For in this land of heaven's peculiar grace,
The heritage of nature's noblest race,
There is a spot of earth supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest,
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside
His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride,
While in his softened looks benignly blend
The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend;
Here woman reigns; the mother, daughter, wife,
Strew with fresh flowers the narrow way of life!
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye,
An angel-guard of loves and graces lie;
Around her knees domestic duties meet,
And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet.
Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found?
Art thou a man ?—a patriot ?-look around;
O, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land thy country, and that spot thy home!

TWILIGHT.

I LOVE thee, Twilight! as thy shadows roll,
The calm of evening steals upon my soul,
Sublimely tender, solemnly serene,

Still as the hour, enchanting as the scene.
I love thee, twilight! for thy gleams impart
Their dear, their dying influence to my heart,
When o'er the harp of thought thy passing wind
Awakens all the music of the mind,

And joy and sorrow, as the spirit burns,
And hope and memory sweep the chords by turns,
While contemplation on seraphic wings,
Mounts with the flame of sacrifice, and sings,--
Twilight! I love thee; let thy glooms increase,
Till every feeling, every pulse, is peace.
Slow from the sky the light of day declines,
Clearer within, the dawn of glory shines,
Revealing, in the hour of nature's rest,
A world of wonders in the poet's breast;
Deeper, O twilight! then thy shadows roll,
An awful vision opens on my soul.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

{

Born 1772.
Died 1834.

THIS gifted thinker and poet was the son of the Rev. John Coleridge, Vicar of St Mary's Ottery, Devonshire, and was born on 20th October 1772. He received his education at Christ's Hospital, where, without desire or ambition, his talents and superiority placed him ever at the head of his class. In 1791 Coleridge entered Jesus College, Cambridge, where he remained till 1793. But having contracted some debts, in a fit of despondency he enlisted as a soldier in the 15th Light Dragoons. Here his education soon made his position in society known, and his friends, to his great satisfaction, as he made but a sorry dragoon, bought him off. In 1794 Coleridge became acquainted with Southey, and formed a friendship which affected his future history. In conjunction with him he wrote and published "The Fall of Robespierre," a poem, and spent the remainder of the year in lecturing on revealed religion, he having become a Unitarian. Southey and he afterwards married two sisters of the name of Fricker. Coleridge also established a periodical called "The Watchman," which however soon became defunct, from his incurable unpunctuality. He was at this time put to many shifts to obtain a living, though his family and friends were most anxious to help him.

In 1798 appeared his fascinating tale of "The Ancient Mariner," "The Foster-Mother's Tale," &c.; and about the same time he was by the liberality of the Messrs Wedgewood, who settled £150 a-year on him, enabled to proceed to Germany to complete his education. On his return in 1800 he went to reside with Southey at Keswick; at this time his Unitarian views underwent a change, and he became a firm believer in the doctrine of the Trinity. The same year Coleridge issued his translation, or rather transfusion, of Schiller's "Wallenstein," in which he has thrown some of the choicest graces of his own fancy. He obtained also employment as an occasional contributor to the "Morning Post," his unbusinesslike habits making regular contributions impossible. In 1804 he went to Malta to recruit his health, which was suffering greatly from his addiction to opium; he obtained there the post of secretary to the Governor, but he only held the situation nine months. On his return he took up his abode at Grasmere; and in 1816, at the recommendation of Byron, he published Christabel, "a wild and wondrous tale." This was written many years before, but it appears to have been Coleridge's custom to retain his poems for years before publishing them. Coleridge now began to reap the fruits of his genius; he obtained considerable sums from his poetical and prose works, which had a very wide circulation. Fortunately for his after life he was able to give up the use of opium, which was proving so pernicious to his health. In 1816 he took up his residence with Mr Gilman, a surgeon, of Highgate Grove, to whose care and skill Coleridge was indebted for the comparative ease and comfort of his later days. He died at Highgate, 25th July 1834.

FROM "THE ANCIENT MARINER.”

"O WEDDING-GUEST! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide, wide sea;

So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

"O sweeter than the marriage-feast,

'Tis sweeter far to me,

To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company!

"To walk together to the kirk,

And all together pray,

While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!

66 Farewell, farewell; but this I tell
To thee, thou wedding-guest:
He prayeth well who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

“He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."

FROM "ODE TO THE DEPARTING YEAR [1795]."

SPIRIT who sweepest the wild harp of time!
It is most hard, with an untroubled ear,
Thy dark inwoven harmonies to hear!

Yet, mine eye fixed on heaven's unchanging clime,
Long when I listened, free from mortal fear,
With inward stillness, and submitted mind;
When lo! its folds far waving on the wind,
I saw the train of the departing year!
Starting from my silent sadness,
Then with no unholy madness,

Ere yet the entered cloud foreclosed my sight,
I raised the impetuous song, and solemnised his flight.

Hither, from the recent tomb,
From the prison's direr gloom,

From Distemper's midnight anguish ;
And thence, where Poverty doth waste and languish;
Or where, his two bright torches blending,

Love illumines manhood's maze;

Or where, o'er cradled infants bending,
Hope has fixed her wistful gaze,