[71:2] First published in the Fall of Robespierre, 1795: included (as 'Song', p. 13) in 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxv. 1796.

ON A DISCOVERY MADE TOO LATE[72:1]

Thou bleedest, my poor Heart! and thy distress
 Reasoning I ponder with a scornful smile
 And probe thy sore wound sternly, though the while
 Swoln be mine eye and dim with heaviness.
 Why didst thou listen to Hope's whisper bland? 5
 Or, listening, why forget the healing tale,
 When Jealousy with feverous fancies pale
 Jarr'd thy fine fibres with a maniac's hand?
 Faint was that Hope, and rayless!—Yet 'twas fair
 And sooth'd with many a dream the hour of rest: 10
 Thou should'st have lov'd it most, when most opprest,
 And nurs'd it with an agony of care,
 Even as a mother her sweet infant heir
 That wan and sickly droops upon her breast!

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[72:1] First published in 1796: Selection of Sonnets, Poems 1796: in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. It was sent in a letter to Southey, dated October 21, 1794. (Letters of S. T. C., 1895, i. 92.)

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xix. 1796 (in 'Contents' To my Heart): Sonnet II. On a Discovery made too late 1797, 1803, and again in P. and D. W., 1877-80: Sonnet xi. 1828, 1829, 1834.

[2-4]
Doth Reason ponder with an anguish'd smile
 Probing thy sore wound sternly, tho' the while
 Her eye be swollen and dim with heaviness.

Letter, 1794.

[6]

the] its Letter, 1794.

[7]

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

[14]

wan] pale Letter, 1794.

TO THE AUTHOR OF 'THE ROBBERS'[72:2]

Schiller! that hour I would have wish'd to die,
 If thro' the shuddering midnight I had sent
 From the dark dungeon of the Tower time-rent
 That fearful voice, a famish'd Father's cry—
 [73]Lest in some after moment aught more mean 5
 Might stamp me mortal! A triumphant shout
 Black Horror scream'd, and all her goblin rout
 Diminish'd shrunk from the more withering scene!
 Ah! Bard tremendous in sublimity!
 Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood 10
 Wandering at eve with finely-frenzied eye
 Beneath some vast old tempest-swinging wood!
 Awhile with mute awe gazing I would brood:
 Then weep aloud in a wild ecstasy!

? 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[72:2] First published in 1796: included in Selection of Sonnets, 1796: in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. The following 'Note' (Note 6, pp. 180, 181) was printed in 1796, and appears again in 1797 as a footnote, p. 83:—'One night in Winter, on leaving a College-friend's room, with whom I had supped, I carelessly took away with me "The Robbers", a drama, the very name of which I had never before heard of:—A Winter midnight—the wind high—and "The Robbers" for the first time!—The readers of Schiller will conceive what I felt. Schiller introduces no supernatural beings; yet his human beings agitate and astonish more than all the goblin rout—even of Shakespeare.' See for another account of the midnight reading of 'The Robbers', Letter to Southey, November [6], 1794, Letters of S. T. C., 1895, i. 96, 97.

In the Selection of Sonnets, 1796, this note was reduced to one sentence. 'Schiller introduces no Supernatural Beings.' In 1803 the note is omitted, but a footnote to line 4 is appended: 'The Father of Moor in the Play of the Robbers.'

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xx. To the Author, &c. [To 'Schiller', Contents] 1796: Sonnet viii. To the Author of 'The Robbers' 1797: Sonnet xv. 1803: Sonnet xii. To the Author of the Robbers 1828, 1829, 1834.

Lines 1-4 are printed in the reverse order (4, 3, 2, 1). Selections.

[5-6]
That in no after moment aught, less vast
 Might stamp me human!

Selections.

That in no after moment aught less vast
 Might stamp me mortal!

1797, 1803.

[8]

From the more with'ring scene diminish'd past. Selections, 1797, 1803.

MELANCHOLY[73:1]

A FRAGMENT

Stretch'd on a moulder'd Abbey's broadest wall,
 Where ruining ivies propp'd the ruins steep—
 Her folded arms wrapping her tatter'd pall,
 [73:2]Had Melancholy mus'd herself to sleep.
 [74]The fern was press'd beneath her hair, 5
 The dark green Adder's Tongue[74:1] was there;
 And still as pass'd the flagging sea-gale weak,
 The long lank leaf bow'd fluttering o'er her cheek.
That pallid cheek was flush'd: her eager look
 Beam'd eloquent in slumber! Inly wrought, 10
 Imperfect sounds her moving lips forsook,
 And her bent forehead work'd with troubled thought.
 Strange was the dream——

? 1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[73:1] First published in the Morning Post, December 12, 1797 (not, as Coleridge says, the Morning Chronicle); included in Sibylline Leaves, 1817 (with an addition), and, again, in P. and D. W., 1877-80, and (in its first shape) in 1828, 1829, 1834, 1852, and 1893. Sent in Letter to Sotheby, Aug. 26, 1802.

[73:2] Bowles borrowed these lines unconsciously, I doubt not. I had repeated the poem on my first visit [Sept. 1797]. MS. Note, S. T. C. See, too, Letter, Aug. 26, 1802. [Here Melancholy on the pale crags laid, Might muse herself to sleep—Coomb Ellen, written September, 1798.]

[74:1] A Plant found on old walls and in wells and mois[t] [h]edges.—It is often called the Hart's Tongue. M. C. Asplenium Scolopendrium, more commonly called Hart's Tongue. Letter, 1802. A botanical mistake. The plant I meant is called the Hart's Tongue, but this would unluckily spoil the poetical effect. Cedat ergo Botanice. Sibylline Leaves, 1817. A botanical mistake. The plant which the poet here describes is called the Hart's Tongue, 1828, 1829, 1852.

LINENOTES:

[1]

Upon a mouldering Letter, Aug. 26, 1802.

[2]

Where ruining] Whose running M. C. propp'd] prop Letter, Aug. 26, 1802.

[7]

pass'd] came Letter, 1802. sea-gale] sea-gales M. C., Letter, 1802.

[8]

The] Her Letter, 1802.

[9]

That] Her Letter, 1802.

[13]

Not in Letter 1802.

[13]
Strange was the dream that fill'd her soul,
 Nor did not whisp'ring spirits roll
 A mystic tumult, and a fateful rhyme,
 Mix'd with wild shapings of the unborn time!

M. C., Sibylline Leaves, 1817.

TO A YOUNG ASS[74:2]

ITS MOTHER BEING TETHERED NEAR IT

Poor little Foal of an oppresséd race!
 I love the languid patience of thy face:
 And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread,
 And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head.
 But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd, 5
 That never thou dost sport along the glade?
 [75]And (most unlike the nature of things young)
 That earthward still thy moveless head is hung?
 Do thy prophetic fears anticipate,
 Meek Child of Misery! thy future fate? 10
 The starving meal, and all the thousand aches
 'Which patient Merit of the Unworthy takes'?
 Or is thy sad heart thrill'd with filial pain
 To see thy wretched mother's shorten'd chain?
 And truly, very piteous is her lot— 15
 Chain'd to a log within a narrow spot,
 Where the close-eaten grass is scarcely seen,
 While sweet around her waves the tempting green!
Poor Ass! thy master should have learnt to show
 Pity—best taught by fellowship of Woe! 20
 For much I fear me that He lives like thee,
 Half famish'd in a land of Luxury!
 How askingly its footsteps hither bend?
 It seems to say, 'And have I then one friend?'
 Innocent foal! thou poor despis'd forlorn! 25
 I hail thee Brother—spite of the fool's scorn!
 And fain would take thee with me, in the Dell
 Of Peace and mild Equality to dwell,
 Where Toil shall call the charmer Health his bride,
 And Laughter tickle Plenty's ribless side! 30
 [76]How thou wouldst toss thy heels in gamesome play,
 And frisk about, as lamb or kitten gay!
 Yea! and more musically sweet to me
 Thy dissonant harsh bray of joy would be,
 Than warbled melodies that soothe to rest 35
 The aching of pale Fashion's vacant breast!

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[74:2] First published in the Morning Chronicle, December 30, 1794: included in 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. A MS. version, dated October 24, 1794 (see P. W., 1893, pp. 477, 488), was presented by Coleridge to Professor William Smyth, Professor of Modern History at Cambridge, 1807-49; a second version was included in a letter to Southey, dated December 17, 1794 (Letters of S. T. C., 1895, i. 119, 120).

LINENOTES:

Title] Monologue to a Young Jack Ass in Jesus Piece. Its mother near it chained to a log MS. Oct. 24, 1794: Address to a Young Jack-Ass and its Tether'd mother MS. Dec. 17, 1794: Address, &c. In familiar verse Morning Chronicle, Dec. 30, 1794: Effusion xxxiii. To a Young Ass, &c. 1796.

[3]

gentle] friendly MS. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[4]

pat] scratch MS. Oct. 1794, M. C.

[5]

spirits] spirit MSS. Oct. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[6]

along] upon MS. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[8]

That still to earth thy moping head is hung MSS. Oct. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[9]

Doth thy prophetic soul MS. Oct. 1794.

[12]

Which] That MSS. Oct. Dec. 1794.

[14]

shorten'd] lengthen'd MS. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[16]

within] upon MSS. Oct. Dec. 1794, M. C.

[19]

thy] her 1796.

[21]

For much I fear, that He lives e'en as she, 1796.

[23]

footsteps hither bend] steps toward me tend MS. Oct. 1794: steps towards me bend MS. Dec. 1794, M. C.: footsteps t'ward me bend 1796.

[25]

despised and forlorn MS. Oct. 1794.

[27]

would] I'd MSS. Oct. Dec. 1794. in] to MS. Oct. 1794.

[28]

Of high-soul'd Pantisocracy to dwell MS. Dec. 1794, M. C.

28 foll.

Where high-soul'd Pantisocracy shall dwell!
 Where Mirth shall tickle Plenty's ribless side,[75:A]
 And smiles from Beauty's Lip on sunbeams glide,
 Where Toil shall wed young Health that charming Lass!
 And use his sleek cows for a looking-glass—
 Where Rats shall mess with Terriers hand-in-glove
 And Mice with Pussy's Whiskers sport in Love

MS. Oct. 1794.

[75:A] This is a truly poetical line of which the author has assured us that he did not mean it to have any meaning. Note by Ed. of MS. Oct. 1794.

[35-6]
Than Handel's softest airs that soothe to rest
 The tumult of a scoundrel Monarch's Breast.

MS. Oct. 1794.

Than Banti's warbled airs that sooth to rest
 The tumult &c.

MS. Dec. 1794.

[36]
The tumult of some Scoundrel Monarch's breast.

M. C. 1796.

LINES ON A FRIEND[76:1]

WHO DIED OF A FRENZY FEVER INDUCED BY CALUMNIOUS REPORTS

Edmund! thy grave with aching eye I scan,
 And inly groan for Heaven's poor outcast—Man!
 'Tis tempest all or gloom: in early youth
 If gifted with th' Ithuriel lance of Truth
 We force to start amid her feign'd caress 5
 Vice, siren-hag! in native ugliness;
 A Brother's fate will haply rouse the tear,
 And on we go in heaviness and fear!
 But if our fond hearts call to Pleasure's bower
 Some pigmy Folly in a careless hour, 10
 The faithless guest shall stamp the enchanted ground,
 And mingled forms of Misery rise around:
 Heart-fretting Fear, with pallid look aghast,
 That courts the future woe to hide the past;
 Remorse, the poison'd arrow in his side, 15
 And loud lewd Mirth, to Anguish close allied:
 [77]Till Frenzy, fierce-eyed child of moping Pain,
 Darts her hot lightning-flash athwart the brain.
Rest, injur'd shade! Shall Slander squatting near
 Spit her cold venom in a dead man's ear? 20
 'Twas thine to feel the sympathetic glow
 In Merit's joy, and Poverty's meek woe;
 Thine all, that cheer the moment as it flies,
 The zoneless Cares, and smiling Courtesies.
 Nurs'd in thy heart the firmer Virtues grew, 25
 And in thy heart they wither'd! Such chill dew
 Wan Indolence on each young blossom shed;
 And Vanity her filmy net-work spread,
 With eye that roll'd around in asking gaze,
 And tongue that traffick'd in the trade of praise. 30
 Thy follies such! the hard world mark'd them well!
 Were they more wise, the Proud who never fell?
 Rest, injur'd shade! the poor man's grateful prayer
 On heaven-ward wing thy wounded soul shall bear.
As oft at twilight gloom thy grave I pass, 35
 And sit me down upon its recent grass,
 With introverted eye I contemplate
 Similitude of soul, perhaps of—Fate!
 To me hath Heaven with bounteous hand assign'd
 Energic Reason and a shaping mind, 40
 The daring ken of Truth, the Patriot's part,
 And Pity's sigh, that breathes the gentle heart—
 Sloth-jaundic'd all! and from my graspless hand
 Drop Friendship's precious pearls, like hour-glass sand.
 I weep, yet stoop not! the faint anguish flows, 45
 A dreamy pang in Morning's feverous doze.
Is this piled earth our Being's passless mound?
 Tell me, cold grave! is Death with poppies crown'd?
 [78]Tired Sentinel! mid fitful starts I nod,
 And fain would sleep, though pillowed on a clod! 50

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[76:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. Four MS. versions are extant, (1) in Letter to Southey, Nov. [6], 1794 (Letters of S. T. C., 1895, i. 98, 99): (2) in letter to George Coleridge, Nov. 6, 1794: (3) in the Estlin copy-book: (4) in the MS. 4o. The Friend was the Rev. Fulwood Smerdon, vicar of Ottery St. Mary, who died in August 1794.

LINENOTES:

Title] On the Death of a Friend who died of a Frenzy Fever brought on by anxiety MS. E.

[1]

——! thy grave MS. Letter to R. S.: Smerdon! thy grave MS. Letter to G. C.

[3]

early] earliest MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E.

[5]

We] He MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E, MS. 4o, 1796.

[7]

will] shall MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E.

[8]

And on he goes MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E, 1796: Onward we move 1803.

[9]

his fond heart MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E, 1796.

[11]

quick stamps MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E, MS. 4o.

[12]

threaten round MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C.

[17]

fierce-eyed] frantic MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E erased [See Lamb's Letter to Coleridge, June 10, 1796].

[19]

squatting] couching MS Letter to G. C., MS. E [See Lamb's Letter, June 10, 1796].

[23]

cheer] cheers MS. E.

[25]

firmer] generous MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C.: manly MS. E.

[29]

roll'd] prowl'd MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E.

[33-4]
the poor man's prayer of praise
 On heavenward wing thy wounded soul shall raise.

1796.

[35]

As oft in Fancy's thought MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C.

[39]

bounteous] liberal MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E.

[41]

ken] soul MS. Letter to R. S.

[46]

feverous] feverish all MSS. and Eds. 1796-1829.

[47]

this] that MS. Letters to R. S. and G. C., MS. E. passless] hapless Letter to G. C.

[49]

Sentinel] Centinel all MSS. and Eds. 1796-1829. mid] with Letters to R. S. and G. C.

Below l. 50 the date (November 1794) is affixed in 1796, 1797, and 1803.

TO A FRIEND[78:1]

[Charles Lamb]

TOGETHER WITH AN UNFINISHED POEM

Thus far my scanty brain hath built the rhyme
 Elaborate and swelling: yet the heart
 Not owns it. From thy spirit-breathing powers
 I ask not now, my friend! the aiding verse,
 Tedious to thee, and from thy anxious thought 5
 Of dissonant mood. In fancy (well I know)
 From business wandering far and local cares,
 Thou creepest round a dear-lov'd Sister's bed
 With noiseless step, and watchest the faint look,
 Soothing each pang with fond solicitude, 10
 And tenderest tones medicinal of love.
 I too a Sister had, an only Sister—
 She lov'd me dearly, and I doted on her!
 To her I pour'd forth all my puny sorrows
 (As a sick Patient in a Nurse's arms) 15
 And of the heart those hidden maladies
 That e'en from Friendship's eye will shrink asham'd.
 [79]O! I have wak'd at midnight, and have wept,
 Because she was not!—Cheerily, dear Charles!
 Thou thy best friend shalt cherish many a year: 20
 Such warm presages feel I of high Hope.
 For not uninterested the dear Maid
 I've view'd—her soul affectionate yet wise,
 Her polish'd wit as mild as lambent glories
 That play around a sainted infant's head. 25
 He knows (the Spirit that in secret sees,
 Of whose omniscient and all-spreading Love
 Aught to implore[79:1] were impotence of mind)
 That my mute thoughts are sad before his throne,
 Prepar'd, when he his healing ray vouchsafes, 30
 Thanksgiving to pour forth with lifted heart,
 And praise Him Gracious with a Brother's Joy!

1794.

FOOTNOTES:

[78:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, and, again, in 1844. Lines 12-19 ('I too a sister . . . Because she was not') are published in 1834 (i. 35) under the heading 'The Same', i. e. the same as the preceding poem, 'On seeing a Youth affectionately welcomed by a Sister.' The date, December 1794, affixed in 1797 and 1803, is correct. The poem was sent in a letter from Coleridge to Southey, dated December 1794. (Letters of S. T. C., 1895, i. 128.) The 'Unfinished Poem' was, certainly, Religious Musings, begun on Christmas Eve, 1794. The text is that of 1844.