Tremble along my frame, and harmonize
The attempered organ, that even saddest thoughts Mix with some sweet sensations, like harsh tunes Played deftly on a soft-toned instrument.
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-flowered jasmin, and the broad-leaved myrtle, (Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love!)
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
Snatched from yon bean-field! and the world so hushed! The stilly murmur of the distant sea
Placed length-ways in the clasping casement, hark!
How by the desultory breeze caressed,
Like some coy maid half yielding to her lover, It pours such sweet upbraiding, as must needs Tempt to repeat the wrong! And now, its strings Boldlier swept, the long equacious notes Over delicious surges sink and rise, Such a soft floating witchery of sound 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 untamed wing! 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 everywhere-
Methinks, it should have been impossible Not to love all things in a world so filled; 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, Whilst through my half-closed eyelids I behold The sunbeams dance, like diamonds, on the main, And tranquil muse upon tranquillity;
Full many a thought uncalled and undetained, And many idle flitting phantasies,
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 framed, 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 beloved woman! nor such thoughts Dim and unhallowed 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 dispraised These shapings of the unregenerate mind; 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; Who with his saving mercies healed me, A sinful and most miserable man,
Wildered and dark, and gave me to possess
Peace, and this cot, and thee, heart-honored Maid!
ON HAVING LEFT A PLACE OF RETIREMENT.
Low was our pretty Cot: our tallest rose Peeped at the chamber-window. At silent noon, and eve, and early morn, The sea's faint murmur. In the open air Our myrtles blossomed; and across the porch Thick jasmins twined: the little landscape round Was green and woody, and refreshed the eye. It was a spot which you might aptly call The Valley of Seclusion! Once I saw (Hallowing his Sabbath-day by quietness) A wealthy son of commerce saunter by, Bristowa's citizen: methought, it calmed His thirst of idle gold, and made him muse With wiser feelings; for he paused, and looked With a pleased sadness, and gazed all around, Then eyed our Cottage, and gazed round again, And sighed, and said, it was a Blessed Place. And we were blessed. Oft with patient ear Long listening to the viewless sky-lark's note (Viewless, or haply for a moment seen Gleaming on sunny wings) in whispered tones I've said to my beloved, "Such, sweet girl! The inobtrusive song of happiness,
Unearthly minstrelsy! then only heard
When the soul seeks to hear; when all is hushed, And the heart listens !"
From that low dell, steep up the stony mount I climbed with perilous toil, and reached the top, Oh! what a goodly scene! Here the bleak mount, The bare bleak mountain speckled thin with sheep; Gray clouds, that shadowing spot the sunny fields; And river, now with bushy rocks o'erbrowed, 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; The Channel there, the Islands and white sails, Dim coasts, and cloud-like hills, and shoreless Ocean- It seemed like Omnipresence! God, methought, Had built him there a temple: the whole World Seemed imaged in its vast circumference, No wish profaned my overwhelmed heart. Blest hour! It was a luxury,-to be!
Ah! quiet dell! dear cot, and mount sublime! I was constrained to quit you. Was it right, While my unnumbered brethren toiled and bled, That I should dream away the intrusted hours On rose-leaf beds, pampering the coward heart With feelings all too delicate for use? Sweet is the tear that from some Howard's eye Drops on the cheek of one he lifts from earth : And he that works me good with unmoved face, Does it but half he chills me while he aids, My benefactor, not my brother man !
Yet even this, this cold beneficence
Praise, praise it, O my Soul! oft as thou scann'st The sluggard Pity's vision-weaving tribe! Who sigh for wretchedness, yet shun the wretched, Nursing in some delicious solitude
Their slothful loves and dainty sympathies! I therefore go, and join head, heart, and hand, Active and firm, to fight the bloodless fight Of science, freedom, and the truth in Christ.
Yet oft when after honorable toil
Rests the tired mind, and waking loves to dream, My spirit shall revisit thee, dear Cot!
Thy jasmin and thy window-peeping rose,
And myrtles fearless of the mild sea-air. And I shall sigh fond wishes-sweet abode ! Ah!-had none greater! And that all had such ! It might be so-but the time is not yet. Speed it, O Father! Let thy kingdom come!
TO THE REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE
OF OTTERY ST. MARY, DEVON. WITH SOME POEMS.
Notus in fratres animi paterni.
HOR. Carm. lib. 1. 2.
A BLESSED lot hath he, who having passed His youth and early manhood in the stir And turmoil of the world, retreats at length, With cares that move, not agitate the heart, To the same dwelling where his father dwelt ; And haply views his tottering little ones Embrace those aged knees and climb that lap, On which first kneeling his own infancy
Lisped its brief prayer. Such, O my earliest Friend! Thy lot, and such thy brothers too enjoy. At distance did ye climb life's upland road, Yet cheered and cheering: now fraternal love Hath drawn you to one centre. Be your days Holy, and blest and blessing may ye live!
To me the Eternal Wisdom hath dispensed A different fortune and more different mind- Me from the spot where first I sprang to light Too soon transplanted, ere my soul had fixed Its first domestic loves; and hence through life Chasing chance-started friendships. A brief while Some have preserved me from life's pelting ills; But, like a tree with leaves of feeble stem, If the clouds lasted, and a sudden breeze Ruffled the boughs, they on my head at once Dropped the collected shower; and some most false, False and fair foliaged as the Manchineel, Have tempted me to slumber in their shade E'en mid the storm; then breathing subtlest damps, Mixed their own venom with the rain from Heaven, That I woke poisoned! But, all praise to Him Who gives us all things, more have yielded me Permanent shelter; and beside one friend, Beneath the impervious covert of one oak,
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