O Years! the blest pre-eminence of Saints! Ye sweep athwart my gaze, so heavenly bright, The wings that veil the adoring Seraphs' eyes, What time they bend before the Jasper Throne[123:2] 380 Reflect no lovelier hues! Yet ye depart, And all beyond is darkness! Heights most strange, Whence Fancy falls, fluttering her idle wing. For who of woman born may paint the hour, When seized in his mid course, the Sun shall wane 385 Making noon ghastly! Who of woman born May image in the workings of his thought, How the black-visaged, red-eyed Fiend outstretched[124:1] Beneath the unsteady feet of Nature groans, In feverous slumbers—destined then to wake, 390 When fiery whirlwinds thunder his dread name And Angels shout, Destruction! How his arm The last great Spirit lifting high in air Shall swear by Him, the ever-living One, Time is no more!

Believe thou, O my soul,[124:2] 395 Life is a vision shadowy of Truth; And vice, and anguish, and the wormy grave, Shapes of a dream! The veiling clouds retire, And lo! the Throne of the redeeming God Forth flashing unimaginable day 400 Wraps in one blaze earth, heaven, and deepest hell.

Contemplant Spirits! ye that hover o'er With untired gaze the immeasurable fount Ebullient with creative Deity! And ye of plastic power, that interfused 405 Roll through the grosser and material mass In organizing surge! Holies of God! (And what if Monads of the infinite mind?) I haply journeying my immortal course Shall sometime join your mystic choir! Till then 410 I discipline my young and novice thought In ministeries of heart-stirring song, And aye on Meditation's heaven-ward wing Soaring aloft I breathe the empyreal air Of Love, omnific, omnipresent Love, 415 Whose day-spring rises glorious in my soul As the great Sun, when he his influence Sheds on the frost-bound waters—The glad stream Flows to the ray and warbles as it flows.

1794-1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[108:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. Lines 260-357 were published in The Watchman, No. II, March 9, 1796, entitled 'The Present State of Society'. In the editions of 1796, 1797, and 1803 the following lines, an adaptation of a passage in the First Book of Akenside's Pleasures of the Imagination, were prefixed as a motto:—

What tho' first, In years unseason'd, I attun'd the lay To idle Passion and unreal Woe? Yet serious Truth her empire o'er my song Hath now asserted; Falsehood's evil brood, Vice and deceitful Pleasure, she at once Excluded, and my Fancy's careless toil Drew to the better cause!

An 'Argument' followed on a separate page:—

Introduction. Person of Christ. His prayer on the Cross. The process of his Doctrines on the mind of the Individual. Character of the Elect. Superstition. Digression to the present War. Origin and Uses of Government and Property. The present State of Society. The French Revolution. Millenium. Universal Redemption. Conclusion.

[110:1] To Noton dirkasin eis polln Then idiottas. DAMAS. DE MYST. AEGYPT. Footnote to line 34, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829. [This note, which should be attached to l. 33, is a comment on the original line 'Split and mishap'd' &c., of 1796. The quotation as translated reads thus:—'Men have split up the Intelligible One into the peculiar attributes of Gods many'.]

[110:2] See this demonstrated by Hartley, vol. 1, p. 114, and vol. 2, p. 329. See it likewise proved, and freed from the charge of Mysticism, by Pistorius in his Notes and Additions to part second of Hartley on Man, Addition the 18th, the 653rd page of the third volume of Hartley, Octavo Edition. Note to line 44, 1797. [David Hartley's Observations on Man were published in 1749. His son republished them in 1791, with Notes, &c., from the German of H. A. Pistorius, Pastor and Provost of the Synod at Poseritz in the Island of Rgen.]

[112:1] And I heard a great voice out of the Temple saying to the seven Angels, pour out the vials of the wrath of God upon the earth. Revelation, xvi. 1. Note to line 91, Notes, 1796, p. 90.

[112:2] Our evil Passions, under the influence of Religion, become innocent, and may be made to animate our virtue—in the same manner as the thick mist melted by the Sun, increases the light which it had before excluded. In the preceding paragraph, agreeably to this truth, we had allegorically narrated the transfiguration of Fear into holy Awe. Footnote to line 91, 1797: to line 101, 1803.

[114:1] If to make aught but the Supreme Reality the object of final pursuit, be Superstition; if the attributing of sublime properties to things or persons, which those things or persons neither do or can possess, be Superstition; then Avarice and Ambition are Superstitions: and he who wishes to estimate the evils of Superstition, should transport himself, not to the temple of the Mexican Deities, but to the plains of Flanders, or the coast of Africa.—Such is the sentiment convey'd in this and the subsequent lines. Footnote to line 135, 1797: to line 143, 1803.

[115:1] January 21st, 1794, in the debate on the Address to his Majesty, on the speech from the Throne, the Earl of Guildford (sic) moved an Amendment to the following effect:—'That the House hoped his Majesty would seize the earliest opportunity to conclude a peace with France,' &c. This motion was opposed by the Duke of Portland, who 'considered the war to be merely grounded on one principle—the preservation of the CHRISTIAN RELIGION'. May 30th, 1794, the Duke of Bedford moved a number of Resolutions, with a view to the Establishment of a Peace with France. He was opposed (among others) by Lord Abingdon in these remarkable words: 'The best road to Peace, my Lords, is WAR! and WAR carried on in the same manner in which we are taught to worship our CREATOR, namely, with all our souls, and with all our minds, and with all our hearts, and with all our strength.' [Footnote to line 159, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.]

[115:2] That Despot who received the wages of an hireling that he might act the part of a swindler, and who skulked from his impotent attacks on the liberties of France to perpetrate more successful iniquity in the plains of Poland. Note to line 193. Notes, 1796, p. 170.

[116:1] The Father of the present Prince of Hesse Cassell supported himself and his strumpets at Paris by the vast sums which he received from the British Government during the American War for the flesh of his subjects. Notes, 1796, p. 176.

[116:2] Art thou not from everlasting, O Lord, mine Holy One? We shall not die. O Lord! thou hast ordained them for judgment, &c. Habakkuk i. 12. Note to line 212. Notes, 1796, p. 171. Footnote, 1828, 1829, 1834.

Art thou not, &c. In this paragraph the Author recalls himself from his indignation against the instruments of Evil, to contemplate the uses of these Evils in the great process of divine Benevolence. In the first age, Men were innocent from ignorance of Vice; they fell, that by the knowledge of consequences they might attain intellectual security, i. e. Virtue, which is a wise and strong-nerv'd Innocence. Footnote to line 196, 1797: to line 204, 1803.

[117:1] I deem that the teaching of the gospel for hire is wrong; because it gives the teacher an improper bias in favour of particular opinions on a subject where it is of the last importance that the mind should be perfectly unbiassed. Such is my private opinion; but I mean not to censure all hired teachers, many among whom I know, and venerate as the best and wisest of men—God forbid that I should think of these, when I use the word PRIEST, a name, after which any other term of abhorrence would appear an anti-climax. By a Priest I mean a man who holding the scourge of power in his right hand and a bible (translated by authority) in his left, doth necessarily cause the bible and the scourge to be associated ideas, and so produces that temper of mind which leads to Infidelity—Infidelity which judging of Revelation by the doctrines and practices of established Churches honors God by rejecting Christ. See 'Address to the People', p. 57, sold by Parsons, Paternoster Row. Note to line 235. Notes, 1796, pp. 171, 172.

[118:1] Dr. Franklin. Note to line 253. Notes, 1796, p. 172.

[119:1] At eleven o'clock, while we contemplated with great pleasure the rugged top of Chiggre, to which we were fast approaching, and where we were to solace ourselves with plenty of good water, IDRIS cried out with a loud voice, 'Fall upon your faces, for here is the Simoom'. I saw from the S.E. an haze come on, in colour like the purple part of the rainbow, but not so compressed or thick. It did not occupy twenty yards in breadth, and was about twelve feet high from the ground.—We all lay flat on the ground, as if dead, till IDRIS told us it was blown over. The meteor, or purple haze, which I saw, was indeed passed; but the light air that still blew was of heat to threaten suffocation. Bruce's Travels, vol. 4, p. 557. Note to line 288. Notes, 1796, pp. 172, 173.

[119:2] Behemoth, in Hebrew, signifies wild beasts in general. Some believe it is the Elephant, some the Hippopotamus; some affirm it is the Wild Bull. Poetically, it designates any large Quadruped. [Footnote to l. 279, 1797: to l. 286, 1803. Reprinted in 1828, 1829, and 1834. The note to l. 294 in 1796, p. 173 ran thus: Used poetically for a very large quadruped, but in general it designates the elephant.]

[120:1] See the sixth chapter of the Revelation of St. John the Divine.—And I looked and beheld a pale horse; and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the FOURTH part of the Earth to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with pestilence, and with the beasts of the Earth.—And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held; and white robes were given unto every one of them; and it was said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little season, until their fellow servants also, and their brethren that should be killed as they were should be fulfilled. And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, the stars of Heaven fell unto the Earth, even as a fig-tree casteth her untimely figs when she is shaken of a mighty wind] And the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, &c. Note to line 324. Notes, 1796, pp. 174, 175.

[121:1] Alluding to the French Revolution 1834: The French Revolution 1796: This passage alludes to the French Revolution: and the subsequent paragraph to the downfall of Religious Establishments. I am convinced that the Babylon of the Apocalypse does not apply to Rome exclusively; but to the union of Religion with Power and Wealth, wherever it is found. Footnote to line 320, 1797, to line 322, 1803.

[121:2] And there came one of the seven Angels which had the seven vials, and talked with me, saying unto me, come hither! I will show unto thee the judgment of the great Whore, that sitteth upon many waters: with whom the kings of the earth have committed fornication, &c. Revelation of St. John the Divine, chapter the seventeenth. Note to l. 343. Notes, 1796, p. 175.

[122:1] The Millenium:—in which I suppose, that Man will continue to enjoy the highest glory, of which his human nature is capable.—That all who in past ages have endeavoured to ameliorate the state of man will rise and enjoy the fruits and flowers, the imperceptible seeds of which they had sown in their former Life: and that the wicked will during the same period, be suffering the remedies adapted to their several bad habits. I suppose that this period will be followed by the passing away of this Earth and by our entering the state of pure intellect; when all Creation shall rest from its labours. Footnote to line 365, 1797, to line 367, 1803.

[123:1] David Hartley. [Footnote to line 392, 1796, to line 375, 1797, to line 380, 1803: reprinted in 1828, 1829, and 1834.]

[123:2] Rev. chap. iv. v. 2 and 3.—And immediately I was in the Spirit: and behold, a Throne was set in Heaven and one sat on the Throne. And he that sat was to look upon like a jasper and a sardine stone, &c. [Footnote to line 386, 1797, to line 389, 1803: reprinted in 1828, 1829, and 1834.]

[124:1] The final Destruction impersonated. [Footnote to line 394, 1797, to line 396, 1803: reprinted in 1828, 1829, and 1834.]

[124:2] This paragraph is intelligible to those, who, like the Author, believe and feel the sublime system of Berkley (sic); and the doctrine of the final Happiness of all men. Footnote to line 402, 1797, to line 405, 1803.

LINENOTES:

Title] —— on Christmas Eve. In the year of Our Lord, 1794.

[1-23]

This is the time, when most divine to hear, As with a Cherub's 'loud uplifted' trump The voice of Adoration my thrill'd heart Rouses! And with the rushing noise of wings Transports my spirit to the favor'd fields 5 Of Bethlehem, there in shepherd's guise to sit Sublime of extacy, and mark entranc'd The glory-streaming VISION throng the night.[109:A] Ah not more radiant, nor loud harmonies Hymning more unimaginably sweet 10 With choral songs around th' ETERNAL MIND, The constellated company of WORLDS Danc'd jubilant: what time the startling East Saw from her dark womb leap her flamy child! Glory to God in the Highest! PEACE on Earth! 15 Yet thou more bright than all that Angel Blaze, Despisd GALILAEAN! Man of Woes! For chiefly in the oppressed Good Man's face The Great Invisible (by symbols seen) Shines with peculiar and concentred light, 20 When all of Self regardless the scourg'd Saint Mourns for th' oppressor. O thou meekest Man! 25 Meek Man and lowliest of the Sons of Men! Who thee beheld thy imag'd Father saw.[109:B] His Power and Wisdom from thy awful eye Blended their beams, and loftier Love sat there Musing on human weal, and that dread hour 30 When thy insulted, &c.

1796.

[109:A] And suddenly there was with the Angel a multitude of the heavenly Host, praising God and saying glory to God in the highest and on earth peace. Luke ii. 13 1796.

[109:B] Philip saith unto him, Lord! shew us the Father and it sufficeth us. Jesus saith unto him, Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me, Philip? He that hath seen me hath seen the Father. John xiv. 9 1796.

[7] Angel-blaze] Angel-Host 1803.

[26] Diviner light flash'd extacy o'er Heaven! 1796.

[32-4]

What mists dim-floating of Idolatry Split and mishap'd the Omnipresent Sire: And first by Terror, Mercy's startling prelude, Uncharm'd the Spirit spell-bound with earthy lusts.

1796.

[39] From Hope and stronger Faith to perfect Love 1796.

[54] embosom] imbosom 1796, 1797, 1803.

[64-71]

They cannot dread created might, who love God the Creator! fair and lofty thought! It lifts and swells my heart! and as I muse, Behold a VISION gathers in my soul, Voices and shadowy shapes! In human guise I seem to see the phantom, FEAR, pass by, Hotly-pursued, and pale! From rock to rock He bounds with bleeding feet, and thro' the swamp, The quicksand and the groaning wilderness, Struggles with feebler and yet feebler flight. But lo! an altar in the wilderness, And eagerly yet feebly lo! he grasps The altar of the living God! and there With wan reverted face the trembling wretch All wildly list'ning to his Hunter-fiends Stands, till the last faint echo of their yell Dies in the distance. Soon refresh'd from Heaven &c.

1803.

[74-7]

Swims in his eyes: his swimming eyes uprais'd: And Faith's whole armour girds his limbs! And thus Transfigur'd, with a meek and dreadless awe, A solemn hush of spirit he beholds

1803.

[78-84]

Yea, and there, Unshudder'd unaghasted, he shall view E'en the SEVEN SPIRITS, who in the latter day Will shower hot pestilence on the sons of men, For he shall know, his heart shall understand, That kindling with intenser Deity They from the MERCY-SEAT like rosy flames, From God's celestial MERCY-SEAT will flash, And at the wells of renovating LOVE Fill their Seven Vials with salutary wrath.

1796.

[81-3]

For even these on wings of healing come, Yea, kindling with intenser Deity From the Celestial MERCY SEAT they speed, And at the renovating &c.

1803.

[86] soft] sweet 1803.

[96-7]

Darkling with earnest eyes he traces out Th' immediate road, all else of fairest kind

1803.

[98] the burning Sun 1803.

[115] The Cherubs and the trembling Seraphim 1803.

[119-21] om. 1803.

[135-41]

O Fiends of SUPERSTITION! not that oft Your pitiless rites have floated with man's blood The skull-pil'd Temple, not for this shall wrath Thunder against you from the Holy One! But (whether ye th' unclimbing Bigot mock With secondary Gods, or if more pleas'd Ye petrify th' imbrothell'd Atheist's heart, The Atheist your worst slave) I o'er some plain Peopled with Death, and to the silent Sun Steaming with tyrant-murder'd multitudes; Or where mid groans and shrieks loud-laughing TRADE More hideous packs his bales of living anguish

1796.

[165] pious] pious 1796-1829.

[176] mazy surge] tortuous-folds 1796.

[177] imbreathe] inbreathe 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[202] An] A 1834.

[222] an] a 1834.

[223] om. 1796, 1803.

[254-5]

The wafted perfumes, gazing on the woods The many tinted streams

1803.

[257] In extacy! 1803.

[266] Blessed] O Blest 1796, Watchman: evil 1803: Blessed 1797, 1828, 1829.

[270] by] at Watchman.

[273] bloody] gore-stained 1803.

[274] plants] rolls 1796.

[277-8]

Ye whom Oppression's ruffian gluttony Drives from the feast of life

1803.

[280-1]

Dost roam for prey—yea thy unnatural hand Liftest to deeds of blood

1796.

[281] Dost] Dar'st Watchman.

[283-4]

Nights of pollution, days of blasphemy, Who in thy orgies with loath'd wassailers

1803.

[290] O loathly-visag'd Suppliants! ye that oft 1796: O loathly-visag'd supplicants! that oft Watchman.

[291-2]

Rack'd with disease, from the unopen'd gate Of the full Lazar-house, heart-broken crawl!

1796, Watchman.

[293-6]

O ye to scepter'd Glory's gore-drench'd field Forc'd or ensnar'd, who swept by Slaughter's scythe Stern nurse of Vultures! steam in putrid heaps

1796.

O ye that steaming to the silent Noon, People with Death red-eyed Ambition's plains! O Wretched Widow

Watchman.

[300] Cow'rest 1796.

[302] stream] steam 1796, Watchman, 1797, 1803.

[305] And upward spring on swiftest plume of fire Watchman.

[337] Hunted by ghastlier terrors 1796, Watchman. Haunted] Hunted 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[345-8]

When on some solemn Jubilee of Saints The sapphire-blazing gates of Paradise Are thrown wide open, and thence voyage forth Detachments wild of seraph-warbled airs

1796, Watchman.

[355] beatitudes] beatitude 1796, Watchman, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[356] Seize on] Have seiz'd Watchman.

[359-61]

The SAVIOUR comes! While as to solemn strains, The THOUSAND YEARS lead up their mystic dance Old OCEAN claps his hands! the DESERT shouts! And soft gales wafted from the haunts of spring Melt the primaeval North!

The Mighty Dead 1796.

[365] The odorous groves of Earth reparadis'd 1796.

[370-2]

Down the fine fibres from the sentient brain Roll subtly-surging. Pressing on his steps Lo! PRIESTLEY there, Patriot, and Saint, and Sage, Whom that my fleshly eye hath never seen A childish pang of impotent regret Hath thrill'd my heart. Him from his native land

1796.

Up the fine fibres thro' the sentient brain Pass in fine surges. Pressing on his steps Lo! Priestley there

1803.

[378-80]

Sweeping before the rapt prophetic Gaze Bright as what glories of the jasper throne Stream from the gorgeous and face-veiling plumes Of Spirits adoring! Ye blest years! must end

1796.

[380] they bend] he bends 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[387] May image in his wildly-working thought 1796: May image, how the red-eyed Fiend outstretcht 1803.

[390] feverous] feverish 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.

[Between 391, 392] DESTRUCTION! when the Sons of Morning shout, The Angels shout, DESTRUCTION 1803.

[393] The Mighty Spirit 1796.

[400] om. 1803.

[401] blaze] Light 1803.

[411] and novice] noviciate 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.



MONODY ON THE DEATH OF CHATTERTON[125:1]

O what a wonder seems the fear of death, Seeing how gladly we all sink to sleep, Babes, Children, Youths, and Men, Night following night for threescore years and ten! But doubly strange, where life is but a breath 5 To sigh and pant with, up Want's rugged steep.

Away, Grim Phantom! Scorpion King, away! Reserve thy terrors and thy stings display For coward Wealth and Guilt in robes of State! Lo! by the grave I stand of one, for whom 10 A prodigal Nature and a niggard Doom (That all bestowing, this withholding all) Made each chance knell from distant spire or dome Sound like a seeking Mother's anxious call, Return, poor Child! Home, weary Truant, home! 15

Thee, Chatterton! these unblest stones protect From want, and the bleak freezings of neglect. Too long before the vexing Storm-blast driven Here hast thou found repose! beneath this sod! Thou! O vain word! thou dwell'st not with the clod! 20 Amid the shining Host of the Forgiven Thou at the throne of mercy and thy God The triumph of redeeming Love dost hymn (Believe it, O my Soul!) to harps of Seraphim.

Yet oft, perforce ('tis suffering Nature's call), 25 I weep that heaven-born Genius so should fall; And oft, in Fancy's saddest hour, my soul Averted shudders at the poison'd bowl. Now groans my sickening heart, as still I view Thy corse of livid hue; 30 Now Indignation checks the feeble sigh, Or flashes through the tear that glistens in mine eye!

Is this the land of song-ennobled line? Is this the land, where Genius ne'er in vain Pour'd forth his lofty strain? 35 Ah me! yet Spenser, gentlest bard divine, Beneath chill Disappointment's shade, His weary limbs in lonely anguish lay'd. And o'er her darling dead Pity hopeless hung her head, 40 While 'mid the pelting of that merciless storm,' Sunk to the cold earth Otway's famish'd form! Sublime of thought, and confident of fame, From vales where Avon[127:1] winds the Minstrel came. Light-hearted youth! aye, as he hastes along, 45 He meditates the future song, How dauntless lla fray'd the Dacyan foe; And while the numbers flowing strong In eddies whirl, in surges throng, Exulting in the spirits' genial throe 50 In tides of power his life-blood seems to flow.

And now his cheeks with deeper ardors flame, His eyes have glorious meanings, that declare More than the light of outward day shines there, A holier triumph and a sterner aim! 55 Wings grow within him; and he soars above Or Bard's or Minstrel's lay of war or love. Friend to the friendless, to the sufferer health, He hears the widow's prayer, the good man's praise; To scenes of bliss transmutes his fancied wealth, 60 And young and old shall now see happy days. On many a waste he bids trim gardens rise, Gives the blue sky to many a prisoner's eyes; And now in wrath he grasps the patriot steel, And her own iron rod he makes Oppression feel. 65 Sweet Flower of Hope! free Nature's genial child! That didst so fair disclose thy early bloom, Filling the wide air with a rich perfume! For thee in vain all heavenly aspects smil'd; From the hard world brief respite could they win— 70 The frost nipp'd sharp without, the canker prey'd within! Ah! where are fled the charms of vernal Grace, And Joy's wild gleams that lighten'd o'er thy face? Youth of tumultuous soul, and haggard eye! Thy wasted form, thy hurried steps I view, 75 On thy wan forehead starts the lethal dew, And oh! the anguish of that shuddering sigh!

Such were the struggles of the gloomy hour, When Care, of wither'd brow, Prepar'd the poison's death-cold power: 80 Already to thy lips was rais'd the bowl, When near thee stood Affection meek (Her bosom bare, and wildly pale her cheek) Thy sullen gaze she bade thee roll On scenes that well might melt thy soul; 85 Thy native cot she flash'd upon thy view, Thy native cot, where still, at close of day, Peace smiling sate, and listen'd to thy lay; Thy Sister's shrieks she bade thee hear, And mark thy Mother's thrilling tear; 90 See, see her breast's convulsive throe, Her silent agony of woe! Ah! dash the poison'd chalice from thy hand!

And thou hadst dashed it, at her soft command, But that Despair and Indignation rose, 95 And told again the story of thy woes; Told the keen insult of the unfeeling heart, The dread dependence on the low-born mind; Told every pang, with which thy soul must smart, Neglect, and grinning Scorn, and Want combined! 100 Recoiling quick, thou badest the friend of pain Roll the black tide of Death through every freezing vein! O spirit blest! Whether the Eternal's throne around, Amidst the blaze of Seraphim, 105 Thou pourest forth the grateful hymn, Or soaring thro' the blest domain Enrapturest Angels with thy strain,— Grant me, like thee, the lyre to sound, Like thee with fire divine to glow;— 110 But ah! when rage the waves of woe, Grant me with firmer breast to meet their hate, And soar beyond the storm with upright eye elate!

Ye woods! that wave o'er Avon's rocky steep, To Fancy's ear sweet is your murmuring deep! 115 For here she loves the cypress wreath to weave; Watching with wistful eye, the saddening tints of eve. Here, far from men, amid this pathless grove, In solemn thought the Minstrel wont to rove, Like star-beam on the slow sequester'd tide 120 Lone-glittering, through the high tree branching wide. And here, in Inspiration's eager hour, When most the big soul feels the mastering power, These wilds, these caverns roaming o'er, Round which the screaming sea-gulls soar, 125 With wild unequal steps he pass'd along, Oft pouring on the winds a broken song: Anon, upon some rough rock's fearful brow Would pause abrupt—and gaze upon the waves below.

Poor Chatterton! he sorrows for thy fate 130 Who would have prais'd and lov'd thee, ere too late. Poor Chatterton! farewell! of darkest hues This chaplet cast I on thy unshaped tomb; But dare no longer on the sad theme muse, Lest kindred woes persuade a kindred doom: 135 For oh! big gall-drops, shook from Folly's wing, Have blacken'd the fair promise of my spring; And the stern Fate transpierc'd with viewless dart The last pale Hope that shiver'd at my heart!

Hence, gloomy thoughts! no more my soul shall dwell 140 On joys that were! no more endure to weigh The shame and anguish of the evil day, Wisely forgetful! O'er the ocean swell Sublime of Hope I seek the cottag'd dell Where Virtue calm with careless step may stray; 145 And, dancing to the moon-light roundelay, The wizard Passions weave an holy spell!

O Chatterton! that thou wert yet alive! Sure thou would'st spread the canvass to the gale, And love with us the tinkling team to drive 150 O'er peaceful Freedom's undivided dale; And we, at sober eve, would round thee throng, Would hang, enraptur'd, on thy stately song, And greet with smiles the young-eyed Poesy All deftly mask'd as hoar Antiquity. 155

Alas, vain Phantasies! the fleeting brood Of Woe self-solac'd in her dreamy mood! Yet will I love to follow the sweet dream, Where Susquehannah pours his untamed stream; And on some hill, whose forest-frowning side 160 Waves o'er the murmurs of his calmer tide, Will raise a solemn Cenotaph to thee, Sweet Harper of time-shrouded Minstrelsy! And there, sooth'd sadly by the dirgeful wind, Muse on the sore ills I had left behind. 165

1790-1834.

FOOTNOTES:

[125:1] The 'Monody', &c., dated in eds. 1796, 1797, 1803, 'October, 1794,' was first published at Cambridge in 1794, in Poems, By Thomas Rowley [i. e. Chatterton] and others edited by Lancelot Sharpe (pp. xxv-xxviii). An Introductory Note was prefixed:—'The Editor thinks himself happy in the permission of an ingenious friend to insert the following Monody.' The variants marked 1794 are derived from that work. The 'Monody' was not included in Sibylline Leaves, 1817. For MS. variants vide ante, 'Monody', &c., Christ's Hospital Version.

Coleridge told Cottle, May 27, 1814 that lines 1-4 were written when he was 'a mere boy' (Reminiscences, 1847, p. 348); and, again, April 22, 1819, he told William Worship that they were written 'in his thirteenth year as a school exercise'. The Monody numbered 107 lines in 1794, 143 in 1796, 135 in 1797, 119 in 1803, 143 in 1828, 154 in 1829, and 165 lines in 1834.

[127:1] Avon, a river near Bristol, the birth-place of Chatterton.

LINENOTES:

[1-15]

When faint and sad o'er Sorrow's desart wild Slow journeys onward, poor Misfortune's child; When fades each lovely form by Fancy drest, And inly pines the self-consuming breast; (No scourge of scorpions in thy right arm dread, No helmd terrors nodding o'er thy head,) Assume, O DEATH! the cherub wings of PEACE, And bid the heartsick Wanderer's Anguish cease.

1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[Lines 1-15 of the text were first printed in 1829.]

[16] these] yon 1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[18-24]

Escap'd the sore wounds of Affliction's rod Meek at the throne of Mercy and of God, Perchance, thou raisest high th' enraptur'd hymn Amid the blaze of Seraphim!

1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[25] Yet oft ('tis Nature's bosom-startling call) 1794, 1796, 1828: Yet oft ('tis Nature's call) 1797, 1803.

[26] should] shall 1829.

[30] Thy] The 1794.

[31-32]

And now a flash of Indignation high Darts through the tear that glistens in mine eye.

1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[35] his] her 1794.

[37] Disappointment's deadly shade 1794.

[41] merciless] pitiless 1794.

[45] aye, as] om. 1797, 1803.

[46] He] And 1797, 1803.

[47-56]

How dauntless lla fray'd the Dacyan foes; And, as floating high in air, Glitter the sunny Visions fair, His eyes dance rapture, and his bosom glows!

1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[1794 reads 'Danish foes'; 1797, 1803 read 'See, as floating', &c. Lines 48-56 were added in 1829.]

[58-71]

Friend to the friendless, to the sick man Health, With generous Joy he views th' ideal wealth; He hears the Widow's heaven-breath'd prayer of Praise; He marks the shelter'd Orphan's tearful gaze; Or where the sorrow-shrivell'd Captive lay, 5 Pours the bright Blaze of Freedom's noon-tide Ray: And now, indignant 'grasps the patriot steel' And her own iron rod he makes Oppression feel. Clad in Nature's rich array, And bright in all her tender hues, 10 Sweet Tree of Hope! thou loveliest child of Spring! How fair didst thou disclose thine early bloom, Loading the west winds with its soft perfume! And Fancy, elfin form of gorgeous wing, [And Fancy hovering round on shadowy wing, 1794.] On every blossom hung her fostering dews, 15 That, changeful, wanton'd to the orient Day! But soon upon thy poor unshelter'd Head [Ah! soon, &c. 1794.] Did Penury her sickly mildew shed: And soon the scathing Lightning bade thee stand In frowning horror o'er the blighted Land

1794, 1796, 1828.

[Lines 1-8 of the preceding variant were omitted in 1797. Line 9 reads 'Yes! Clad,' &c., and line 12 reads 'Most fair,' &c. The entire variant, 'Friend . . . Land,' was omitted in 1803, but reappears in 1828. The quotation marks 'grasps the patriot steel' which appear in 1796, but not in 1794, were inserted in 1828, but omitted in 1829, 1834. Lines 1-6 were included in 'Lines written at the King's Arms, Ross', as first published in the Cambridge Intelligencer, Sept. 27, 1794, and in the editions of 1797, 1828, 1829, and 1834.]

[72] Ah! where] Whither 1794, 1797.

[73] that lighten'd] light-flashing 1797, 1803.

[76] wan] cold 1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828. lethal] anguish'd 1794, 1796, 1797, 1828.

[77] And dreadful was that bosom-rending sigh 1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[78] the gloomy] that gloomy 1803.

[80] Prepar'd the poison's power 1797, 1803.

[90] And mark thy mother's tear 1797, 1803.

[98] low-born] low-bred 1794.

[99] with] at 1794. must] might 1794.

[102] black] dark 1794.

[103-13] These lines, which form the conclusion (ll. 80-90) of the Christ's Hospital Version, were printed for the first time in 1834, with the following variants: l. 104 the Eternal's] th' Eternal; l. 105 Seraphim] Cherubim; l. 112 to meet] t'oppose; l. 113 storm] storms.

[120] slow] rude 1794.

[121] Lone glittering thro' the Forest's murksome pride 1794.

[123] mastering] mad'ning 1794, 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828.

[129] Here the Monody ends 1794.

[130-65] First printed in 1796.

[133] unshaped] shapeless 1803.

[136-39] om. 1803.

[147] an] a 1834.

[153] Would hang] Hanging 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.



THE DESTINY OF NATIONS[131:1]

A VISION

Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song, Ere we the deep preluding strain have poured To the Great Father, only Rightful King, Eternal Father! King Omnipotent! To the Will Absolute, the One, the Good! 5 The I AM, the Word, the Life, the Living God!

Such symphony requires best instrument. Seize, then, my soul! from Freedom's trophied dome The Harp which hangeth high between the Shields Of Brutus and Leonidas! With that 10 Strong music, that soliciting spell, force back Man's free and stirring spirit that lies entranced. For what is Freedom, but the unfettered use Of all the powers which God for use had given? But chiefly this, him First, him Last to view 15 Through meaner powers and secondary things Effulgent, as through clouds that veil his blaze. For all that meets the bodily sense I deem Symbolical, one mighty alphabet For infant minds; and we in this low world 20 Placed with our backs to bright Reality, That we may learn with young unwounded ken The substance from its shadow. Infinite Love, Whose latence is the plenitude of All, Thou with retracted beams, and self-eclipse 25 Veiling, revealest thine eternal Sun.

But some there are who deem themselves most free When they within this gross and visible sphere Chain down the wingd thought, scoffing ascent, Proud in their meanness: and themselves they cheat 30 With noisy emptiness of learned phrase, Their subtle fluids, impacts, essences, Self-working tools, uncaused effects, and all Those blind Omniscients, those Almighty Slaves, Untenanting creation of its God. 35

But Properties are God: the naked mass (If mass there be, fantastic guess or ghost) Acts only by its inactivity. Here we pause humbly. Others boldlier think That as one body seems the aggregate 40 Of atoms numberless, each organized; So by a strange and dim similitude Infinite myriads of self-conscious minds Are one all-conscious Spirit, which informs With absolute ubiquity of thought 45 (His one eternal self-affirming act!) All his involvd Monads, that yet seem With various province and apt agency Each to pursue its own self-centering end. Some nurse the infant diamond in the mine; 50 Some roll the genial juices through the oak; Some drive the mutinous clouds to clash in air, And rushing on the storm with whirlwind speed, Yoke the red lightnings to their volleying car. Thus these pursue their never-varying course, 55 No eddy in their stream. Others, more wild, With complex interests weaving human fates, Duteous or proud, alike obedient all, Evolve the process of eternal good.

And what if some rebellious, o'er dark realms 60 Arrogate power? yet these train up to God, And on the rude eye, unconfirmed for day, Flash meteor-lights better than total gloom. As ere from Lieule-Oaive's vapoury head The Laplander beholds the far-off Sun 65 Dart his slant beam on unobeying snows, While yet the stern and solitary Night Brooks no alternate sway, the Boreal Morn With mimic lustre substitutes its gleam. Guiding his course or by Niemi lake 70 Or Balda Zhiok,[133:1] or the mossy stone Of Solfar-kapper,[133:2] while the snowy blast Drifts arrowy by, or eddies round his sledge, Making the poor babe at its mother's back[134:1] Scream in its scanty cradle: he the while 75 Wins gentle solace as with upward eye He marks the streamy banners of the North, Thinking himself those happy spirits shall join Who there in floating robes of rosy light Dance sportively. For Fancy is the power 80 That first unsensualises the dark mind, Giving it new delights; and bids it swell With wild activity; and peopling air, By obscure fears of Beings invisible, Emancipates it from the grosser thrall 85 Of the present impulse, teaching Self-control, Till Superstition with unconscious hand Seat Reason on her throne. Wherefore not vain, Nor yet without permitted power impressed, I deem those legends terrible, with which 90 The polar ancient thrills his uncouth throng: Whether of pitying Spirits that make their moan O'er slaughter'd infants, or that Giant Bird Vuokho, of whose rushing wings the noise Is Tempest, when the unutterable Shape 95 Speeds from the mother of Death, and utters once[134:2] That shriek, which never murderer heard, and lived.

Or if the Greenland Wizard in strange trance Pierces the untravelled realms of Ocean's bed Over the abysm, even to that uttermost cave 100 By mis-shaped prodigies beleaguered, such As Earth ne'er bred, nor Air, nor the upper Sea: Where dwells the Fury Form, whose unheard name With eager eye, pale cheek, suspended breath, And lips half-opening with the dread of sound, 105 Unsleeping Silence guards, worn out with fear Lest haply 'scaping on some treacherous blast The fateful word let slip the Elements And frenzy Nature. Yet the wizard her, Arm'd with Torngarsuck's power, the Spirit of Good,[135:1] 110 Forces to unchain the foodful progeny Of the Ocean stream;—thence thro' the realm of Souls, Where live the Innocent, as far from cares As from the storms and overwhelming waves That tumble on the surface of the Deep, 115 Returns with far-heard pant, hotly pursued By the fierce Warders of the Sea, once more, Ere by the frost foreclosed, to repossess His fleshly mansion, that had staid the while In the dark tent within a cow'ring group 120 Untenanted.—Wild phantasies! yet wise, On the victorious goodness of high God Teaching reliance, and medicinal hope, Till from Bethabra northward, heavenly Truth With gradual steps, winning her difficult way, 125 Transfer their rude Faith perfected and pure.

If there be Beings of higher class than Man, I deem no nobler province they possess, Than by disposal of apt circumstance To rear up kingdoms: and the deeds they prompt, 130 Distinguishing from mortal agency, They choose their human ministers from such states As still the Epic song half fears to name, Repelled from all the minstrelsies that strike The palace-roof and soothe the monarch's pride. 135 And such, perhaps, the Spirit, who (if words Witnessed by answering deeds may claim our faith) Held commune with that warrior-maid of France Who scourged the Invader. From her infant days, With Wisdom, mother of retired thoughts, 140 Her soul had dwelt; and she was quick to mark The good and evil thing, in human lore Undisciplined. For lowly was her birth, And Heaven had doomed her early years to toil That pure from Tyranny's least deed, herself 145 Unfeared by Fellow-natures, she might wait On the poor labouring man with kindly looks, And minister refreshment to the tired Way-wanderer, when along the rough-hewn bench The sweltry man had stretched him, and aloft 150 Vacantly watched the rudely-pictured board Which on the Mulberry-bough with welcome creak Swung to the pleasant breeze. Here, too, the Maid Learnt more than Schools could teach: Man's shifting mind, His vices and his sorrows! And full oft 155 At tales of cruel wrong and strange distress Had wept and shivered. To the tottering Eld Still as a daughter would she run: she placed His cold limbs at the sunny door, and loved To hear him story, in his garrulous sort, 160 Of his eventful years, all come and gone.

So twenty seasons past. The Virgin's form, Active and tall, nor Sloth nor Luxury Had shrunk or paled. Her front sublime and broad, Her flexile eye-brows wildly haired and low, 165 And her full eye, now bright, now unillumed, Spake more than Woman's thought; and all her face Was moulded to such features as declared That Pity there had oft and strongly worked, And sometimes Indignation. Bold her mien, 170 And like an haughty huntress of the woods She moved: yet sure she was a gentle maid! And in each motion her most innocent soul Beamed forth so brightly, that who saw would say Guilt was a thing impossible in her! 175 Nor idly would have said—for she had lived In this bad World, as in a place of Tombs, And touched not the pollutions of the Dead.

'Twas the cold season when the Rustic's eye From the drear desolate whiteness of his fields 180 Rolls for relief to watch the skiey tints And clouds slow-varying their huge imagery; When now, as she was wont, the healthful Maid Had left her pallet ere one beam of day Slanted the fog-smoke. She went forth alone 185 Urged by the indwelling angel-guide, that oft, With dim inexplicable sympathies Disquieting the heart, shapes out Man's course To the predoomed adventure. Now the ascent She climbs of that steep upland, on whose top 190 The Pilgrim-man, who long since eve had watched The alien shine of unconcerning stars, Shouts to himself, there first the Abbey-lights Seen in Neufchtel's vale; now slopes adown The winding sheep-track vale-ward: when, behold 195 In the first entrance of the level road An unattended team! The foremost horse Lay with stretched limbs; the others, yet alive But stiff and cold, stood motionless, their manes Hoar with the frozen night-dews. Dismally 200 The dark-red dawn now glimmered; but its gleams Disclosed no face of man. The maiden paused, Then hailed who might be near. No voice replied. From the thwart wain at length there reached her ear A sound so feeble that it almost seemed 205 Distant: and feebly, with slow effort pushed, A miserable man crept forth: his limbs The silent frost had eat, scathing like fire. Faint on the shafts he rested. She, meantime, Saw crowded close beneath the coverture 210 A mother and her children—lifeless all, Yet lovely! not a lineament was marred— Death had put on so slumber-like a form! It was a piteous sight; and one, a babe. The crisp milk frozen on its innocent lips, 215 Lay on the woman's arm, its little hand Stretched on her bosom.

Mutely questioning, The Maid gazed wildly at the living wretch. He, his head feebly turning, on the group Looked with a vacant stare, and his eye spoke 220 The drowsy calm that steals on worn-out anguish. She shuddered; but, each vainer pang subdued, Quick disentangling from the foremost horse The rustic bands, with difficulty and toil The stiff cramped team forced homeward. There arrived, 225 Anxiously tends him she with healing herbs, And weeps and prays—but the numb power of Death Spreads o'er his limbs; and ere the noon-tide hour, The hovering spirits of his Wife and Babes Hail him immortal! Yet amid his pangs, 230 With interruptions long from ghastly throes, His voice had faltered out this simple tale.

The Village, where he dwelt an husbandman, By sudden inroad had been seized and fired Late on the yester-evening. With his wife 235 And little ones he hurried his escape. They saw the neighbouring hamlets flame, they heard Uproar and shrieks! and terror-struck drove on Through unfrequented roads, a weary way! But saw nor house nor cottage. All had quenched 240 Their evening hearth-fire: for the alarm had spread. The air clipt keen, the night was fanged with frost, And they provisionless! The weeping wife Ill hushed her children's moans; and still they moaned, Till Fright and Cold and Hunger drank their life. 245 They closed their eyes in sleep, nor knew 'twas Death. He only, lashing his o'er-wearied team, Gained a sad respite, till beside the base Of the high hill his foremost horse dropped dead. Then hopeless, strengthless, sick for lack of food, 250 He crept beneath the coverture, entranced, Till wakened by the maiden.—Such his tale.

Ah! suffering to the height of what was suffered, Stung with too keen a sympathy, the Maid Brooded with moving lips, mute, startful, dark! 255 And now her flushed tumultuous features shot Such strange vivacity, as fires the eye Of Misery fancy-crazed! and now once more Naked, and void, and fixed, and all within The unquiet silence of confusd thought 260 And shapeless feelings. For a mighty hand Was strong upon her, till in the heat of soul To the high hill-top tracing back her steps, Aside the beacon, up whose smouldered stones The tender ivy-trails crept thinly, there, 265 Unconscious of the driving element, Yea, swallowed up in the ominous dream, she sate Ghastly as broad-eyed Slumber! a dim anguish Breathed from her look! and still with pant and sob, Inly she toiled to flee, and still subdued, 270 Felt an inevitable Presence near.

Thus as she toiled in troublous ecstasy, A horror of great darkness wrapt her round, And a voice uttered forth unearthly tones, Calming her soul,—'O Thou of the Most High 275 Chosen, whom all the perfected in Heaven Behold expectant—'

[The following fragments were intended to form part of the poem when finished.]

[140:1]'Maid beloved of Heaven! (To her the tutelary Power exclaimed) Of Chaos the adventurous progeny 280 Thou seest; foul missionaries of foul sire. Fierce to regain the losses of that hour When Love rose glittering, and his gorgeous wings Over the abyss fluttered with such glad noise, As what time after long and pestful calms, 285 With slimy shapes and miscreated life Poisoning the vast Pacific, the fresh breeze Wakens the merchant-sail uprising. Night An heavy unimaginable moan Sent forth, when she the Protoplast beheld 290 Stand beauteous on Confusion's charmd wave. Moaning she fled, and entered the Profound That leads with downward windings to the Cave Of Darkness palpable, Desert of Death Sunk deep beneath Gehenna's massy roots. 295 There many a dateless age the Beldame lurked And trembled; till engendered by fierce Hate, Fierce Hate and gloomy Hope, a Dream arose, Shaped like a black cloud marked with streaks of fire. It roused the Hell-Hag: she the dew-damp wiped 300 From off her brow, and through the uncouth maze Retraced her steps; but ere she reached the mouth Of that drear labyrinth, shuddering she paused, Nor dared re-enter the diminished Gulph. As through the dark vaults of some mouldered Tower 305 (Which, fearful to approach, the evening hind Circles at distance in his homeward way) The winds breathe hollow, deemed the plaining groan Of prisoned spirits; with such fearful voice Night murmured, and the sound through Chaos went. 310 Leaped at her call her hideous-fronted brood! A dark behest they heard, and rushed on earth; Since that sad hour, in Camps and Courts adored, Rebels from God, and Tyrants o'er Mankind!'

* * * * *

From his obscure haunt 315 Shrieked Fear, of Cruelty the ghastly Dam, Feverous yet freezing, eager-paced yet slow, As she that creeps from forth her swampy reeds. Ague, the biform Hag! when early Spring Beams on the marsh-bred vapours. 320

'Even so (the exulting Maiden said) The sainted Heralds of Good Tidings fell, And thus they witnessed God! But now the clouds Treading, and storms beneath their feet, they soar Higher, and higher soar, and soaring sing 325 Loud songs of triumph! O ye Spirits of God, Hover around my mortal agonies!' She spake, and instantly faint melody Melts on her ear, soothing and sad, and slow, Such measures, as at calmest midnight heard 330 By agd Hermit in his holy dream, Foretell and solace death; and now they rise Louder, as when with harp and mingled voice The white-robed multitude of slaughtered saints At Heaven's wide-open'd portals gratulant 335 Receive some martyred patriot. The harmony[142:1] Entranced the Maid, till each suspended sense Brief slumber seized, and confused ecstasy.

At length awakening slow, she gazed around: And through a mist, the relict of that trance 340 Still thinning as she gazed, an Isle appeared, Its high, o'er-hanging, white, broad-breasted cliffs, Glassed on the subject ocean. A vast plain Stretched opposite, where ever and anon The plough-man following sad his meagre team 345 Turned up fresh sculls unstartled, and the bones Of fierce hate-breathing combatants, who there All mingled lay beneath the common earth, Death's gloomy reconcilement! O'er the fields Stept a fair Form, repairing all she might, 350 Her temples olive-wreathed; and where she trod, Fresh flowerets rose, and many a foodful herb. But wan her cheek, her footsteps insecure, And anxious pleasure beamed in her faint eye, As she had newly left a couch of pain, 355 Pale Convalescent! (Yet some time to rule With power exclusive o'er the willing world, That blessed prophetic mandate then fulfilled— Peace be on Earth!) An happy while, but brief, She seemed to wander with assiduous feet, 360 And healed the recent harm of chill and blight, And nursed each plant that fair and virtuous grew.

But soon a deep precursive sound moaned hollow: Black rose the clouds, and now, (as in a dream) Their reddening shapes, transformed to Warrior-hosts, 365 Coursed o'er the sky, and battled in mid-air. Nor did not the large blood-drops fall from Heaven Portentous! while aloft were seen to float, Like hideous features looming on the mist, Wan stains of ominous light! Resigned, yet sad, 370 The fair Form bowed her olive-crownd brow, Then o'er the plain with oft-reverted eye Fled till a place of Tombs she reached, and there Within a ruined Sepulchre obscure Found hiding-place.

The delegated Maid 375 Gazed through her tears, then in sad tones exclaimed;— Thou mild-eyed Form! wherefore, ah! wherefore fled? The Power of Justice like a name all light, Shone from thy brow; but all they, who unblamed Dwelt in thy dwellings, call thee Happiness. 380 Ah! why, uninjured and unprofited, Should multitudes against their brethren rush? Why sow they guilt, still reaping misery? Lenient of care, thy songs, O Peace! are sweet,[144:1] As after showers the perfumed gale of eve, 385 That flings the cool drops on a feverous cheek; And gay thy grassy altar piled with fruits. But boasts the shrine of Dmon War one charm,[144:2] Save that with many an orgie strange and foul,[144:3] Dancing around with interwoven arms, 390 The Maniac Suicide and Giant Murder Exult in their fierce union! I am sad, And know not why the simple peasants crowd Beneath the Chieftains' standard!' Thus the Maid.

To her the tutelary Spirit said: 395 'When Luxury and Lust's exhausted stores No more can rouse the appetites of kings; When the low flattery of their reptile lords Falls flat and heavy on the accustomed ear; When eunuchs sing, and fools buffoonery make, 400 And dancers writhe their harlot-limbs in vain; Then War and all its dread vicissitudes Pleasingly agitate their stagnant hearts; Its hopes, its fears, its victories, its defeats, Insipid Royalty's keen condiment! 405 Therefore, uninjured and unprofited (Victims at once and executioners), The congregated Husbandmen lay waste The vineyard and the harvest. As along The Bothnic coast, or southward of the Line, 410 Though hushed the winds and cloudless the high noon, Yet if Leviathan, weary of ease, In sports unwieldy toss his island-bulk, Ocean behind him billows, and before A storm of waves breaks foamy on the strand. 415 And hence, for times and seasons bloody and dark, Short Peace shall skin the wounds of causeless War, And War, his straind sinews knit anew, Still violate the unfinished works of Peace. But yonder look! for more demands thy view!' 420 He said: and straightway from the opposite Isle A vapour sailed, as when a cloud, exhaled From Egypt's fields that steam hot pestilence, Travels the sky for many a trackless league, Till o'er some death-doomed land, distant in vain, 425 It broods incumbent. Forthwith from the plain, Facing the Isle, a brighter cloud arose, And steered its course which way the vapour went.

The Maiden paused, musing what this might mean. But long time passed not, ere that brighter cloud 430 Returned more bright; along the plain it swept; And soon from forth its bursting sides emerged A dazzling form, broad-bosomed, bold of eye, And wild her hair, save where with laurels bound. Not more majestic stood the healing God,[146:1] 435 When from his bow the arrow sped that slew Huge Python. Shriek'd Ambition's giant throng, And with them hissed the locust-fiends that crawled And glittered in Corruption's slimy track. Great was their wrath, for short they knew their reign; 440 And such commotion made they, and uproar, As when the mad Tornado bellows through The guilty islands of the western main, What time departing from their native shores,[146:2] Eboe, or Koromantyn's plain of palms, 445 The infuriate spirits of the murdered make Fierce merriment, and vengeance ask of Heaven. Warmed with new influence, the unwholesome plain Sent up its foulest fogs to meet the morn: The Sun that rose on Freedom, rose in Blood! 450

'Maiden beloved, and Delegate of Heaven! (To her the tutelary Spirit said) Soon shall the Morning struggle into Day, The stormy Morning into cloudless Noon. Much hast thou seen, nor all canst understand— 455 But this be thy best omen—Save thy Country!' Thus saying, from the answering Maid he passed, And with him disappeared the heavenly Vision.

'Glory to Thee, Father of Earth and Heaven! All-conscious Presence of the Universe! 460 Nature's vast ever-acting Energy![147:1] In will, in deed, Impulse of All to All! Whether thy Love with unrefracted ray Beam on the Prophet's purgd eye, or if Diseasing realms the Enthusiast, wild of thought, 465 Scatter new frenzies on the infected throng, Thou both inspiring and predooming both, Fit instruments and best, of perfect end: Glory to Thee, Father of Earth and Heaven!'

* * * * *

And first a landscape rose 470 More wild and waste and desolate than where The white bear, drifting on a field of ice, Howls to her sundered cubs with piteous rage And savage agony.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[131:1] First published, in its entirety, in Sibylline Leaves, 1817: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834. Two hundred and fifty-five lines were included in Book II of Joan of Arc, An Epic Poem, by Robert Southey, Bristol and London, 1796, 4{o}. The greater part of the remaining 212 lines were written in 1796, and formed part of an unpublished poem entitled The Progress of Liberty or The Vision of the Maid of Orleans, or Visions of the Maid of Orleans, or Visions of the Maid of Arc, or The Vision of the Patriot Maiden. (See letter to Poole, Dec. 13, and letter to J. Thelwall, Dec. 17, 1796, Letters of S. T. C., 1895, i. 192, 206. See, too, Cottle's Early Recollections, 1837, i. 230; and, for Lamb's criticism of a first draft of the poem, his letters to Coleridge, dated Jan. 5 and Feb. 12, 1797.) For a reprint of Joan of Arc, Book the Second (Preternatural Agency), see Cottle's Early Recollections, 1837, ii. 241-62.

The texts of 1828, 1829 (almost but not quite identical) vary slightly from that of the Sibylline Leaves, 1817, and, again, the text of 1834 varies from that of 1828 and 1829. These variants (on a proof-sheet of the edition of 1828) are in Coleridge's own handwriting, and afford convincing evidence that he did take some part in the preparation of the text of his poems for the last edition issued in his own lifetime.

[133:1] Balda-Zhiok, i. e. mons altitudinis, the highest mountain in Lapland.

[133:2] Solfar-kapper: capitium Solfar, hic locus omnium, quotquot veterum Lapponum superstitio sacrificiisque religiosoque cultui dedicavit, celebratissimus erat, in parte sinus australis situs, semimilliaris spatio a mari distans. Ipse locus, quem curiositatis gratia aliquando me invisisse memini, duabus praealtis lapidibus, sibi invicem oppositis, quorum alter musco circumdatus erat, constabat.

[134:1] The Lapland women carry their infants at their backs in a piece of excavated wood which serves them for a cradle: opposite to the infant's mouth there is a hole for it to breathe through.

Mirandum prorsus est et vix credibile nisi cui vidisse contigit. Lappones hyeme iter facientes per vastos montes, perque horrida et invia tesqua, eo praesertim tempore quo omnia perpetuis nivibus obtecta sunt et nives ventis agitantur et in gyros aguntur, viam ad destinata loca absque errore invenire posse, lactantem autem infantem, si quem habeat, ipsa mater in dorso baiulat, in excavato ligno (Gieed'k ipsi vocant) quod pro cunis utuntur, in hoc infans pannis et pellibus convolutus colligatus iacet.—LEEMIUS DE LAPPONIBUS.

[134:2] Jaibme Aibmo.

[135:1] They call the Good Spirit, Torngarsuck. The other great but malignant spirit a nameless female; she dwells under the sea in a great house where she can detain in captivity all the animals of the ocean by her magic power. When a dearth befalls the Greenlanders, an Angekok or magician must undertake a journey thither: he passes through the kingdom of souls, over an horrible abyss into the palace of this phantom, and by his enchantments causes the captive creatures to ascend directly to the surface of the ocean. See Crantz, History of Greenland, vol. i. 206.

[140:1] These are very fine Lines, tho' I say it, that should not: but, hang me, if I know or ever did know the meaning of them, tho' my own composition. MS. Note by S. T. C.

[142:1] Rev. vi. 9, 11: And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God and for the Testimony which they held. And white robes were given unto every one of them; and it was said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little Season, until their fellow-servants also, and their brethren that should be killed, as they were, should be fulfilled.

[144:1] A grievous defect here in the rhyme recalling assonance of P[=ea]ce, sw[=ee]t ēve, ch[=ee]k. Better thus:—

Sweet are thy Songs, O Peace! lenient of care. S. T. C., 1828.

[144:2] 388-93 Southeyan. To be omitted. S. T. C., 1828.

[144:3] A vile line [foul is underlined]. S. T. C., 1828.

[146:1] The Apollo Belvedere.

[146:2] The Slaves in the West-India Islands consider Death as a passport to their native country. The Sentiment is thus expressed in the Introduction to a Greek Prize Ode on the Slave-Trade, of which the Ideas are better than the Language or Metre, in which they are conveyed:—

+ skotou pylas, Thanate, proleipn Es genos speudois hypozeuchthen Ata[146:A]; Ou xenisths genyn sparagmois Oud' ololygm,

Alla kai kyklois choroitypoisi Kasmatn chara; phoberos men essi, All' homs Eleutheria synoikeis, Stygne Tyranne!

Daskiois epi pterygessi ssi A! thalassion kathorntes oidma Aitheroplanktois hypo poss' aneisi Patrid' ep' aian,

Entha man Erastai Ermensin Amphi pgsin kitrinn hyp' alsn, Hoss' hypo brotois epathon brotoi, ta Deina legonti.+

LITERAL TRANSLATION.

Leaving the gates of Darkness, O Death! hasten thou to a Race yoked to Misery! Thou wilt not be received with lacerations of Cheeks, nor with funereal ululation, but with circling Dances and the joy of Songs. Thou art terrible indeed, yet thou dwellest with LIBERTY, stern GENIUS! Borne on thy dark pinions over the swelling of Ocean they return to their native country. There by the side of fountains beneath Citron groves, the Lovers tell to their Beloved, what horrors, being Men, they had endured from Men.

[146:A] o before z ought to have been made long; doīs upōz is an Amphimacer not (as the metre here requires) a Dactyl. S. T. C.

[147:1] Tho' these Lines may bear a sane sense, yet they are easily, and more naturally interpreted with a very false and dangerous one. But I was at that time one of the Mongrels, the Josephidites [Josephides = the Son of Joseph], a proper name of distinction from those who believe in, as well as believe Christ the only begotten Son of the Living God before all Time. MS. Note by S. T. C.

LINENOTES:

[1] No more of Usurpation's doom'd defeat 4{o}.

[5-6]

Beneath whose shadowy banners wide unfurl'd Justice leads forth her tyrant-quelling hosts.

4{o}, Sibylline Leaves.

[5] THE WILL, THE WORD, THE BREATH, THE LIVING GOD 1828, 1829.

[6] Added in 1834.

[9-12]

The Harp which hanging high between the shields Of Brutus and Leonidas oft gives A fitful music to the breezy touch Of patriot spirits that demand their fame.

4{o}.

[12] Man's] Earth's Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829.

[15]

But chiefly this with holiest habitude Of constant Faith, him First, him Last to view

4{o}.

[23-6]

Things from their shadows. Know thyself my Soul! Confirm'd thy strength, thy pinions fledged for flight Bursting this shell and leaving next thy nest Soon upward soaring shalt thou fix intense Thine eaglet eye on Heaven's Eternal Sun!

4{o}.

The substance from its shadow—Earth's broad shade Revealing by Eclipse, the Eternal Sun.

Sibylline Leaves.

[The text of lines 23-6 is given in the Errata p. [lxii].]

[37] om. 4{o}.

[40] seems] is 4{o}.

[44] Form one all-conscious Spirit, who directs 4{o}.

[46] om. 4{o}.

[47] involvd] component 4{o}.

[54] lightnings] lightning 4{o}.

[70] Niemi] Niemi's 4{o}.

[90] deem] deemed 1829.

[96-7]

Speeds from the mother of Death his destin'd way To snatch the murderer from his secret cell.

4{o}.

[Between lines 99-100]

(Where live the innocent as far from cares As from the storms and overwhelming waves Dark tumbling on the surface of the deep).

4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829.

These lines form part of an addition (lines 111-21) which dates from 1834.

[103] Where] There 4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829.

[105] om. 4{o}.

[107] 'scaping] escaping 4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829.

[108] fateful word] fatal sound 4{o}.

[112-21] thence thro' . . . Untenanted are not included in 4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1828, or 1829. For lines 113-15 vide ante, variant of line 99 of the text.

[112] Ocean] Ocean's 1828, 1829.

[130 foll.]

To rear some realm with patient discipline, Aye bidding PAIN, dark ERROR'S uncouth child, Blameless Parenticide! his snakey scourge 125 Lift fierce against his Mother! Thus they make Of transient Evil ever-during Good Themselves probationary, and denied Confess'd to view by preternatural deed To o'erwhelm the will, save on some fated day 130 Headstrong, or with petition'd might from God. And such perhaps the guardian Power whose ken Still dwelt on France. He from the invisible World Burst on the MAIDEN'S eye, impregning Air With Voices and strange Shapes, illusions apt 135 Shadowy of Truth. [And first a landscape rose More wild and waste and desolate, than where The white bear drifting on a field of ice Howls to her sunder'd cubs with piteous rage And savage agony.] Mid the drear scene 140 A craggy mass uprear'd its misty brow, Untouch'd by breath of Spring, unwont to know Red Summer's influence, or the chearful face Of Autumn; yet its fragments many and huge Astounded ocean with the dreadful dance 145 Of whirlpools numberless, absorbing oft The blameless fisher at his perilous toil.

4{o}.

Note—Lines 148-223 of the Second Book of Joan of Arc are by Southey. Coleridge's unpublished poem of 1796 (The Visions of the Maid of Orleans) begins at line 127 of the text, ending at line 277. The remaining portion of the Destiny of Nations is taken from lines contributed to the Second Book. Lines 136-40 of variant 130 foll. form the concluding fragment of the Destiny of Nations. Lines 141-3 of the variant are by Southey. (See his Preface to Joan of Arc, 1796, p. vi.) The remaining lines of the variant were never reprinted.

[132] human] mortal Sibylline Leaves (correction made in Errata, p. [xii]).

[171] an] a 1834.

[201] now] new Sibylline Leaves, 1828.

[289] An] A 1834.

[300] dew-damp] dew-damps 4{o}.

[314] Tyrants] Monarchs 4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829.

Between lines 314 and 315 of the text, the text of the original version (after line 259 of Joan of Arc, Book II) continues:—

'These are the fiends that o'er thy native land 260 Spread Guilt and Horror. Maid belov'd of Heaven! Dar'st thou inspir'd by the holy flame of Love Encounter such fell shapes, nor fear to meet Their wrath, their wiles? O Maiden dar'st thou die?' 'Father of Heaven: I will not fear.' she said, 265 'My arm is weak, but mighty is thy sword.'

She spake and as she spake the trump was heard That echoed ominous o'er the streets of Rome, When the first Caesar totter'd o'er the grave By Freedom delv'd: the Trump, whose chilling blast 270 On Marathon and on Plataea's plain Scatter'd the Persian.—From his obscure haunt, &c.

[Lines 267-72, She spake . . . the Persian, are claimed by Southey.]

[316] Shriek'd Fear the ghastliest of Ambition's throng 4{o}.

[317] Feverous] Fev'rish 4{o}, Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829.

Between lines 320 and 321 of the text, the text of Joan of Arc, Book II, continues:—

'Lo she goes! To Orleans lo! she goes—the mission'd Maid! The Victor Hosts wither beneath her arm! And what are Crecy, Poictiers, Azincour 280 But noisy echoes in the ear of Pride?' Ambition heard and startled on his throne; But strait a smile of savage joy illum'd His grisly features, like the sheety Burst Of Lightning o'er the awaken'd midnight clouds 285 Wide flash'd. [For lo! a flaming pile reflects Its red light fierce and gloomy on the face Of SUPERSTITION and her goblin Son Loud-laughing CRUELTY, who to the stake A female fix'd, of bold and beauteous mien, 290 Her snow-white Limbs by iron fetters bruis'd Her breast expos'd.] JOAN saw, she saw and knew Her perfect image. Nature thro' her frame One pang shot shiv'ring; but, that frail pang soon Dismiss'd, 'Even so, &c.

4{o}.

[The passage included in brackets was claimed by Southey.]

[330] calmest] calmy 4{o}.

[339-40]

But lo! no more was seen the ice-pil'd mount And meteor-lighted dome.—An Isle appear'd

4{o}.

[342] white] rough 4{o}.

[361] and] or 4{o}.

[366-7]

The Sea meantime his Billows darkest roll'd, And each stain'd wave dash'd on the shore a corse.

4{o}.

[369-72]

His hideous features blended with the mist, The long black locks of SLAUGHTER. PEACE beheld And o'er the plain

4{o}.

[369] Like hideous features blended with the clouds Sibylline Leaves, 1817. (Errata: for 'blended', &c., read 'looming on the mist'. S. L., p. [xii].)

[378-9]

The name of JUSTICE written on thy brow Resplendent shone

4{o}, S. L. 1817.

(The reading of the text is given as an emendation in the Errata, Sibylline Leaves, 1817, p. [xii].)

[386] That plays around the sick man's throbbing temples 4{o}.

[394] Chieftains'] Chieftain's 4{o}.

[395] said] replied 4{o}, S. L., 1828.

Between lines 421 and 423 of the text, the text of Joan of Arc, Book II, inserts:—

A Vapor rose, pierc'd by the MAIDEN'S eye. Guiding its course OPPRESSION sate within,[145:A] With terror pale and rage, yet laugh'd at times Musing on Vengeance: trembled in his hand A Sceptre fiercely-grasp'd. O'er Ocean westward The Vapor sail'd

4{o}.

[145:A] These images imageless, these Small-Capitals constituting themselves Personifications, I despised even at that time; but was forced to introduce them, to preserve the connection with the machinery of the Poem, previously adopted by Southey. S. T. C.

After 429 of the text, the text of Joan of Arc inserts:—

ENVY sate guiding—ENVY, hag-abhorr'd! Like JUSTICE mask'd, and doom'd to aid the fight 410 Victorious 'gainst oppression. Hush'd awhile

4{o}.

[These lines were assigned by Coleridge to Southey.]

[434] with] by 4{o}.

[437-8]

Shriek'd AMBITION'S ghastly throng And with them those the locust Fiends that crawl'd[146:A]

4{o}.

[146:A] —if Locusts how could they shriek? I must have caught the contagion of unthinkingness. S. T. C. 4{o}.

[458] heavenly] goodly 4{o}.

[463] Love] Law 4{o}.

For lines 470-74 vide ante var. of lines 130 foll.



VER PERPETUUM[148:1]

FRAGMENT

From an unpublished poem.

The early Year's fast-flying vapours stray In shadowing trains across the orb of day: And we, poor Insects of a few short hours, Deem it a world of Gloom. Were it not better hope a nobler doom, 5 Proud to believe that with more active powers On rapid many-coloured wing We thro' one bright perpetual Spring Shall hover round the fruits and flowers, Screen'd by those clouds and cherish'd by those showers! 10

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[148:1] First published without title ('From an unpublished poem') in The Watchman, No. iv, March 25, 1796, and reprinted in Literary Remains, 1836, i. 44, with an extract from the Essay in the Watchman in which it was included:—'In my calmer moments I have the firmest faith that all things work together for good. But alas! it seems a long and dark process.' First collected with extract only in Appendix to 1863. First entitled 'Fragment from an Unpublished Poem' in 1893, and 'Ver Perpetuum' in 1907.



ON OBSERVING A BLOSSOM ON THE FIRST OF FEBRUARY 1796[148:2]

Sweet flower! that peeping from thy russet stem Unfoldest timidly, (for in strange sort This dark, frieze-coated, hoarse, teeth-chattering month Hath borrow'd Zephyr's voice, and gazed upon thee With blue voluptuous eye) alas, poor Flower! 5 These are but flatteries of the faithless year. Perchance, escaped its unknown polar cave, Even now the keen North-East is on its way. Flower that must perish! shall I liken thee To some sweet girl of too too rapid growth 10 Nipp'd by consumption mid untimely charms? Or to Bristowa's bard,[149:1] the wondrous boy! An amaranth, which earth scarce seem'd to own, Till disappointment came, and pelting wrong Beat it to earth? or with indignant grief 15 Shall I compare thee to poor Poland's hope, Bright flower of hope killed in the opening bud? Farewell, sweet blossom! better fate be thine And mock my boding! Dim similitudes Weaving in moral strains, I've stolen one hour 20 From anxious Self, Life's cruel taskmaster! And the warm wooings of this sunny day Tremble along my frame and harmonize The attempered organ, that even saddest thoughts Mix with some sweet sensations, like harsh tunes 25 Played deftly on a soft-toned instrument.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[148:2] First published in The Watchman, No. vi, April 11, 1796: included in 1797, 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[149:1] Chatterton.

LINENOTES:

Title] Lines on observing, &c., Written near Sheffield, Watchman, 1797, 1803.

[5] With 'blue voluptuous eye' 1803.

[Between 13 and 14] Blooming mid Poverty's drear wintry waste Watchman, 1797, 1803, S. L., 1817, 1828.

[16] hope] hopes, Watchman.

[21]

From black anxiety that gnaws my heart. For her who droops far off on a sick bed.

Watchman, 1797, 1803.

[24] Th' attempered brain, that ev'n the saddest thoughts Watchman, 1797, 1803.



TO A PRIMROSE[149:2]

THE FIRST SEEN IN THE SEASON

Nitens et roboris expers Turget et insolida est: et spe delectat. OVID, Metam. [xv. 203].

Thy smiles I note, sweet early Flower, That peeping from thy rustic bower The festive news to earth dost bring, A fragrant messenger of Spring.

But, tender blossom, why so pale? 5 Dost hear stern Winter in the gale? And didst thou tempt the ungentle sky To catch one vernal glance and die?

Such the wan lustre Sickness wears When Health's first feeble beam appears; 10 So languid are the smiles that seek To settle on the care-worn cheek,

When timorous Hope the head uprears, Still drooping and still moist with tears, If, through dispersing grief, be seen 15 Of Bliss the heavenly spark serene.

And sweeter far the early blow, Fast following after storms of Woe, Than (Comfort's riper season come) Are full-blown joys and Pleasure's gaudy bloom. 20

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[149:2] First published in The Watchman, No. viii, April 27, 1796: reprinted in Literary Remains, 1836, i. 47. First collected in Appendix to 1863.

LINENOTES:

To a Primrose.—Motto: et] at L. R., App. 1863.

[17-20] om. L. R., App. 1863



VERSES[150:1]

ADDRESSED TO J. HORNE TOOKE AND THE COMPANY WHO MET ON JUNE 28TH, 1796, TO CELEBRATE HIS POLL AT THE WESTMINSTER ELECTION

Britons! when last ye met, with distant streak So faintly promis'd the pale Dawn to break: So dim it stain'd the precincts of the Sky E'en Expectation gaz'd with doubtful Eye. But now such fair Varieties of Light 5 O'ertake the heavy sailing Clouds of Night; Th' Horizon kindles with so rich a red, That tho' the Sun still hides his glorious head Th' impatient Matin-bird, assur'd of Day, Leaves his low nest to meet its earliest ray; 10 Loud the sweet song of Gratulation sings, And high in air claps his rejoicing wings! Patriot and Sage! whose breeze-like Spirit first The lazy mists of Pedantry dispers'd (Mists in which Superstition's pigmy band 15 Seem'd Giant Forms, the Genii of the Land!), Thy struggles soon shall wak'ning Britain bless, And Truth and Freedom hail thy wish'd success. Yes Tooke! tho' foul Corruption's wolfish throng Outmalice Calumny's imposthum'd Tongue, 20 Thy Country's noblest and determin'd Choice, Soon shalt thou thrill the Senate with thy voice; With gradual Dawn bid Error's phantoms flit, Or wither with the lightning's flash of Wit; Or with sublimer mien and tones more deep, 25 Charm sworded Justice from mysterious Sleep, 'By violated Freedom's loud Lament, Her Lamps extinguish'd and her Temple rent; By the forc'd tears her captive Martyrs shed; By each pale Orphan's feeble cry for bread; 30 By ravag'd Belgium's corse-impeded Flood, And Vendee steaming still with brothers' blood!' And if amid the strong impassion'd Tale, Thy Tongue should falter and thy Lips turn pale; If transient Darkness film thy aweful Eye, 35 And thy tir'd Bosom struggle with a sigh: Science and Freedom shall demand to hear Who practis'd on a Life so doubly dear; Infus'd the unwholesome anguish drop by drop, Pois'ning the sacred stream they could not stop! 40 Shall bid thee with recover'd strength relate How dark and deadly is a Coward's Hate: What seeds of death by wan Confinement sown, When Prison-echoes mock'd Disease's groan! Shall bid th' indignant Father flash dismay, 45 And drag the unnatural Villain into Day Who[151:1] to the sports of his flesh'd Ruffians left Two lovely Mourners of their Sire bereft! 'Twas wrong, like this, which Rome's first Consul bore, So by th' insulted Female's name he swore 50 Ruin (and rais'd her reeking dagger high) Not to the Tyrants but the Tyranny!

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[150:1] First printed in the Transactions of the Philobiblon Society. First published in P. W., 1893. The verses (without the title) were sent by Coleridge in a letter to the Rev. J. P. Estlin, dated July 4, [1796].

[151:1] 'Dundas left thief-takers in Horne Tooke's House for three days, with his two Daughters alone: for Horne Tooke keeps no servant.' S. T. C. to Estlin.

LINENOTES:

[31, 32] These lines are borrowed from the first edition (4{o}) of the Ode to the Departing Year.]



ON A LATE CONNUBIAL RUPTURE IN HIGH LIFE[152:1]

[PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF WALES]

I sigh, fair injur'd stranger! for thy fate; But what shall sighs avail thee? thy poor heart, 'Mid all the 'pomp and circumstance' of state, Shivers in nakedness. Unbidden, start

Sad recollections of Hope's garish dream, 5 That shaped a seraph form, and named it Love, Its hues gay-varying, as the orient beam Varies the neck of Cytherea's dove.

To one soft accent of domestic joy Poor are the shouts that shake the high-arch'd dome; 10 Those plaudits that thy public path annoy, Alas! they tell thee—Thou'rt a wretch at home!

O then retire, and weep! Their very woes Solace the guiltless. Drop the pearly flood On thy sweet infant, as the full-blown rose, 15 Surcharg'd with dew, bends o'er its neighbouring bud.

And ah! that Truth some holy spell might lend To lure thy Wanderer from the Syren's power; Then bid your souls inseparably blend Like two bright dew-drops meeting in a flower. 20

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[152:1] First published in the Monthly Magazine, September 1796, vol. ii, pp. 64-7, reprinted in Felix Farley's Bristol Journal, Saturday, Oct. 8, 1796, and in the Poetical Register, 1806-7 [1811, vol. vi, p. 365]. First collected in P. and D. W., 1877, i. 187. The lines were sent in a letter to Estlin, dated July 4, 1796.

LINENOTES:

Title] To an Unfortunate Princess MS. Letter, July 4, 1796.

[17] might] could MS. Letter, 1796.

[18] thy] the Felix Farley's, &c.

[20] meeting] bosomed MS. Letter, 1796.



SONNET[152:2]

ON RECEIVING A LETTER INFORMING ME OF THE BIRTH OF A SON

When they did greet me father, sudden awe Weigh'd down my spirit: I retired and knelt Seeking the throne of grace, but inly felt No heavenly visitation upwards draw My feeble mind, nor cheering ray impart. 5 Ah me! before the Eternal Sire I brought Th' unquiet silence of confusd thought And shapeless feelings: my o'erwhelmd heart Trembled, and vacant tears stream'd down my face. And now once more, O Lord! to thee I bend, 10 Lover of souls! and groan for future grace, That ere my babe youth's perilous maze have trod, Thy overshadowing Spirit may descend, And he be born again, a child of God.

Sept. 20, 1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[152:2] First published in the 'Biographical Supplement' to the Biographia Literaria, 1847, ii. 379. First collected in P. and D. W., 1877-80. This and the two succeeding sonnets were enclosed in a letter to Poole, dated November 1, 1796. A note was affixed to the sonnet 'On Receiving', &c.: 'This sonnet puts in no claim to poetry (indeed as a composition I think so little of them that I neglected to repeat them to you) but it is a most faithful picture of my feelings on a very interesting event. When I was with you they were, indeed, excepting the first, in a rude and undrest shape.'

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet written on receiving letter informing me of the birth of a son, I being at Birmingham MS. Letter, Nov. 1, 1796.

[8] shapeless] hopeless B. L.



SONNET[153:1]

COMPOSED ON A JOURNEY HOMEWARD; THE AUTHOR HAVING RECEIVED INTELLIGENCE OF THE BIRTH OF A SON, SEPT. 20, 1796

Oft o'er my brain does that strange fancy roll Which makes the present (while the flash doth last) Seem a mere semblance of some unknown past, Mixed with such feelings, as perplex the soul Self-questioned in her sleep; and some have said[153:2] 5 We liv'd, ere yet this robe of flesh we wore.[154:1] O my sweet baby! when I reach my door, If heavy looks should tell me thou art dead, (As sometimes, through excess of hope, I fear) I think that I should struggle to believe 10 Thou wert a spirit, to this nether sphere Sentenc'd for some more venial crime to grieve; Did'st scream, then spring to meet Heaven's quick reprieve, While we wept idly o'er thy little bier!

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[153:1] First published in 1797: included in 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[153:2] n pou hmn h psych prin en tde t anthrpin eidei genesthai. Plat. Phaedon. Cap. xviii. 72 e.

[154:1] Almost all the followers of Fnelon believe that men are degraded Intelligences who had all once existed together in a paradisiacal or perhaps heavenly state. The first four lines express a feeling which I have often had—the present has appeared like a vivid dream or exact similitude of some past circumstances. MS. Letter to Poole, Nov. 1, 1796.

LINENOTES:

Title] Sonnet composed on my journey home from Birmingham MS. Letter, 1796: Sonnet ix. To a Friend, &c. 1797: Sonnet xvii. To a Friend, &c. 1803.

[1-11]

Oft of some unknown Past such Fancies roll Swift o'er my brain as make the Present seem For a brief moment like a most strange dream When not unconscious that she dreamt, the soul Questions herself in sleep! and some have said We lived ere yet this fleshly robe we wore.

MS. Letter, 1796.

[6] robe of flesh] fleshy robe 1797, 1803.

[8] art] wert MS. Letter, 1796, 1797, 1803.



SONNET[154:2]

TO A FRIEND WHO ASKED, HOW I FELT WHEN THE NURSE FIRST PRESENTED MY INFANT TO ME

Charles! my slow heart was only sad, when first I scann'd that face of feeble infancy: For dimly on my thoughtful spirit burst All I had been, and all my child might be! But when I saw it on its mother's arm, 5 And hanging at her bosom (she the while Bent o'er its features with a tearful smile) Then I was thrill'd and melted, and most warm Impress'd a father's kiss: and all beguil'd Of dark remembrance and presageful fear, 10 I seem'd to see an angel-form appear— 'Twas even thine, belovd woman mild! So for the mother's sake the child was dear, And dearer was the mother for the child.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[154:2] First published in 1797: included in 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834. The 'Friend' was, probably, Charles Lloyd.

LINENOTES:

Title] To a Friend who wished to know, &c. MS. Letter, Nov. 1, 1796: Sonnet x. To a Friend 1797: Sonnet xix. To a Friend, &c. 1803.

[4] child] babe MS. Letter, 1796, 1797, 1803.

[5] saw] watch'd MS. Letter, 1796.

[11] angel-form] Angel's form MS. Letter, 1796, 1797, 1803.

[13] Comforts on his late eve, whose youthful friend. MS. correction by S. T. C. in copy of Nugae Canorae in the British Museum.



SONNET[155:1]

[TO CHARLES LLOYD]

The piteous sobs that choke the Virgin's breath For him, the fair betrothd Youth, who lies Cold in the narrow dwelling, or the cries With which a Mother wails her darling's death, These from our nature's common impulse spring, 5 Unblam'd, unprais'd; but o'er the pild earth Which hides the sheeted corse of grey-hair'd Worth, If droops the soaring Youth with slacken'd wing; If he recall in saddest minstrelsy Each tenderness bestow'd, each truth imprest, 10 Such grief is Reason, Virtue, Piety! And from the Almighty Father shall descend Comforts on his late evening, whose young breast Mourns with no transient love the Agd Friend.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[155:1] First published in Poems on the Death of Priscilla Farmer. By her Grandson, 1796, folio. It prefaced the same set of Lloyd's Sonnets included in the second edition of Poems by S. T. Coleridge, 1797. It was included in C. Lloyd's Nugae Canorae, 1819. First collected in P. and D. W., 1877-80.



TO A YOUNG FRIEND[155:2]

ON HIS PROPOSING TO DOMESTICATE WITH THE AUTHOR

Composed in 1796

A mount, not wearisome and bare and steep, But a green mountain variously up-piled, Where o'er the jutting rocks soft mosses creep, Or colour'd lichens with slow oozing weep; Where cypress and the darker yew start wild; 5 And, 'mid the summer torrent's gentle dash Dance brighten'd the red clusters of the ash; Beneath whose boughs, by those still sounds beguil'd, Calm Pensiveness might muse herself to sleep; Till haply startled by some fleecy dam, 10 That rustling on the bushy cliff above With melancholy bleat of anxious love, Made meek enquiry for her wandering lamb: Such a green mountain 'twere most sweet to climb, E'en while the bosom ach'd with loneliness— 15 How more than sweet, if some dear friend should bless The adventurous toil, and up the path sublime Now lead, now follow: the glad landscape round, Wide and more wide, increasing without bound!

O then 'twere loveliest sympathy, to mark 20 The berries of the half-uprooted ash Dripping and bright; and list the torrent's dash,— Beneath the cypress, or the yew more dark, Seated at ease, on some smooth mossy rock; In social silence now, and now to unlock 25 The treasur'd heart; arm linked in friendly arm, Save if the one, his muse's witching charm Muttering brow-bent, at unwatch'd distance lag; Till high o'er head his beckoning friend appears, And from the forehead of the topmost crag 30 Shouts eagerly: for haply there uprears That shadowing Pine its old romantic limbs, Which latest shall detain the enamour'd sight Seen from below, when eve the valley dims, Tinged yellow with the rich departing light; 35 And haply, bason'd in some unsunn'd cleft, A beauteous spring, the rock's collected tears, Sleeps shelter'd there, scarce wrinkled by the gale! Together thus, the world's vain turmoil left, Stretch'd on the crag, and shadow'd by the pine, 40 And bending o'er the clear delicious fount, Ah! dearest youth! it were a lot divine To cheat our noons in moralising mood, While west-winds fann'd our temples toil-bedew'd: Then downwards slope, oft pausing, from the mount, 45 To some lone mansion, in some woody dale, Where smiling with blue eye, Domestic Bliss Gives this the Husband's, that the Brother's kiss!

Thus rudely vers'd in allegoric lore, The Hill of Knowledge I essayed to trace; 50 That verdurous hill with many a resting-place, And many a stream, whose warbling waters pour To glad, and fertilise the subject plains; That hill with secret springs, and nooks untrod, And many a fancy-blest and holy sod 55 Where Inspiration, his diviner strains Low-murmuring, lay; and starting from the rock's Stiff evergreens, (whose spreading foliage mocks Want's barren soil, and the bleak frosts of age, And Bigotry's mad fire-invoking rage!) 60 O meek retiring spirit! we will climb, Cheering and cheered, this lovely hill sublime; And from the stirring world up-lifted high (Whose noises, faintly wafted on the wind, To quiet musings shall attune the mind, 65 And oft the melancholy theme supply), There, while the prospect through the gazing eye Pours all its healthful greenness on the soul, We'll smile at wealth, and learn to smile at fame, Our hopes, our knowledge, and our joys the same, 70 As neighbouring fountains image each the whole: Then when the mind hath drunk its fill of truth We'll discipline the heart to pure delight, Rekindling sober joy's domestic flame. They whom I love shall love thee, honour'd youth! 75 Now may Heaven realise this vision bright!

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[155:2] First published in 1797: included in 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] To C. Lloyd on his proposing to domesticate, &c. 1797: To a Friend, &c. 1803. 'Composed in 1796' was added in S. L.

[8] those still] stilly 1797: stillest 1803.

[11] cliff] clift S. L., 1828, 1829.

[16] How heavenly sweet 1797, 1803.

[42] youth] Lloyd 1797: Charles 1803.

[46] lone] low 1797, 1803.

[60] And mad oppression's thunder-clasping rage 1797, 1803.

[69] We'll laugh at wealth, and learn to laugh at fame 1797, 1803.

[71] In 1803 the poem ended with line 71. In the Sibylline Leaves, 1829, the last five lines were replaced.

[72] hath drunk] has drank 1797: hath drank S. L., 1828, 1829.

[75] She whom I love, shall love thee. Honour'd youth 1797, S. L., 1817, 1828, 1829. The change of punctuation dates from 1834.



ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG MAN OF FORTUNE[157:1]

[C. LLOYD]

WHO ABANDONED HIMSELF TO AN INDOLENT AND CAUSELESS MELANCHOLY

Hence that fantastic wantonness of woe, O Youth to partial Fortune vainly dear! To plunder'd Want's half-shelter'd hovel go, Go, and some hunger-bitten infant hear Moan haply in a dying mother's ear: 5 Or when the cold and dismal fog-damps brood O'er the rank church-yard with sear elm-leaves strew'd, Pace round some widow's grave, whose dearer part Was slaughter'd, where o'er his uncoffin'd limbs The flocking flesh-birds scream'd! Then, while thy heart 10 Groans, and thine eye a fiercer sorrow dims, Know (and the truth shall kindle thy young mind) What Nature makes thee mourn, she bids thee heal! O abject! if, to sickly dreams resign'd, All effortless thou leave Life's commonweal 15 A prey to Tyrants, Murderers of Mankind.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[157:1] First published in the Cambridge Intelligencer, December 17, 1796: included in the Quarto Edition of the Ode on the Departing Year, 1796, in Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829, and 1834. The lines were sent in a letter to John Thelwall, dated December 17, 1796 (Letters of S. T. C., 1895, i. 207, 208).

LINENOTES:

Title] Lines, &c., C. I.: To a Young Man who abandoned himself to a causeless and indolent melancholy MS. Letter, 1796.

[6-7] These lines were omitted in the MS. Letter and 4{o} 1796, but were replaced in Sibylline Leaves, 1817.

[8] Or seek some widow's MS. Letter, Dec. 17, 1796.

[11] eye] eyes MS. Letter, Dec. 9, 1796, C. I.

[15-16]

earth's common weal A prey to the thron'd Murderess of Mankind.

MS. Letter, 1796.

All effortless thou leave Earth's commonweal A prey to the thron'd Murderers of Mankind.

C. I., 1796, 4{o}.



TO A FRIEND[158:1]

[CHARLES LAMB]

WHO HAD DECLARED HIS INTENTION OF WRITING NO MORE POETRY

Dear Charles! whilst yet thou wert a babe, I ween That Genius plung'd thee in that wizard fount Hight Castalie: and (sureties of thy faith) That Pity and Simplicity stood by, And promis'd for thee, that thou shouldst renounce 5 The world's low cares and lying vanities, Steadfast and rooted in the heavenly Muse, And wash'd and sanctified to Poesy. Yes—thou wert plung'd, but with forgetful hand Held, as by Thetis erst her warrior son: 10 And with those recreant unbaptizd heels Thou'rt flying from thy bounden ministeries— So sore it seems and burthensome a task To weave unwithering flowers! But take thou heed: For thou art vulnerable, wild-eyed boy, 15 And I have arrows[159:1] mystically dipped Such as may stop thy speed. Is thy Burns dead? And shall he die unwept, and sink to earth 'Without the meed of one melodious tear'? Thy Burns, and Nature's own beloved bard, 20 Who to the 'Illustrious[159:2] of his native Land So properly did look for patronage.' Ghost of Mcenas! hide thy blushing face! They snatch'd him from the sickle and the plough— To gauge ale-firkins.

Oh! for shame return! 25 On a bleak rock, midway the Aonian mount, There stands a lone and melancholy tree, Whose agd branches to the midnight blast Make solemn music: pluck its darkest bough, Ere yet the unwholesome night-dew be exhaled, 30 And weeping wreath it round thy Poet's tomb. Then in the outskirts, where pollutions grow, Pick the rank henbane and the dusky flowers Of night-shade, or its red and tempting fruit, These with stopped nostril and glove-guarded hand 35 Knit in nice intertexture, so to twine, The illustrious brow of Scotch Nobility!

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[158:1] First published in a Bristol newspaper in aid of a subscription for the family of Robert Burns (the cutting is bound up with the copy of Selection of Sonnets (S. S.) in the Forster Library in the Victoria and Albert Museum): reprinted in the Annual Anthology, 1800: included in Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[159:1]

[Polla moi hyp' anknos kea bel Endon enti pharetras Phnanta synetoisin]. Pind. Olymp. ii. 149, k. t. l.

[159:2] Verbatim from Burns's Dedication of his Poems to the Nobility and Gentry of the Caledonian Hunt.

LINENOTES:

[1] whilst] while An. Anth.

[3] of] for S. S., An. Anth.

[25] gauge] guard S. L., 1817 (For 'guard' read 'guage'. Errata, p. [xii]).

[33] stinking hensbane S. S., An. Anth.: hensbane S. L., 1817.

[35] Those with stopped nostrils MS. correction in printed slip of the newspaper. See P. and D. W., 1877, ii. 379.

[After 37] E S T E E S I 1796, An. Anth.



ODE TO THE DEPARTING YEAR[160:1]

Iou iou, kaka. Hyp' au me deinos orthomanteias ponos Strobei, tarassn phroimiois dysphroimiois.

* * * * *

To mellon hxei. Kai sy m' en tachei parn Agan althomantin oikteiras ereis. Aeschyl. Agam. 1173-75; 1199-1200.

ARGUMENT

The Ode[160:2] commences with an address to the Divine Providence that regulates into one vast harmony all the events of time, however calamitous some of them may appear to mortals. The second Strophe calls on men to suspend their private joys and sorrows, and devote them for a while to the cause of human nature in general. The first Epode speaks of the Empress of Russia, who died of an apoplexy on the 17th of November 1796; having just concluded a subsidiary treaty with the Kings combined against France. The first and second Antistrophe describe the Image of the Departing Year, etc., as in a vision. The second Epode prophesies, in anguish of spirit, the downfall of this country.

I

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 fix'd on Heaven's unchanging clime Long had I listen'd, free from mortal fear, 5 With inward stillness, and a bowd 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, 10 Ere yet the enter'd cloud foreclos'd my sight, I rais'd the impetuous song, and solemnis'd his flight.

II[161:1]

Hither, from the recent tomb, From the prison's direr gloom, From Distemper's midnight anguish; 15 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 fix'd her wishful gaze; 20 Hither, in perplexd dance, Ye Woes! ye young-eyed Joys! advance! By Time's wild harp, and by the hand Whose indefatigable sweep Raises its fateful strings from sleep, 25 I bid you haste, a mix'd tumultuous band! From every private bower, And each domestic hearth, Haste for one solemn hour; And with a loud and yet a louder voice, 30 O'er Nature struggling in portentous birth, Weep and rejoice! Still echoes the dread Name that o'er the earth[161:2] Let slip the storm, and woke the brood of Hell: And now advance in saintly Jubilee 35 Justice and Truth! They too have heard thy spell, They too obey thy name, divinest Liberty!

III[162:1]

I mark'd Ambition in his war-array! I heard the maild Monarch's troublous cry— 'Ah! wherefore does the Northern Conqueress stay![162:2] 40 Groans not her chariot on its onward way?' Fly, maild Monarch, fly! Stunn'd by Death's twice mortal mace, No more on Murder's lurid face The insatiate Hag shall gloat with drunken eye! 45 Manes of the unnumber'd slain! Ye that gasp'd on Warsaw's plain! Ye that erst at Ismail's tower, When human ruin choked the streams, Fell in Conquest's glutted hour, 50 Mid women's shrieks and infants' screams! Spirits of the uncoffin'd slain, Sudden blasts of triumph swelling, Oft, at night, in misty train, Rush around her narrow dwelling! 55 The exterminating Fiend is fled— (Foul her life, and dark her doom) Mighty armies of the dead Dance, like death-fires, round her tomb! Then with prophetic song relate, 60 Each some Tyrant-Murderer's fate!

IV[164:1]

Departing Year! 'twas on no earthly shore My soul beheld thy Vision![164:2] Where alone, Voiceless and stern, before the cloudy throne, Aye Memory sits: thy robe inscrib'd with gore, 65 With many an unimaginable groan Thou storied'st thy sad hours! Silence ensued, Deep silence o'er the ethereal multitude, Whose locks with wreaths, whose wreaths with glories shone. Then, his eye wild ardours glancing, 70 From the choird gods advancing, The Spirit of the Earth made reverence meet, And stood up, beautiful, before the cloudy seat.

V

Throughout the blissful throng, Hush'd were harp and song: 75 Till wheeling round the throne the Lampads seven, (The mystic Words of Heaven) Permissive signal make: The fervent Spirit bow'd, then spread his wings and spake! 'Thou in stormy blackness throning 80 Love and uncreated Light, By the Earth's unsolaced groaning, Seize thy terrors, Arm of might! By Peace with proffer'd insult scared, Masked Hate and envying Scorn! 85 By years of Havoc yet unborn! And Hunger's bosom to the frost-winds bared! But chief by Afric's wrongs, Strange, horrible, and foul! By what deep guilt belongs 90 To the deaf Synod, 'full of gifts and lies!'[165:1] By Wealth's insensate laugh! by Torture's howl! Avenger, rise! For ever shall the thankless Island scowl, Her quiver full, and with unbroken bow? 95 Speak! from thy storm-black Heaven O speak aloud! And on the darkling foe Open thine eye of fire from some uncertain cloud! O dart the flash! O rise and deal the blow! The Past to thee, to thee the Future cries! 100 Hark! how wide Nature joins her groans below! Rise, God of Nature! rise.'

VI[166:1]

The voice had ceas'd, the Vision fled; Yet still I gasp'd and reel'd with dread. And ever, when the dream of night 105 Renews the phantom to my sight, Cold sweat-drops gather on my limbs; My ears throb hot; my eye-balls start; My brain with horrid tumult swims; Wild is the tempest of my heart; 110 And my thick and struggling breath Imitates the toil of death! No stranger agony confounds The Soldier on the war-field spread, When all foredone with toil and wounds, 115 Death-like he dozes among heaps of dead! (The strife is o'er, the day-light fled, And the night-wind clamours hoarse! See! the starting wretch's head Lies pillow'd on a brother's corse!) 120