I love, and he loves me again,
Yet dare I not tell who:
For if the nymphs should know my swain,
I fear they'd love him too.
Yet while my joy's unknown, 5
Its rosy buds are but half-blown:
What no one with me shares, seems scarce my own.
[1119]I'll tell, that if they be not glad,
They yet may envy me:
But then if I grow jealous mad, 10
And of them pitied be,
'Twould vex me worse than scorn!
And yet it cannot be forborn,
Unless my heart would like my thoughts be torn.
He is, if they can find him, fair 15
And fresh, and fragrant too;
As after rain the summer air,
And looks as lilies do,
That are this morning blown!
Yet, yet I doubt, he is not known, 20
Yet, yet I fear to have him fully shewn.
But he hath eyes so large, and bright.
Which none can see, and doubt
That Love might thence his torches light
Tho' Hate had put them out! 25
But then to raise my fears,
His voice—what maid so ever hears
Will be my rival, tho' she have but ears.
I'll tell no more! yet I love him,
And ho loves me; yet so, 30
That never one low wish did dim
Our love's pure light, I know—
In each so free from blame,
That both of us would gain new fame,
If love's strong fears would let me tell his name! 35
First published in The Courier, September 21, 1811; included in the
supplementary sheet to Sibylline Leaves; reprinted in Essays on His
Own Times, iii. 995, 996, and in the Appendix to P. W., 1863. It was
first pointed out by W. E. Henley that 'Mutual Passion' is an adaptation
of 'A Nymph's Passion', No. V of Ben Jonson's Underwoods.
8
Underwoods
No. VI. The Hour-Glass.
Consider this small dust, here in the glass
By atoms moved:
Could you believe that this the body was
Of one that loved;
And in his mistress' flame playing like a fly, 5
Was turned to cinders by her eye:
Yes; and in death, as life unblest,
To have 't exprest,
Even ashes of lovers find no rest.
The Hour-Glass
O think, fair maid! these sands that pass
In slender threads adown this glass,
Were once the body of some swain,
Who lov'd too well and lov'd in vain,
And let one soft sigh heave thy breast, 5
That not in life alone unblest
E'en lovers' ashes find no rest.
First published in The Courier, August 30, 1811; included in Essays
on His Own Times, iii. 994. Now collected for the first time.
The original is a translation of a Latin Epigram, 'Horologium Pulvereum,
Tumulus Alcippi,' by Girolamo Amaltei.
9
The Poetaster. Act I, Scene 1.
O my Tibullus,
Let us not blame him; for against such chances
The heartiest strife of virtue is not proof.
We may read constancy and fortitude
To other souls; but had ourselves been struck 5
With the like planet, had our loves, like his,
Been ravished from us by injurious death,
And in the height and heat of our best days,
It would have cracked our sinews, shrunk our veins,
And made our very heart-strings jar like his. 10
Let us not blame him: for against such chances
The heartiest strife of manhood is scarce proof.
We may read constancy and fortitude
To other souls—but had ourselves been struck
Even in the height and heat of our keen wishing,
It might have made our heart-strings jar, like his.
First published as a quotation in the Historie and Gestes of Maxilian
contributed to Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, January, 1822.
Reprinted as Fragment No. 59, P. W., 1893, p. 460.
10
SAMUEL DANIEL
Epistle To Sir Thomas Egerton, Knight
| Stanza 5 |
Must there be still some discord mix'd among,
The harmony of men; whose mood accords
Best with contention, tun'd t' a note of wrong?
That when war fails, peace must make war with words,
And b' armed unto destruction ev'n as strong 5
As were in ages past our civil swords:
Making as deep, although unbleeding wounds;
That when as fury fails, wisdom confounds. |
| |
| 14 |
Seeing ev'n injustice may be regular;
And no proportion can there be betwixt 10
Our actions, which in endless motion are,
And th' ordinances, which are always fix'd:
Ten thousand laws more cannot reach so far
But malice goes beyond, or lives immix'd
So close with goodness, as it ever will 15
Corrupt, disguise, or counterfeit it still. |
| |
| 15 |
And therefore did those glorious monarchs (who
Divide with God the style of majesty, &c. |
|
| Stanza 5 |
Must there be still some discord mix'd among
The harmony of men; whose mood accords
Best with contention tun'd to notes of wrong?
That when War fails, Peace must make war with words,
With words unto destruction arm'd more strong 5
Than ever were our foreign Foeman's swords;
Making as deep, tho' not yet bleeding wounds?
What War left scarless, Calumny confounds. |
| |
| 14 |
Truth lies entrapp'd where Cunning finds no bar:
Since no proportion can there be betwixt 10
Our actions, which in endless motion are,
And ordinances, which are always fixt.
Ten thousand Laws more cannot reach so far
But Malice goes beyond, or lives commixt
So close with Goodness, that, it ever will 15
Corrupt, disguise, or counterfeit it still. |
| |
| 15 |
And therefore would our glorious Alfred, who
Join'd with the King's the good man's Majesty,
Not leave Law's labyrinth without a clue—
Gave to deep skill its just authority,— 20 |
| |
| |
* * * * * |
| |
| |
But the last Judgement (this his Jury's plan)—
Left to the natural sense of Work-day Man |
Adapted from an elder Poet.
Motto to The Friend, Essay xiii, 1818, i. 149; 1850, i. 113.
Coleridge's alteration of, and addition to the text of Daniel's poem
were first pointed out in an edition of The Friend, issued by H. N.
Coleridge in 1837.
11
Musophilus
Stanza cxlvii.
Who will not grant, and therefore this observe,
No state stands sure, but on the grounds of right,
Of virtue, knowledge, judgment to preserve,
And all the powers of learning requisite?
Though other shifts a present turn may serve,
Yet in the trial they will weigh too light.
Blind is that soul which from this truth can swerve
No state stands sure, &c.
Motto to Essay xvi of The Friend, 1818, i. 190; 1850, i. 145. The
alteration was first noted in 1837.
12
Stanzas xxvii, xxix, xxx.
Although the stronger constitution shall
Wear out th' infection of distemper'd days,
And come with glory to out-live this fall,
Recov'ring of another spring of praise, &c.
For these lines are the veins and arteries
And undecaying life-strings of those hearts,
That still shall pant, and still shall exercise
The motion, spir't and nature both imparts,
And shall with those alive so sympathize,
As nourish'd with stern powers, enjoy their parts.
O blessed letters! that combine in one
All ages past, and make one live with all:
By you we do confer with who are gone,
And the dead-living unto council call:
By you the unborn shall have communion
Of what we feel, and what does us befall.
O blessed letters, &c.
Since Writings are the Veins, the Arteries,
And undecaying Life-strings of those Hearts,
They still shall pant and still shall exercise
Their mightiest powers when Nature none imparts:
And the strong constitution of their Praise
Wear out the infection of distemper'd days
Motto to 'The Landing-Place', Essay i, The Friend, 1818, i. 215;
1850, 165. The piecing together of the lines in the second stanza of the
motto was first noted by J. D. Campbell, in The Athenæum, art.
'Coleridge's Quotations,' Aug. 20, 1892.
13
CHRISTOPHER HARVEY
The Synagogue
THE NATIVITY OR CHRISTMAS DAY.
Unfold thy face, unmask thy ray,
Shine forth, bright sun, double the day;
Let no malignant misty fume
Nor foggy vapour, once presume
To interpose thy perfect sights, 5
This day which makes us use thy lights
For ever better that we could
That blessed object once behold,
Which is both the circumference
And centre of all excellence, &c. 10
Substitute the following for the fifth to the eighth line.
To sheath or blunt one happy ray,
That wins new splendour from the day,—
This day that gives thee power to rise,
And shine on hearts as well as eyes:
This birth-day of all souls, when first
On eyes of flesh and blood did burst
That primal great lucific light,
That rays to thee, to us gave sight.
[S. T. C.]
First published in 'Notes on Harvey's Synagogue', Notes and Lectures,
&c., 1849, ii. 263. Now first collected.
Coleridge's notes to The Synagogue, including these original lines,
were reprinted in the notes to The Complete Poems of Christopher
Harvey, 1874, p. 47.
14
MARK AKENSIDE
Blank Verse Inscriptions
No. III.
[For Elegy Imitated from one of Akenside's 'Blank Verse Inscriptions',
vide ante, p. 69.]
Whoe'er thou art whose path in Summer lies
Through yonder village, turn thee where the Grove
Of branching oaks a rural palace old
Embosoms—there dwells Albert, generous lord
Of all the harvest round. And onward thence 5
A low plain chapel fronts the morning light
Fast by a silent rivulet. Humbly walk,
O stranger, o'er the consecrated ground;
And on that verdant Hillock, which thou seest
Beset with osiers, let thy pious hand 10
Sprinkle fresh water from the brook, and strew
Sweet-smelling flowers—for there doth Edmund rest,
The learned shepherd; for each rural art
Famed, and for songs harmonious, and the woes
Of ill-requited love. The faithless pride 15
Of fair Matilda sank him to the grave
In manhood's prime. But soon did righteous Heaven
With tears, with sharp remorse, and pining care
Avenge her falsehood. Nor could all the gold
And nuptial pomp, which lured her plighted faith 20
From Edmund to a loftier husband's home,
Relieve her breaking heart, or turn aside
The strokes of death. Go, traveller, relate
The mournful story. Haply some fair maid
May hold it in remembrance, and be taught 25
That riches cannot pay for truth or love.
15
W. L. BOWLES
——I yet remain
To mourn the hours of youth (yet mourn in vain)
That fled neglected: wisely thou hast trod
The better path—and that high meed which God
Assign'd to virtue, tow'ring from the dust, 5
Shall wait thy rising, Spirit pure and just!
O God! how sweet it were to think, that all
Who silent mourn around this gloomy ball
Might hear the voice of joy;—but 'tis the will
Of man's great Author, that thro' good and ill 10
Calm he should hold his course, and so sustain
His varied lot of pleasure, toil and pain!
1793
['These lines,' which 'were found in Mr. Coleridge's handwriting in one
of the Prayer Books in the Chapel of Jesus College, Cambridge,' were
first published in Lit. Rem., 1836, i. 34. They were first collected
in P. W., 1885, i. 127. The first six lines are (see P. W., 1893, p.
474) taken from Bowles's elegy 'On the Death of Henry Headley'. J. D.
Campbell surmised that the last six lines 'practically belonged to the
same poem', but of this there is no evidence. The note of the elegy is a
lament for the 'untimely sorrow' which had befallen an innocent
sufferer, and the additional lines, which Coleridge composed or quoted,
moralized the theme.
Note. Bowles wrote, I, alas, remain (l. 1), and 'Ordain'd for virtue'
(l. 5).]
16
NAPOLEON
Then we may thank ourselves,
Who spell-bound by the magic name of Peace
Dream golden dreams. Go, warlike Britain, go,
For the grey olive-branch change thy green laurels:
Hang up thy rusty helmet, that the bee 5
May have a hive, or spider find a loom!
Instead of doubling drum and thrilling fife
Be lull'd in lady's lap with amorous flutes:
But for Napoleon, know, he'll scorn this calm:
The ruddy planet at his birth bore sway, 10
Sanguine adust his humour, and wild fire
His ruling element. Rage, revenge, and cunning
Make up the temper of this Captain's valour.
Adapted from an old Play.
First published in The Friend, 1818, ii. 115. In later editions the
word 'Adapted' was omitted. First collected in 1893.
J. D. Campbell (P. W., 1893, p. 473) suggests that the 'calm' was,
probably, the 'Peace of Amiens'.
APPENDIX VI
ORIGINALS OF TRANSLATIONS
A
[Vide ante, p. 307]
MILESISCHES MÄHRCHEN
Ein milesisches Mährchen, Adonide:
Unter heiligen Lorbeerwipfeln glänzte
Hoch auf rauschendem Vorgebirg ein Tempel.
Aus den Fluthen erhub, von Pan gesegnet,
In Gedüfte der Ferne sich ein Eiland. 5
Oft, in mondlicher Dämmrung, schwebt' ein Nachen
Vom Gestade des heerdenreichen Eilands,
Zur umwaldeten Bucht, wo sich ein Steinpfad
Zwischen Mirten zum Tempelhain emporwand.
Dort im Rosengebüsch, der Huldgöttinnen 10
Marmorgruppe geheiligt, fleht' oft einsam
Eine Priesterin, reizend wie Apelles
Seine Grazien malt, zum Sohn Cytherens,
Ihren Kallias freundlich zu umschweben
Und durch Wogen und Dunkel ihn zu leiten, 15
Bis der nächtliche Schiffer, wonneschauernd,
An den Busen ihr sank.
The German original of the translation was published in Poems, 1852,
Notes, pp. 387-9.
B
[Vide ante, p. 307]
SCHILLER
Der Epische Hexameter
Schwindelnd trägt er dich fort auf rastlos strömenden Wogen;
Hinter dir siehst du, du siehst vor dir nur Himmel und Meer.
Das Distichon
Im Hexameter steigt des Springquells flüssige Säule;
Im Pentameter drauf fällt sie melodisch herab.
See Poems, 1844, p. 372.
C
[Vide ante, p. 308]
STOLBERG
On A Cataract
Unsterblicher Jüngling!
Du strömest hervor
Aus der Felsenkluft.
Kein Sterblicher sah
Die Wiege des Starken; 5
Es hörte kein Ohr
Das Lallen des Edlen im sprudelnden Quell.
Dich kleidet die Sonne
In Strahlen des Ruhmes!
Sie malet mit Farben des himmlischen Bogens 10
Die schwebenden Wolken der stäubenden Fluth.
See Poems, 1844, pp. 371-2.
D
[Vide ante, p. 309]
STOLBERG
Bei Wilhelm Tells Geburtsstätte im Kanton Uri
Seht diese heilige Kapell!
Hier ward geboren Wilhelm Tell,
Hier wo der Altar Gottes steht
Stand seiner Eltern Ehebett!
Mit Mutterfreuden freute sich 5
Die liebe Mutter inniglich,
Die gedachte nicht an ihren Schmerz
Und hielt das Knäblein an ihr Herz.
Sie flehte Gott: er sei dein Knecht,
Sei stark und muthig und gerecht. 10
Gott aber dachte: ich thu' mehr
Durch ihn als durch ein ganzes Heer.
Er gab dem Knaben warmes Blut,
Des Rosses Kraft, des Adlers Muth,
Im Felsennacken freien Sinn, 15
Des Falken Aug' und Feuer drin!
Dem Worte sein' und der Natur
Vertraute Gott das Knäblein nur;
Wo sich der Felsenstrom ergeusst
Erhub sich früh des Helden Geist. 20
[1127]Das Ruder und die Gemsenjagd
Hatt' seine Glieder stark gemacht;
Er scherzte früh mit der Gefahr
Und wusste nicht wie gross er war.
Er wusste nicht dass seine Hand, 25
Durch Gott gestärkt, sein Vaterland
Erretten würde von der Schmach
Der Knechtschaft, deren Joch er brach.
Friedrich Leopold
Graf zu Stolberg,
1775
The German original is supplied in the Notes to P. W., 1893, pp. 618,
619.
E
[Vide ante, p. 310]
SCHILLER
Dithyrambe
Nimmer, das glaubt mir,
Erscheinen die Götter,
Nimmer allein.
Kaum dass ich Bacchus, den Lustigen, habe,
Kommt auch schon Amor, der lächelnde Knabe, 5
Phöbus, der Herrliche, findet sich ein!
Sie nahen, sie kommen—
Die Himmlischen alle,
Mit Göttern erfüllt sich
Die irdische Halle. 10
Sagt, wie bewirth' ich,
Der Erdegeborne,
Himmlischen Chor?
Schenket mir euer unsterbliches Leben,
Götter! Was kann euch der Sterbliche geben? 15
Hebet zu eurem Olymp mich empor.
Die Freude, sie wohnt nur
In Jupiters Saale;
O füllet mit Nektar,
O reicht mir die Schale! 20
Reich' ihm die Schale!
Schenke dem Dichter,
Hebe, nur ein!
Netz' ihm die Augen mit himmlischem Thaue,
Dass er den Styx, den verhassten, nicht schaue, 25
Einer der Unsern sich dünke zu seyn.
Sie rauschet, sie perlet,
Die himmlische Quelle:
Der Busen wird ruhig,
Das Auge wird helle. 30
The German original is printed in the Notes to P. W., 1893, p. 619.
F
[Vide ante, p. 311]
GOETHE
Wilhelm Meister, Bk. III, Cap. 1.—Sämmtliche Werke, 1860, iii, p.
194.
Kennst du das Land, wo die Citronen blühn,
Im dunkeln Laub die Goldorangen glühn,
Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht,
Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht
Dahin! Dahin 5
Möcht' ich mit dir, o mein Geliebter, ziehn.
G
[Vide ante, p. 311]
FRANÇOIS-ANTOINE-EUGÈNE DE PLANARD
'Batelier, dit Lisette'
Marie, opéra-comique en trois actes, 1826, p. 9.
Susette, assise dans la barque.
Batelier, dit Lisette,
Je voudrais passer l'eau,
Mais je suis bien pauvrette
Pour payer le bateau:
—Venez, venez, toujours . . . 5
Et vogue la nacelle
Qui porte mes amours!
(Ils abordent. Lubin reste sur la rive à attacher sa barque.)
Susette, s'avancant en scène.
Je m'en vais chez mon père,
Dit Lisette à Colin.
—Eh bien! Crois-tu, ma chère, 10
Qu'il m'accorde ta main?
—Ah! répondit la belle,
Osez, osez toujours.
—Et vogue la nacelle
Qui porte mes amours! 15
Lubin et Susette
Après le mariage,
Toujours dans son bateau
Colin fut le plus sage
Des maris du hameau.
A sa chanson fidèle, 20
Il répète toujours:
Et vogue la nacelle
Qui porte mes amours!
H
[Vide ante, p. 313]
Des Knaben Wunderhorn
Wenn ich ein Vöglein wär
Und auch zwei Flüglein hätt',
Flög' ich zu dir;
Weil's aber nicht kann sein,
Weil's aber nicht kann sein, 5
Bleib' ich allhier.
Bin ich gleich weit von dir,
Bin ich doch im Schlaf bei dir
Und red' mit dir;
Wenn ich erwachen thu', 10
Wenn ich erwachen thu',
Bin ich allein.
Es vergeht keine Stund' in der Nacht
Da mein Herz nicht erwacht
Und an dich gedenkt. 15
Wie du mir viel tausendmal,
Wie du mir viel tausendmal,
Dein Herz geschenkt.
I
STOLBERG
Lied eines deutschen Knaben.—Gesammelte Werke, Hamburg, 1827, i. 42.
Mein Arm wird stark und gross mein Muth,
Gieb, Vater, mir ein Schwert!
Verachte nicht mein junges Blut;
Ich bin der Väter werth!
Ich finde fürder keine Ruh 5
Im weichen Knabenstand!
Ich stürb', O Vater, stolz, wie du,
Den Tod für's Vaterland!
Schon früh in meiner Kindheit war
Mein täglich Spiel der Krieg! 10
Im Bette träumt' ich nur Gefahr
Und Wunden nur und Sieg.
Mein Feldgeschrei erweckte mich
Aus mancher Türkenschlacht;
Noch jüngst ein Faustschlag, welchen ich 15
Dem Bassa zugedacht!
Da neulich unsrer Krieger Schaar
Auf dieser Strasse zog,
Und, wie ein Vogel, der Husar
Das Haus vorüberflog, 20
[1130]Da gaffte starr und freute sich
Der Knaben froher Schwarm:
Ich aber, Vater, härmte mich,
Und prüfte meinen Arm!
Mein Arm ist stark und gross mein Muth, 25
Gieb, Vater, mir ein Schwert!
Verachte nicht mein junges Blut;
Ich bin der Väter werth!
The German original is printed in the Notes to P. W., 1893, pp. 617,
618.
J
[Vide ante, p. 318]
LESSING
Sämmtliche Schriften, vol. i, p. 50, ed. Lachmann-Maltzahn, Leipzig,
1853.
Die Namen.
Ich fragte meine Schöne:
Wie soll mein Lied dich nennen?
Soll dich als Dorimana,
Als Galathee, als Chloris,
Als Lesbia, als Doris, 5
Die Welt der Enkel kennen?
Ach! Namen sind nur Töne;
Sprach meine holde Schöne,
Wähl' selbst. Du kannst mich Doris,
Und Galathee und Chloris 10
Und —— wie du willst mich nennen:
Nur nenne mich die deine.
The German original is printed in the Notes to P. W., 1893, pp. 619,
620.
K
[Vide ante, p. 327]
STOLBERG
Hymne an die Erde.
Erde, du Mutter zahlloser Kinder, Mutter und Amme!
Sei mir gegrüsst! Sei mir gesegnet im Feiergesange!
Sieh, O Mutter, hier lieg' ich an deinen schwellenden Brüsten!
Lieg', O Grüngelockte, von deinem wallenden Haupthaar
Sanft umsäuselt und sanft geküsst von thauenden Lüften! 5
Ach, du säuselst Wonne mir zu, und thauest mir Wehmuth
In das Herz, dass Wehmuth und Wonn' aus schmelzender Seele
Sich in Thränen und Dank und heiligen Liedern ergiessen!
Erde, du Mutter zahlloser Kinder, Mutter und Amme!
Schwester der allesfreuenden Sonne, des freundlichen Mondes 10
Und der strahlenden Stern', und flammenbeschweiften Kometen,
Eine der jüngsten Töchter der allgebärenden Schöpfung,
Immer blühendes Weib des segenträufelnden Himmels!
Sprich, O Erde, wie war dir als du am ersten der Tage
Deinen heiligen Schooss dem buhlenden Himmel enthülltest? 15
[1131]Dein Erröthen war die erste der Morgenröthen,
Als er im blendenden Bette von weichen schwellenden Wolken
Deine gürtende Binde mit siegender Stärke dir löste!
Schauer durchbebten die stille Natur und tausend und tausend
Leben keimten empor aus der mächtigen Liebesumarmung. 20
Freudig begrüssten die Fluthen des Meeres neuer Bewohner
Mannigfaltige Schaaren; es staunte der werdende Wallfisch
Ueber die steigenden Ströme die seiner Nasen entbrausten;
Junges Leben durchbrüllte die Auen, die Wälder, die Berge,
Irrte blökend im Thal, und sang in blühenden Stauden. 25
The German original is printed in the Notes to P. W., 1893, p. 615.
L
[Vide ante, p. 376]
FRIEDERIKE BRUN
Chamouny beym Sonnenaufgange
(Nach Klopstock.)
'Aus tiefem Schatten des schweigenden Tannenhains
Erblick' ich bebend dich, Scheitel der Ewigkeit,
Blendenden Gipfel, von dessen Höhe
Ahndend mein Geist ins Unendliche schwebet!
'Wer senkte den Pfeiler tief in der Erde Schooss, 5
Der, seit Jahrtausenden, fest deine Masse stützt?
Wer thürmte hoch in des Aethers Wölbung
Mächtig und kühn dein umstrahltes Antlitz?
'Wer goss Euch hoch aus des ewigen Winters Reich,
O Zackenströme, mit Donnergetös' herab? 10
Und wer gebietet laut mit der Allmacht Stimme:
"Hier sollen ruhen die starrenden Wogen"?
'Wer zeichnet dort dem Morgensterne die Bahn?
Wen kränzt mit Blüthen des ewigen Frostes Saum?
Wem tönt in schrecklichen Harmonieen, 15
Wilder Arveiron, dein Wogengetümmel?
'Jehovah! Jehovah! Kracht's im berstenden Eis:
Lawinendonner rollen's die Kluft hinab:
Jehovah Rauscht's in den hellen Wipfeln,
Flüstert's an rieselnden Silberbächen.' 20
See Poems, 1844, p. 572.
M
[Vide ante, p. 392]
Opere del Cavalier Giambattista Marino, with introduction by Giuseppe
Zirardini. Napoli, 1861, p. 550.
Alla sua Amica
Sonetto.