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MEMOIR OF SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE

Religious Musings; a Desultory Poem

The Destiny of Nations; a Vision

17

JUVENILE POEMS

1

Genevieve

2 SIBYLLINE LEAVES -

Sonnet, to the Autumnal Moon .

ib.

I. POEMS OCCASIONED BY POLITICAL EVENTS, OR

Time, Real and Imaginary, an Allegory ib.

FEELINGS CONNECTED WITH THEM

Monody on the death of Chatterton ib.

Ode to the Departing Year

21

Songs of the Pixies

The Raven, a Christmas Tale, told by a

France; an Ode

23

Fears in Solitude ; written in April, 1798

School-boy to his little Brothers and Sisters

during the alarm of an Invasion. 24

Absence: a Farewell Ode on quitting School

for Jesus College, Cambridge.

ib.

Fire, Famine, and Slaughter; a War Eclogue 26

Lines on an Autumnal Evening.

Recantation-illustrated in the Story of the

ib.

The Rose

Mad Ox

6

27

The Kiss

ib.

II. LOVE POEMS.

To a Young Ass—its Mother being tethered

Introduction to the tale of the Dark Ladie 28

near it

Lewti, or the Circassian Love Chaunt... 29

Domestic Peace.

20.

The Picture, or the Lover's Resolution 30

ib.

The Night Scene; a Dramatic Fragment . 31

Epitaph on an Infant..

ib.

To an Unfortunate Woman, whom the Au
Lines written at the King's Arms, Ross ib.

thor had known in the days of her inno

Lines to a beautiful Spring in a Village

cence.

32

Lines on a Friend, who died of a frenzy fe-

To an Unfortunate Woman at the Theatre 33

ver induced by calumnious reports ib.

To a Young Lady, with a Poem on the French

Lines, composed in a Concert-room. ib

The Keepsake

ib

Revolution ..

ib.

To a Lady, with Falconer's “ Shipwreck”. 34

Sonnet." My heart has thanked thee, Bowles!

for those soft strains"

To a Young Lady, on her Recovery from a

9

Fever...

10

" As late I lay in slumber's shadowy

Something childish, but very natural—writ

vale"

ib.

len in Germany

ib.

-“Though roused by that dark vizir,

Home-sick-written in Germany

ih

Riot rude"

ib.

Answer to a Child's Question . .

ib.

* When British Freedom for a hap-

The Visionary Hope .

35

pier land"

ib.

The Happy Husband; a Fragment . ib

" It was some spirit, Sheridan! that

Recollections of love ...

ib

breathed”...

ib.

On Revisiting the Sea-shore after long ab-

“O what a loud and fearful shriek

sence ...

ik

was there".

ib.

The Composition of a Kiss

36

“As when far off the warbled strains

are heard"

10

III. MEDITATIVE POEMS.

Thou gentle look, that didst my Hymn before Sun-rise, in the Vale of Char
soul beguile"

ib.
mouny

il

" Pale roarner through the night!

Lines written in the Album at Elbingerode,

thou poor forlorn!"

ib.

in the Hartz Forest

37

-“ Sweet Mercy! how my very heart On observing a Blossom on the 1st of Feb

has bled"

ib.

ruary, 1796

ib.

-- Thou bleeaest, my poor heart! and The Eolian Harp—composed at Clevedon,

thy distress”

ib.

Somersetshire

ib.

To the Author of the “ Robbers" ib. Reflections on having left a Place of Retiro-

Lines composed while climbing the left as-

ment

38

cent of Brockley Coomb, Somersetshire,

To the Rev. Geo. Coleridge of Ottery St.

May, 1795 ..

ib. Mary, Devon—with some Poems 39

Lines, in the manner of Spenser

11

Inscription for a Fountain on a Heath ib.

imitated from Ossian

ib. A Tombless Epitaph ...

39

The Complaint of Ninathoma

ib This Lime-tree Bower my Prison

40

Lines, imitated from the Welsh .

ib To a Friend, who had declared his intention
to an infant
ib. of writing no more Poetry ...

ib.
in answer to a Letter from Bristol . 12 To a Gentleman-composed on the night
to a Friend, in answer to a melancholy

after his Recitation of a Poem on the

Letter

13 Growth of an Individual Mind ....

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The Nightingale; a Conversation Poem. 42 Part II. THE SEQUEL, ENTITLED THE

Frost at Midnight

43

USURPER'S FATE"

103

To a Friend, together with an unfinished

Poem ..

ib. THE PICCOLOMINI, OR THE FIRST PART

The Hour when we shall meet again 44

OF WALLENSTEIN; a Drama, trans-

Lines to Joseph Cottle...

ib.

lated from the German of Schiller. 121

IY. ODES AND MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

THE DEATH OF WALLENSTEIN; a Tra-

The Three Graves; a Fragment of a Sex-

gedy, in Five Acts

168

ton's Tale

ib.

Dejection; an Ode..

48 THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE; an Historic

Ode to Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire 49

Drama

. 203

Ode to Tranquillity

50

To a Young Friend, on his proposing to do- MISCELLANEOUS POEMS :-
meeticate with the Author

ib.
Lines to W. L. Esq., while he sang to Pur-

PROSE IN RHYME ; OR EPIGRAMS, MORALITIES,

cell's Music

51

* AND THINGS WITHOUT A NAME.

Addressed to a Young Man of Fortune,

Love...

212

who abandoned himself to an indolent

and causeless Melancholy

ib.

Duty surviving Self-love, the only Sure

Friend of Declining Life; a Soliloquy . 213

Sonnet to the River Otter.

ib.

Phantom or Fact? a Dialogue in Verse il

- composed on a Journey homeward;

Work without Hope.

ih

the Author having received intelligence

Youth and Age

ib.

of the Birth of a Son, Sept. 20, 1796.. ib.

A Daydream..

214

Sonnet-To a Friend, who asked how I felt

when the Nurse first presented my In-

To a Lady, offended by a sportive observa-

tion that women have no souls

iz

fant to me

52

“ I have heard of reasons manifold". ab.

The Virgin's Cradle Hymn

ib.

On the Christening of a Friend's Child ib.

Lines suggested by the Last Words of Bee

ib.

rengarius.

Epitaph on an Infant

il

ib.

The Devil's Thoughts .

Melancholy; a Fragment.

ib.

215

Tell's Birth-place-imitated from Stolberg 53

Constancy to an Ideal Object .

The Suicide's Argument, and Nature's An-

A Christmas Carol ..

ib.

Human Lise, on the Denial of Immortality ib.

The Visit of the Gods-imitated from

The Blossoming of the Solitary Date-tree;

a Lament

216

Schiller

54

Elegy-imitated from Akenside's blank

Fancy in Nubibus, or the Poet in the

Clouds ..

ib.
verse Inscriptions .

iB

The Two Founts; Stanzas addressed to a

Kubla Khan; or a Vision in a Dream . ib.

The Pains of Sleep .

55

Lady on her recovery, with unblemished

looks, from a severe attack of pain ih

APPENDIX.

What is Life?

217

Apologetic Preface to “ Fire, Famine, and

The Exchange .

ib.

Slaughter ..

ib. Sonnet, composed by the Sea-side, October,

THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER 60

1817.

26.

CHRISTABEL

Epigrams.

66

ib.

The Wanderings of Cain.

218

REMORSE; a Tragedy, in Five Acts

73

Allegoric Vision

220

ZAPOLYA; a Christmas Tale.

The Improvisatore, or “ John Anderson, my

Part I. THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED THE

jo, John".

22

USCRPER'S FORTUNE" . ...

96

The Garden of Boccaccio..

...224

16

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TIE

POETICAL WORKS

OF

SAMUEL T. COLERIDGE.

Juvenile Poems.

PREFACE.

| impelled to seck for sympathy ; but a Poet's feelings

are all strong. Quicquid amet valde amal. Akenside COMPOSITIONS resembling those here collected are

therefore speaks with philosophical accuracy when Dot unfrequently condemned for their querulous

he classes Love and Poetry, as producing the same Egolian. Bat Egotism is to be condemned then only

effects : sten it offends against time and place, as in a llis

Love and the wish of Poets when their tongue lor; or an Epic Poem. To censure it in a Monody

Would teach to others' bosoms, what so charms

Their own. or Sonnet is almost as absurd as to dislike a circle

Pleasures of Imagination. for being round. Why then write Sonnets or Mono- There is one species of Egotism which is truly cie? Because they give me pleasure when perhaps disgusting; not that which leads us to communicate pothing else could. After the more violent emotions our feelings to others but that which would reduce of Sorrow, the inind demands amusement, and can the feelings of others 10 an identity with our own Ead it in employment alone: but, full of its late suf- The Aiheist, who exclaims“ pshaw!" when he krings, it can endure no employment not in some glances his eye on the praises of Deity, is an Egotist : to-a-lire connected with them. Forcibly to turn an old man, when he speaks contemptuously of Love assay our attention to general subjects is a painful verses, is an Egotist: and the sleek Favorites of sed most often an unavailing effort.

Fortune are Egotists, when they condemn all “melE:: O! how grateful to a wounded heart

ancholy, discontented” verses. Surely, it would be The tale of Misery to impart

candid not merely to ask whether the poem pleases From others' eyes bid ariless sorrows flow,

ourselves, but to consider whether or no there may And raise esteem upon the base of Woe!

Shar. not be others, to whom it is well calculated to give The communicativeness of our Nature leads us to an innocent pleasure. describe our own sorrows; in the endeavor to de. I shall only add, that each of my readers will, 1 ter:be them, intellectual activity is exerted ; and hope, remember, that these Poems on various subtuta intellectual activity there results a pleasure, jects, which he reads at one time and under the inbich is gradually associated, and mingles as a cor- fluence of one set of feelings, were written at differhave, with the painful subject of the description. ent times and prompted by very different feelings ; " True!" (it may be answered)" but how are the and therefore that the supposed inferiority of one Palic interested in your sorrows or your Descrip- Poem to another may sometimes be owing to the tum!" We are for ever attributing personal Unities temper of mind in which he happens to peruse it. to imaginary Aggregates. What is the Public, but a en for a number of scattered individuals ? of whom My poems have been rightly charged with a pru as many will be interested in these sorrows, as have fusion of double-epithets, and a general turgidness experienced the same or similar.

I have pruned the double-epithets with no sparing Holy be the lay

hand ; and used my best eflorts to tame the swell Wheh mourning soothes the mourner on bis way. and glitter both of thought and diction.* This latter !! I could judge of others by myself, I should not bra.lae to affirm, that the most interesting passages * Without any feeling of anger, I may yet be allowed to at those in which the Author develops his own express some degree of surprise, that after having run the het.inigs? The sweet voice of Cona* never sounds

critical gauntlet for a certain class of faults, which I had, viz.

a too ornate and elaborately poetic diction, and nothing havsweetly, as when it speaks of itself; and I should ing come before the judgment-seat of the Reviewers during altre suspect that man of an unkindly heart, who the long interval

, I should for at least seventeen years, quarter amild read the opening of the third book of the Para- after quarter, have been placed by them in the foremost rank dse last without peculiar emotion. By a Law of our ridicule for faulis directly opposite, viz. bald and prosaic lan

of the proscribed, and made to abide the brunt of abuse and Nature, he, who labors under a strong feeling, is guage, and an affected simplicity both of matter and manner

-faults which assuredly did not enter into the character of • Ossian.

my compositions.-Literary Life, i 51. Published 1817

AN ALLEGORY.

fault however had insinuated itself into my Religious And when thou lovest thy pale orb to shroud Musings with such intricacy of union, that some- Behind the gather'd blackness lost on high; times I have omitted to disentangle the weed from And when thou dartest from the wind-rent cloud the fear of snapping the fower. A third and heavier Thy placid lightning o'er the awaken'd sky accusation has been brought against me, that of ob- Ah such is Hope' as changeful and as fair! scurity ; but not, I think, with equal justice. An Now dimly peering on the wistful sight; Author is obscure, when his conceptions are dim Now hid behind the dragon-wing'd Despair and imperfect, and his language incorrect, or unap- But soon emerging in her radiant might, propriate, or involved. A poem that abounds in She o'er the sorrow-clouded breast of Care allusions, like the Bard of Gray, or one that imper- Sails, like a meteor kindling in its flight sonates high and abstract truths, like Collins's Ode on the poetical character, claims not to be popularbut should be acquitted of obscurity. The deficiency is in the Reader. But this is a charge which every poel, whose imagination is warm and rapid, must

TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY. expect from his contemporaries. Milton did not escape it; and it was adduced with virulence against Gray and Collins. We now hear no more of it: On the wide level of a mountain's head not that their poems are better understood at present, (I knew not where, but 'I was some faery place than they were at their first publication ; but their

Their pinions, ostrich-like, for sails outspread, fame is established; and a critic would accuse him- Two ely children run an endless race, self of frigidity or inattention, who should profess A sister and a brother! not to understand them. But a living writer is yet This far outstript the other; sub judice; and if we cannot follow his conceptions Yet ever runs she with reverted face, or enter into his feelings, it is more consoling to our

And looks and listens for the boy behind : pride to consider him as lost beneath, than as soaring For he, alas! is blind ! above us. If any man expect from my poems the O'er rough and smooth with even step he passide same easiness of style which he admires in a drink. And knows not whether he be first or last. ing-song, for him I have not written. Intelligibilia, non intellectum alfero.

I expect neither profit nor general fame by my writings ; and I consider myself as having been

MONODY ON THE DEATH OF amply repaid without either. Poetry has been to me its Wn “ exceeding great reward :" it has soothed

CHATTERTON. my afflictions; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments; it has endeared solitude: and it has given O what a wonder seems the fear of death, me the habit of wishing to discover the Good and Seeing how gladly we all sink to sleep, the Beautiful in all that meels and surrounds me. Babes, Children, Youths and Men,

S. T. C. Night following night for threescore years and ter

But doubly strange, where life is but a breath

To sigh and pant with, up Want's rugged steep
JUVENILE POEMS.

Away, Grim Phantom! Scorpion King, away
Reserve thy terrors and thy stings display

For coward Wealth and Guilt in robes of state
GENEVIEVE.

Lo! by the grave I stand of one, for whom Maid of my Love, sweet Genevieve !

A prodigal Nature and a niggard Doom In beauty's light you glide along:

(Thal all bestowing, this withholding all) Your eye is like the star of eve,

Made each chance knell from distant spire or donie And sweet your voice, as seraph's song. Sound like a seeking Mother's anxious call, Yet not your heavenly beauty gives

Return, poor Child! Home, weary Truant, home! This heart with passion soft to glow : Within your soul a voice there lives!

Thee, Chatterton! these unblest stones protect It bids you hear the tale of woe.

From want, and the bleak freezings of neglect. When sinking low the sufferer wan

Too long before the vexing Storm-blast driven, Beholds no hand outstretch'd to save,

Here hast thou found repose! beneath this sod! Fair, as "he bosom of the swan

Thou! O vain word! thou dwell'st not with the clod That rises graceful o'er the wave,

Amid the shining Host of the Forgiven
I've seen your breast with pity heave, Thou at the throne of Mercy and thy God
And therefore love I you, sweet Genevieve !

The triumph of redeeming Love dost hymn
(Believe it, O my soul!) to harps of Seraphim.

SONNET.

TO THE AUTUMNAL MOON.

Mild Splendor of the various-vested Night!
Mother of wildly-working visions! hail !
I watch thy gliding, while with watery light
Thy wenk eye glimmers through a fleecy veil ;

Yet oft, perforce ('t is suffering Nature's call,)
I weep, that heaven-born Genius c shall fall;
And ofi, in Fancy's saddest huur, my soul
Averied shudders at the poisond bowl.
Now groans my sickening heart, as still I view

Thy corse of livid hue ;
Now indignation checks the feeble sigh,
Or flashes through the tear that glistens in mine eye

Is this the land of song-ennobled line ?

But that Despair and Indignation rose,
Is this the land, where Genius ne'er in vain

And told again the story of thy woes ;
Pour'd forth his lofty strain ?

Told the keen insult of the unfeeling heart;
Ah me! yet Spenser, gentlest bard divine, The dread dependence on the low-born mind;
Beneath chill Disappointment's shade

Told every pang, with which thy soul must smarh, His weary limbs in lonely anguish laid.

Neglect, and grinning Scorn, and Want combined ! And o'er her darling dead

Recoiling quick, thou bad'st the friend of pain Pity hopeless hurg her head,

Roll the black tide of Death through every freezing While “ 'mid the pelting of that merciless storm,"

vein! unk to the cold earth Otway's famish'd form!

Ye woods! that wave o'er Avon's rocky steep, Sublime of thought, and confident of fame, To Fancy's ear sweet is your murmuring deep! From vales where Avon winds, the Minstrel* came. For here she loves the cypress wreath to weave,

Light-hearted youth! aye, as he hastes along, Watching, with wistful eye, the saddening tints of eve
He meditates the future song,

Here, far from men, amid this pathless grove, How dauntless Ælla fray'd the Dacian foe;

In solemn thought the Minstrel wont to rove,
And while thë numbers flowing strong

Like star-beam on the slow sequester'd tide
In eddies whirl, in surges throng,

Lone-glittering, through the high tree branching wide Erulting in the spirits' genial throe,

And here, in Inspiration's eager hour, In tides of power his life-blood seems to flow.

When most the big soul feels the mastering power,

These wilds, these caverns roaming o'er,

Round which the screaming sea-gul's soar, And now his cheeks with deeper ardors flame,

With wild unequal steps he pass'd along, His eyes have glorious meanings, that declare

Oft pouring on the winds a broken song : More than the light of outward day shines there,

Anon, upon some rough rock's fearful brow A bolier triumph and a sterner aim!

Would pause abrupt—and gaze upon the waves Wings grow within him; and he soars above

below.
Or Bard's, or Minstrel's lay of war or love.
Friend to the friendless, to the Sufferer health,
He t.ars the widow's prayer, the good man's praise; Poor Chatterton! he sorrows for thy fate

Who would have praised and loved thee, ere to To scenes of bliss transmutes his fancied wealth,

late. And young and old shall now see happy days.

Poor Chatterton! farewell! of darkest hues
On many a waste he bids trim gardens rise,
Gives the blue sky to many a prisoner's eyes;

This chaplet cast I on thy unshaped tomb;
And now in wrath he grasps the patriot steel,

But dare no longer on the sad theme muse,
And her own iron rod he makes Oppression feel.

Lest kindred woes persuade a kindred doom:
For oh! big gall-crops, shook from Folly's wing,

Have blacken'd the fur promise of my spring; Sweet Flower of Hope! free Nature's genial child! And the stern Fate transpierced with viewless dari That didst so fair disclose thy early bloom,

The last pale Hope that shiver'd at ray heart!
Filling the wide air with a rich perfume !
For thee in vain all heavenly aspects smiled ;

Hence, gloomy thoughts! no more my soul shai From the hard world brief respite could they win

dwell The frost nipp'd sharp without, the canker prey'd On joys that were ! No more endure to weigh within!

The shame and anguish of the evil day,
Ah! where are fled the charms of vernal Grace,
And Joy's wild gleams that lighten'd o'er thy face? Sublime of Hope I seek the cottaged dell,

Wisely forgetful! O'er the ocean swell
Youth of tumultuous soul, and haggard eye!

Where Virtue calm with careless step may stray Tay wasted form, thy hurried steps, I view,

And, dancing to the moon-light roundelay, Ou thy wan forehead starts the lethal dew,

The wizard Passions weave a holy spell ! And oh! the anguish of that shuddering sigh!

O Chatterton! that thou wert yet alive! Such were the struggles of the gloomy hour,

Sure thou wouldst spread the canvas to the gale When Care, of wither'd brow,

And love with us the tinkling team to drive Prepar'd the poison's death-cold power.

O'er peaceful Freedom's undivided dale ; Already to thy lips was raised the bowl,

And we, at sober eve, would round thee throng. When near thee stood Affection meek (Her hosom bare, and wildly pale her cheek,) And greet with smiles the young-eyed Poesy

Hanging, enraptured, on thy stately song !
Thy sullen gaze she bade thee roll

All defily mask'd, as hoar Antiquity.
On scenes that well might melt thy soul;
Thy native col she flash d upon thy view,
thy native cot, where still, at close of day,

Alas vain Phantasies' the fleeting brood ce smiling sate, and listen’d to thy lay;

Of Woe self-solaced in her dreamy mood ! Thy Sister's shrieks she bade thee hear,

Yet will I love to follow the sweet dream, And mark thy Mother's thrilling tear;

Where Susquehannah pours his untamed strean
See, see her breast's convulsive throe,

And on some hill, whose forest-frowning side
Her silent agony of woe!

Waves o'er the murmurs of his calmer tido
Ah! dash the voison'd chalice from thy hand !

Will raise a solemn Cenotaph to thee, dod thou hadst dash'd it, at her soft command,

Sweet Harper of time-shrouded Minstrelsy!

And there, soothed sadly by the dirgeful wiin Avan, a river near Bristol; the birth-place of Chatterton. Muse on the sore ills I had left behind.

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