viewless sky-lark's note
(Viewless, or haply for a moment seen 20
Gleaming on sunny wings) in whisper'd tones
I've said to my Belovéd, 'Such, sweet Girl!
The inobtrusive song of Happiness,
Unearthly minstrelsy! then only heard
When the Soul seeks to hear; when all is hush'd, 25
And the Heart listens!'

But the time, when first
From that low Dell, steep up the stony Mount
I climb'd with perilous toil and reach'd the top,
Oh! what a goodly scene! _Here_ the bleak mount,
The bare bleak mountain speckled thin with sheep; 30
Grey clouds, that shadowing spot the sunny fields;
And river, now with bushy rocks o'er-brow'd,
Now winding bright and full, with naked banks;
And seats, and lawns, the Abbey and the wood,
And cots, and hamlets, and faint city-spire; 35
The Channel _there_, the Islands and white sails,
Dim coasts, and cloud-like hills, and shoreless Ocean--
It seem'd like Omnipresence! God, methought,
Had built him there a Temple: the whole World
Seem'd _imag'd_ in its vast circumference: 40
No _wish_ profan'd my overwhelméd heart.
Blest hour! It was a luxury,--to be!