[429:1] First published in Letters, Conversations and Recollections by S. T. Coleridge, 1836, i. 144. First collected in Poems, 1863, Appendix, p. 391.
LIMBO[429:2]
It frightens Ghosts, as here Ghosts frighten men.
Thence cross'd unseiz'd—and shall some fated hour
Be pulveris'd by Demogorgon's power,
[430]And given as poison to annihilate souls— 5
Even now it shrinks them—they shrink in as Moles
(Nature's mute monks, live mandrakes of the ground)
Creep back from Light—then listen for its sound;—
See but to dread, and dread they know not why—
The natural alien of their negative eye. 10
Yet name it so;—where Time and weary Space
Fettered from flight, with night-mare sense of fleeing,
Strive for their last crepuscular half-being;—
Lank Space, and scytheless Time with branny hands 15
Barren and soundless as the measuring sands,
Not mark'd by flit of Shades,—unmeaning they
As moonlight on the dial of the day!
But that is lovely—looks like Human Time,—
An Old Man with a steady look sublime, 20
That stops his earthly task to watch the skies;
But he is blind—a Statue hath such eyes;—
Yet having moonward turn'd his face by chance,
Gazes the orb with moon-like countenance,
With scant white hairs, with foretop bald and high, 25
He gazes still,—his eyeless face all eye;—
As 'twere an organ full of silent sight,
His whole face seemeth to rejoice in light!
Lip touching lip, all moveless, bust and limb—
He seems to gaze at that which seems to gaze on him! 30
No such sweet sights doth Limbo den immure,
Wall'd round, and made a spirit-jail secure,
[431]By the mere horror of blank Naught-at-all,
Whose circumambience doth these ghosts enthral.
A lurid thought is growthless, dull Privation, 35
Yet that is but a Purgatory curse;
Hell knows a fear far worse,
A fear—a future state;—'tis positive Negation!
1817.
FOOTNOTES:
[429:2] First published, in its present shape, from an original MS. in 1893 (inscribed in a notebook). Lines 6-10 ('they shrink . . . negative eye') were first printed in The Friend (1818, iii. 215), and included as a separate fragment with the title 'Moles' in P. W., 1834, i. 259. Lines 11-38 were first printed with the title 'Limbo' in P. W., 1834, i. 272-3. The lines as quoted in The Friend were directed against 'the partisans of a crass and sensual materialism, the advocates of the Nihil nisi ab extra'. The following variants, now first printed, are from a second MS. (MS. S. T. C.) in the possession of Miss Edith Coleridge. In the notebook Limbo is followed by the lines entitled Ne Plus Ultra, vide post, p. 431.
LINENOTES:
Title] Another Fragment, but in a very different style, from a Dream of Purgatory, alias Limbus MS. S. T. C. [Note.—In this MS. Phantom, 'All Look and Likeness,' &c. precedes Limbo.]
Between 2-3:
Of the old Boat-God for his farthing fare;
Tho' Irus' Ghost itself he ne'er frown'd blacker on
The skin and skin-pent Druggist cross'd the Acheron,
Styx, and with Periphlegeton Cocytus,—
(The very names, methinks, might frighten us)
Unchang'd it cross'd—and shall some fated hour
[Coleridge marks these lines as 'a specimen of the Sublime dashed to pieces by cutting too close with the fiery Four-in-Hand round the corner of Nonsense.']
They, like moles Friend, 1818.
Shrink from the light, then listen for a sound Friend, 1818.
so] such MS. S. T. C.
the] his MS. S. T. C.
Mark'd but by Flit MS. S. T. C.
at] on MS. S. T. C.
31 foll.
And through this grim road to [a] worser thrall
Oft homeward scouring from a sick Child's dream
Old Mother Brownrigg shoots upon a scream;
And turning back her Face with hideous Leer,
Leaves Sentry there Intolerable Fear!
A horrid thought is growthless dull Negation:
Yet that is but a Purgatory Curse,
She knows a fear far worse
Flee, lest thou hear its Name! Flee, rash Imagination!
NE PLUS ULTRA[431:1]
Antipathist of Light!
Fate's only essence! primal scorpion rod—
The one permitted opposite of God!—
Condenséd blackness and abysmal storm 5
Compacted to one sceptre
Arms the Grasp enorm—
The Intercepter—
The Substance that still casts the shadow Death!—
The Dragon foul and fell— 10
The unrevealable,
And hidden one, whose breath
Gives wind and fuel to the fires of Hell!
Ah! sole despair
Of both th' eternities in Heaven! 15
Sole interdict of all-bedewing prayer,
The all-compassionate!
Save to the Lampads Seven
Reveal'd to none of all th' Angelic State,
Save to the Lampads Seven, 20
That watch the throne of Heaven!
? 1826.
FOOTNOTES:
[431:1] First published in 1834. The MS., which is inscribed in a notebook, is immediately preceded by that of the first draft of Limbo (ante, p. 429). The so-called 'Ne Plus Ultra' may have been intended to illustrate a similar paradox—the 'positivity of negation'. No date can be assigned to either of these metaphysical conceits, but there can be little doubt that they were 'written in later life'.
THE KNIGHT'S TOMB[432:1]
Where may the grave of that good man be?—
By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn,
Under the twigs of a young birch tree!
The oak that in summer was sweet to hear, 5
And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year,
And whistled and roared in the winter alone,
Is gone,—and the birch in its stead is grown.—
The Knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;— 10
His soul is with the saints, I trust.
? 1817.
FOOTNOTES:
[432:1] First published in P. W., 1834. Gillman (Life, p. 276) says that the lines were composed 'as an experiment for a metre', and repeated by the author to 'a mutual friend', who 'spoke of his visit to Highgate' and repeated them to Scott on the following day. The last three lines, 'somewhat altered', are quoted in Ivanhoe, chapter viii, and again in Castle Dangerous, chapter ix. They run thus:—
And their good swords are rust;—
Their souls are with the saints, we trust.
Gillman says that the Ivanhoe quotation convinced Coleridge that Scott was the author of the Waverley Novels. In the Appendix to the 'Notes' to Castle Dangerous (1834), which was edited and partly drawn up by Lockhart, the poem is quoted in full, with a prefatory note ('The author has somewhat altered part of a beautiful unpublished fragment of Coleridge').
Where may the grave of that good knight be?
By the marge of a brook, on the slope of Helvellyn,
Under the boughs of a young birch-tree.
The Oak that in summer was pleasant to hear,
That rustled in autumn all wither'd and sear,
That whistled and groan'd thro' the winter alone,
He hath gone, and a birch in his place is grown.
The knight's bones are dust,
His good sword is rust;
His spirit is with the saints, we trust.
This version must have been transcribed from a MS. in Lockhart's possession, and represents a first draft of the lines as published in 1834. These lines are, no doubt, an 'experiment for a metre'. The upward movement (ll. 1-7) is dactylic: the fall (ll. 8-11) is almost, if not altogether, spondaic. The whole forms a complete stanza, or metrical scheme, which may be compared with ll. 264-78 of the First Part of Christabel. Mrs. H. N. Coleridge, who must have been familiar with Gillman's story, dates the Knight's Tomb 1802.
ON DONNE'S POETRY[433:1]
Wreathe iron pokers into true-love knots;
Rhyme's sturdy cripple, fancy's maze and clue,
Wit's forge and fire-blast, meaning's press and screw.
? 1818
FOOTNOTES:
[433:1] First published in Literary Remains, 1836, i. 148, from 'notes written by Mr. Coleridge in a volume of "Chalmers's Poets"'. Line 2 finds a place in Hartley Coleridge's couplets on Donne which are written on the fly-leaves and covers of his copy of Anderson's British Poets. In the original MS. it is enclosed in quotation marks. First collected in P. W., 1885, ii. 409.
ISRAEL'S LAMENT[433:2]
'A Hebrew Dirge, chaunted in the Great Synagogue, St. James's Place, Aldgate, on the day of the Funeral of her Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte. By Hyman Hurwitz, Master of the Hebrew Academy, Highgate: with a Translation in English Verse, by S. T. Coleridge, Esq., 1817.'
Give utterance to the inward throe!
As wails, of her first love forlorn,
The Virgin clad in robes of woe.
From Light and Life's ascending Sun!
Mourn for the Babe, Death's voiceless prey,
Earn'd by long pangs and lost ere won.
Ere half disclosed its vernal hue! 10
Mourn the green Bud, so rudely rent,
It brake the stem on which it grew.
With solemn dirge and fault'ring tongue:
For England's Lady is laid low, 15
So dear, so lovely, and so young!
Shone with the dews of recent bliss:
Transplanted in that deadly strife,
She plucks its fruits in Paradise. 20
Who wails and will not solaced be!
Mourn for the childless Father's grief,
The wedded Lover's agony!
To seek and bless the firstling bud
Of his own Rose, and found the thorn,
Its point bedew'd with tears of blood.
Again bewail that princely Sire! 30
A destined Queen, a future King,
He mourns on one funereal pyre.
Her daughters wail their dear defence;
Their fair example, prostrate laid, 35
Chaste Love and fervid Innocence.
We will take up a Mourning yearly:
To wail the blow that crush'd the Rose,
So dearly priz'd and lov'd so dearly. 40
Will I the yearly dirge renew:
Mourn for the firstling of the Rose,
That snapt the stem on which it grew.
Damp, trickling Vault their only mourner!
Not so the regal Rose, that still
Clung to the breast which first had worn her!
To sad Jeshurun's Sons attend! 50
Amid the Light'nings of thy Wrath
The showers of Consolation send!
And Prince and People kiss the Rod!—
Their dread chastising Judge wert thou! 55
Be thou their Comforter, O God!
1817.
FOOTNOTES:
[433:2] First published, together with the Hebrew, as an octavo pamphlet (pp. 13) in 1817. An abbreviated version was included in Literary Remains, 1836, i. 57-8 and in the Appendix to Poems, 1863. The Lament as a whole was first collected in P. and D. W., 1877-80, ii. 282-5.
LINENOTES:
Title] Israel's Lament on the death of the Princess Charlotte of Wales. From the Hebrew of Hyman Hurwitz L. R.
Transplanted] Translated L. R., 1863.
om. L. R, 1863.
om. L. R., 1863.
om. L. R., 1863.
Mourner's] Mourners' L. R., 1863.
FANCY IN NUBIBUS[435:1]
OR THE POET IN THE CLOUDS
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To make the shifting clouds be what you please,
Or let the easily persuaded eyes
Own each quaint likeness issuing from the mould 5
Of a friend's fancy; or with head bent low
And cheek aslant see rivers flow of gold
'Twixt crimson banks; and then, a traveller, go
From mount to mount through Cloudland, gorgeous land!
Or list'ning to the tide, with closéd sight, 10
Be that blind bard, who on the Chian strand
By those deep sounds possessed with inward light,
Beheld the Iliad and the Odyssee
Rise to the swelling of the voiceful sea.
1817.
FOOTNOTES:
[435:1] First published in Felix Farley's Bristol Journal for February 7, 1818: and afterwards in Blackwood's Magazine for November, 1819. First collected in 1828: included in 1829 and 1834. A MS. in the possession of Major Butterworth of Carlisle is signed 'S. T. Coleridge, Little Hampton, Oct. 1818'. In a letter to Coleridge dated Jan. 10, 1820, Lamb asks, 'Who put your marine sonnet [i. e. A Sonnet written on the Sea Coast, vide Title] . . . in Blackwood?' F. Freiligrath in his Introduction to the Tauchnitz edition says that the last five lines are borrowed from Stolberg's An das Meer; vide Appendices of this edition.
LINENOTES:
Title] Fancy, &c. A Sonnet Composed by the Seaside, October 1817. F. F.: Fancy in Nubibus. A Sonnet, composed on the Sea Coast 1819.
let] bid 1819.
Own] Owe F. F. 1818. quaint] strange 1819.
head] heart MS.: head bow'd low 1819.
through] o'er 1819.
THE TEARS OF A GRATEFUL PEOPLE[436:1]
A Hebrew Dirge and Hymn, chaunted in the Great Synagogue. St. James' pl. Aldgate, on the Day of the Funeral of King George III. of blessed memory. By Hyman Hurwitz of Highgate, Translated by a Friend.
And inly shrinking from the blow,
In vain I seek the dirgeful strain,
The wonted words refuse to flow.
Each voice is that of one who grieves;
And all my Soul, to grief resigned,
Reflects the sorrow it receives.
Our King has breathed his latest breath! 10
Each heart its wonted pulse forgets,
As if it own'd the pow'r of death.
Britannia's glory moults its wing!
Let us with ashes on our head, 15
Raise up a mourning for our King.
Sad gleams the Moon through cloudy veil!
The Stars are dim! Our Nobles mourn;
The Matrons weep, their Children wail. 20
His virtues numerous as his days;
The Lord Jehovah was his trust,
And truth with mercy ruled his ways.
Each diverse Race, each distant Clan
He govern'd by this truth sublime,
'God only knows the heart—not man.'
Iniquity far wing'd her way; 30
Deceit and fraud were scatter'd wide,
And truth resum'd her sacred sway.
From impious tyranny he tore;
He stay'd th' Usurper's iron sway, 35
And bade the Spoiler waste no more.
Th' oppress'd of nations and the scorn!
Didst hail on his benignant brow
A safety dawning like the morn. 40
Thy doom was hard, and keen thy grief;
Beneath his throne, peace thou didst find,
And blest the hand that gave relief.
The moonlight splendour of his sway,
Yet still the light remain'd, and shed
Mild radiance on the traveller's way.
Nor could a Nation's pray'r delay 50
The heavenly meed, that long had stood
His portion in the realms of day.
The mightier Nation mourns her Chief:
Him Judah's Daughter shall lament, 55
In tears of fervour, love and grief.
Her heart a prey to inward woe.
In vain she strives to find relief,
Her pang so great, so great the blow. 60
Full fain would I console thy woe.
But, ah! how shall I comfort thee,
Who need the balm I would bestow?
As round our common Parent's grave;
And pouring out our heart in prayer,
Our heav'nly Father's mercy crave.
Shall heed his suffering people's fears; 70
Shall turn to song the Mourner's groan,
To smiles of joy the Nation's tears.
And bless Jehovah's righteous hand!
Again he bids a George, our King, 75
Dispense his blessings to the Land.
Jehovah! hear thy Children's prayers and sighs!
Thou Binder of the broken heart! with wings
Of healing on thy people rise! 80
Thy mercies, Lord, are sweet;
And Peace and Mercy meet,
Before thy Judgment seat:
Lord, hear us! we entreat!
E'en from the cloud thou bid'st thy mercy shine:
And ere thy righteous vengeance strikes the wound,
Thy grace prepares the balm divine!
Thy mercies, Lord, are sweet;
etc.
It fell not till the ripen'd fruit was won:
Beneath its shade the Scion flourish'd fair,
And for the Sire thou gav'st the Son.
etc.
And train up for us from the royal root, 95
Protect, O Lord! and to the Nations near
Long let it shelter yield, and fruit,
etc.
Let Peace and Joy watch round us hand and hand.
Our Nobles visit with thy grace divine, 100
And banish sorrow from the land!
Thy mercies, Lord, are sweet;
And Peace and Mercy meet
Before thy Judgment seat;
Lord, hear us! we entreat! 105
1820.
FOOTNOTES:
[436:1] First published with the Hebrew in pamphlet form in 1820. First collected in 1893.
[436:2] The author, in the spirit of Hebrew Poetry, here represents the Crown, the Peerage, and the Commonalty, by the figurative expression of the Sun, Moon, and Stars.
YOUTH AND AGE[439:1]
Where Hope clung feeding, like a bee—
Both were mine! Life went a-maying
With Nature, Hope, and Poesy,
When I was young! 5
Ah! for the change 'twixt Now and Then!
This breathing house not built with hands,
This body that does me grievous wrong,
O'er aery cliffs and glittering sands, 10
How lightly then it flashed along:—
Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore,
On winding lakes and rivers wide,
That ask no aid of sail or oar,
That fear no spite of wind or tide! 15
[440]Nought cared this body for wind or weather
When Youth and I lived in't together.
Friendship is a sheltering tree;
O! the joys, that came down shower-like. 20
Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty,
Ere I was old!
Which tells me, Youth's no longer here!
O Youth! for years so many and sweet, 25
'Tis known, that Thou and I were one,
I'll think it but a fond conceit—
It cannot be that Thou art gone!
Thy vesper-bell hath not yet toll'd:—
And thou wert aye a masker bold! 30
What strange disguise hast now put on,
To make believe, that thou art gone?
I see these locks in silvery slips,
This drooping gait, this altered size:
But Spring-tide blossoms on thy lips. 35
And tears take sunshine from thine eyes!
Life is but thought: so think I will
That Youth and I are house-mates still.
But the tears of mournful eve! 40
Where no hope is, life's a warning
That only serves to make us grieve,
When we are old:
1823-1832.
FOOTNOTES:
[439:1] First published in its present shape in 1834. Lines 1-38, with the heading 'Youth and Age', were first published in the Literary Souvenir, 1828, and also in the Bijou, 1828: included in 1828, 1829. Lines 39-49 were first published in Blackwood's Magazine for June 1832, entitled 'An Old Man's Sigh: a Sonnet', as 'an out-slough or hypertrophic stanza of a certain poem called "Youth and Age".' Of lines 1-43 three MSS. are extant. (1) A fair copy (MS. 1) presented to Derwent Coleridge, and now in the Editor's possession. In MS. 1 the poem is divided into three stanzas: (i) lines 1-17; (ii) lines 18-38; (iii) lines 39-43. The watermark of this MS. on a quarto sheet of Bath Post letter-paper is 1822. (2) A rough draft, in a notebook dated Sept. 10, 1823; and (3) a corrected draft of forty-three lines (vide for MSS. 2, 3 Appendices of this edition). A MS. version of An Old Man's Sigh, dated 'Grove, Highgate, April 1832', was contributed to Miss Rotha Quillinan's Album; and another version numbering only eight lines was inscribed in an album in 1828 when Coleridge was on his Rhine tour with Wordsworth. After line 42 this version continues:—
Yet courteous dame, accept this truth,
Hope leaves us not, but we leave hope,
And quench the inward light of youth.
There can be little doubt that lines 1-43 were composed in 1823, and that the last six lines of the text which form part of An Old Man's Sigh were composed, as an afterthought, in 1832.