[94:2] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxiv. In the, &c. 1796: In the, &c. 1797.

[17]

Like snowdrop opening to the solar ray, 1796.

[19]

'heard the silence of my thought' 1797, 1803.

[26]

to lift] uplift 1797, 1803.

Below l. 45 July 1795 1797, 1803.

THE HOUR WHEN WE SHALL MEET AGAIN[96:1]

(Composed during Illness, and in Absence.)

Dim Hour! that sleep'st on pillowing clouds afar,
 O rise and yoke the Turtles to thy car!
 Bend o'er the traces, blame each lingering Dove,
 And give me to the bosom of my Love!
 My gentle Love, caressing and carest, 5
 With heaving heart shall cradle me to rest!
 Shed the warm tear-drop from her smiling eyes,
 Lull with fond woe, and medicine me with sighs!
 While finely-flushing float her kisses meek,
 Like melted rubies, o'er my pallid cheek. 10
 Chill'd by the night, the drooping Rose of May
 Mourns the long absence of the lovely Day;
 Young Day returning at her promis'd hour
 Weeps o'er the sorrows of her favourite Flower;
 Weeps the soft dew, the balmy gale she sighs, 15
 And darts a trembling lustre from her eyes.
 New life and joy th' expanding flow'ret feels:
 His pitying Mistress mourns, and mourning heals!

? 1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[96:1] First published in The Watchman, No. III, March 17, 1796 (signed C.): included in 1797, 1803, 1844, and 1852. It was first reprinted, after 1803, in Literary Remains, 1836, i. 43, under 'the sportive title "Darwiniana", on the supposition that it was written' in half-mockery of Darwin's style with its dulcia vitia. (See 1852, Notes, p. 885.)

LINENOTES:

Title] Darwiniana. The Hour, &c. L. R., 1844: Composed during illness and absence 1852.

[9-10]

om. 1803.

[14]

her] the Lit. Rem., 1844, 1852.

[17]

New] Now Watchman.

LINES[96:2]

WRITTEN AT SHURTON BARS, NEAR BRIDGEWATER, SEPTEMBER
1795, IN ANSWER TO A LETTER FROM BRISTOL

Good verse most good, and bad verse then seems better
 Receiv'd from absent friend by way of Letter.
 For what so sweet can labour'd lays impart
 As one rude rhyme warm from a friendly heart?—Anon.
[97]Nor travels my meandering eye
 The starry wilderness on high;
 Nor now with curious sight
 I mark the glow-worm, as I pass,
 Move with 'green radiance'[97:1] through the grass, 5
 An emerald of light.
O ever present to my view!
 My wafted spirit is with you,
 And soothes your boding fears:
 I see you all oppressed with gloom 10
 Sit lonely in that cheerless room—
 Ah me! You are in tears!
Belovéd Woman! did you fly
 Chill'd Friendship's dark disliking eye,
 Or Mirth's untimely din? 15
 With cruel weight these trifles press
 A temper sore with tenderness,
 When aches the void within.
But why with sable wand unblessed
 Should Fancy rouse within my breast 20
 Dim-visag'd shapes of Dread?
 Untenanting its beauteous clay
 My Sara's soul has wing'd its way,
 And hovers round my head!
[98]I felt it prompt the tender Dream, 25
 When slowly sank the day's last gleam;
 You rous'd each gentler sense,
 As sighing o'er the Blossom's bloom
 Meek Evening wakes its soft perfume
 With viewless influence. 30
And hark, my Love! The sea-breeze moans
 Through yon reft house! O'er rolling stones
 In bold ambitious sweep
 The onward-surging tides supply
 The silence of the cloudless sky 35
 With mimic thunders deep.
Dark reddening from the channell'd Isle[98:1]
 (Where stands one solitary pile
 Unslated by the blast)
 The Watchfire, like a sullen star 40
 Twinkles to many a dozing Tar
 Rude cradled on the mast.
Even there—beneath that light-house tower—
 In the tumultuous evil hour
 Ere Peace with Sara came, 45
 Time was, I should have thought it sweet
 To count the echoings of my feet,
 And watch the storm-vex'd flame.
And there in black soul-jaundic'd fit
 A sad gloom-pamper'd Man to sit, 50
 And listen to the roar:
 When mountain surges bellowing deep
 With an uncouth monster-leap
 Plung'd foaming on the shore.
Then by the lightning's blaze to mark 55
 Some toiling tempest-shatter'd bark;
 Her vain distress-guns hear;
 And when a second sheet of light
 Flash'd o'er the blackness of the night—
 To see no vessel there! 60
But Fancy now more gaily sings;
 Or if awhile she droop her wings,
 As skylarks 'mid the corn,
 [99]On summer fields she grounds her breast:
 The oblivious poppy o'er her nest 65
 Nods, till returning morn.
O mark those smiling tears, that swell
 The open'd rose! From heaven they fell,
 And with the sun-beam blend.
 Blest visitations from above, 70
 Such are the tender woes of Love
 Fostering the heart they bend!
When stormy Midnight howling round
 Beats on our roof with clattering sound,
 To me your arms you'll stretch: 75
 Great God! you'll say—To us so kind,
 O shelter from this loud bleak wind
 The houseless, friendless wretch!
The tears that tremble down your cheek,
 Shall bathe my kisses chaste and meek 80
 In Pity's dew divine;
 And from your heart the sighs that steal
 Shall make your rising bosom feel
 The answering swell of mine!
How oft, my Love! with shapings sweet 85
 I paint the moment, we shall meet!
 With eager speed I dart—
 I seize you in the vacant air,
 And fancy, with a husband's care
 I press you to my heart! 90
'Tis said, in Summer's evening hour
 Flashes the golden-colour'd flower
 A fair electric flame:[99:1]
 [100]And so shall flash my love-charg'd eye
 When all the heart's big ecstasy 95
 Shoots rapid through the frame!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[96:2] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[97:1] The expression 'green radiance' is borrowed from Mr. Wordsworth, a Poet whose versification is occasionally harsh and his diction too frequently obscure; but whom I deem unrivalled among the writers of the present day in manly sentiment, novel imagery, and vivid colouring. Note, 1796, p. 185: Footnote, 1797, p. 88.

[The phrase 'green radiance' occurs in An Evening Walk, ll. 264-8, first published in 1793, and reprinted in 1820. In 1836 the lines were omitted.

Oft has she taught them on her lap to play
 Delighted with the glow-worm's harmless ray,
 Toss'd light from hand to hand; while on the ground
 Small circles of green radiance gleam around.]

[98:1] The Holmes, in the Bristol Channel.

[99:1] Light from plants. In Sweden a very curious phenomenon has been observed on certain flowers, by M. Haggern, lecturer in natural history. One evening he perceived a faint flash of light repeatedly dart from a marigold. Surprised at such an uncommon appearance, he resolved to examine it with attention; and, to be assured it was no deception of the eye, he placed a man near him, with orders to make a signal at the moment when he observed the light. They both saw it constantly at the same moment.

The light was most brilliant on marigolds of an orange or flame colour; but scarcely visible on pale ones. The flash was frequently seen on the same flower two or three times in quick succession; but more commonly at intervals of several minutes; and when several flowers in the same place emitted their light together, it could be observed at a considerable distance.

This phenomenon was remarked in the months of July and August at sun-set, and for half an hour when the atmosphere was clear; but after a rainy day, or when the air was loaded with vapours nothing of it was seen.

The following flowers emitted flashes, more or less vivid, in this order:—

1. The marigold, galendula [sic] officinalis.
2. Monk's-hood, tropaelum [sic] majus.
3. The orange-lily, lilium bulbiferum.
4. The Indian pink, tagetes patula et erecta.

From the rapidity of the flash, and other circumstances, it may be conjectured that there is something of electricity in this phenomenon. Notes to Poems, 1796. Note 13, pp. 186, 188.

In 1797 the above was printed as a footnote on pp. 93, 94. In 1803 the last stanza, lines 91-96, was omitted, and, of course, the note disappeared. In 1828, 1829, and 1834 the last stanza was replaced but the note was not reprinted.

LINENOTES:

Title] Epistle I. Lines written, &c. The motto is printed on the reverse of the half-title 'Poetical Epistles' [pp. 109, 110]. 1796: Ode to Sara, written at Shurton Bars, &c. 1797, 1803. The motto is omitted in 1797, 1803: The motto is prefixed to the poem in 1828, 1829, and 1834. In 1797 and 1803 a note is appended to the title:—Note. The first stanza alludes to a Passage in the Letter. [The allusions to a 'Passage in the Letter' must surely be contained not in the first but in the second and third stanzas. The reference is, no doubt, to the alienation from Southey, which must have led to a difference of feeling between the two sisters Sarah and Edith Fricker.]

[26]

sank] sunk 1796-1829.

[33]

With broad impetuous 1797, 1803.

[34]

fast-encroaching 1797, 1803.

[48]

storm-vex'd] troubled 1797, 1803.

[49]

black and jaundic'd fit 1797.

THE EOLIAN HARP[100:1]

COMPOSED AT CLEVEDON, SOMERSETSHIRE

My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclined
 Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is
 To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o'ergrown
 With white-flower'd Jasmin, and the broad-leav'd Myrtle,
 (Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love!) 5
 And watch the clouds, that late were rich with light,
 Slow saddening round, and mark the star of eve
 Serenely brilliant (such should Wisdom be)
 Shine opposite! How exquisite the scents
 Snatch'd from yon bean-field! and the world so hush'd! 10
 The stilly murmur of the distant Sea
 Tells us of silence.
And that simplest Lute,
 Placed length-ways in the clasping casement, hark!
 [101]How by the desultory breeze caress'd,
 Like some coy maid half yielding to her lover, 15
 It pours such sweet upbraiding, as must needs
 Tempt to repeat the wrong! And now, its strings
 Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes
 Over delicious surges sink and rise,
 Such a soft floating witchery of sound 20
 As twilight Elfins make, when they at eve
 Voyage on gentle gales from Fairy-Land,
 Where Melodies round honey-dropping flowers,
 Footless and wild, like birds of Paradise,
 Nor pause, nor perch, hovering on untam'd wing! 25
 O! the one Life within us and abroad,
 Which meets all motion and becomes its soul,
 A light in sound, a sound-like power in light,
 Rhythm in all thought, and joyance every where—
 Methinks, it should have been impossible 30
 Not to love all things in a world so fill'd;
 Where the breeze warbles, and the mute still air
 Is Music slumbering on her instrument.
And thus, my Love! as on the midway slope
 Of yonder hill I stretch my limbs at noon, 35
 Whilst through my half-closed eye-lids I behold
 The sunbeams dance, like diamonds, on the main,
 And tranquil muse upon tranquillity;
 Full many a thought uncall'd and undetain'd,
 And many idle flitting phantasies, 40
 [102]Traverse my indolent and passive brain,
 As wild and various as the random gales
 That swell and flutter on this subject Lute!
And what if all of animated nature
 Be but organic Harps diversely fram'd, 45
 That tremble into thought, as o'er them sweeps
 Plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze,
 At once the Soul of each, and God of all?
But thy more serious eye a mild reproof
 Darts, O belovéd Woman! nor such thoughts 50
 Dim and unhallow'd dost thou not reject,
 And biddest me walk humbly with my God.
 Meek Daughter in the family of Christ!
 Well hast thou said and holily disprais'd
 These shapings of the unregenerate mind; 55
 Bubbles that glitter as they rise and break
 On vain Philosophy's aye-babbling spring.
 For never guiltless may I speak of him,
 The Incomprehensible! save when with awe
 I praise him, and with Faith that inly feels;[102:1] 60
 Who with his saving mercies healéd me,
 A sinful and most miserable man,
 Wilder'd and dark, and gave me to possess
 Peace, and this Cot, and thee, heart-honour'd Maid!

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[100:1] First published in 1796: included in 1797, 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[102:1] L'athée n'est point à mes yeux un faux esprit; je puis vivre avec lui aussi bien et mieux qu'avec le dévot, car il raisonne davantage, mais il lui manque un sens, et mon ame ne se fond point entièrement avec la sienne: il est froid au spectacle le plus ravissant, et il cherche un syllogisme lorsque je rends une [un 1797, 1803] action de grace. 'Appel a l'impartiale postérité', par la Citoyenne Roland, troisième partie, p. 67. Notes to Poems. Note 10, 1796, p. 183. The above was printed as a footnote to p. 99, 1797, and to p. 132, 1803.

LINENOTES:

Title] Effusion xxxv. Composed August 20th, 1795, At Clevedon, Somersetshire 1796. Composed at Clevedon Somersetshire 1797, 1803: The Eolian Harp. Composed, &c. S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[5]

om. 1803.

[8]

om. 1803.

[11]

Hark! the still murmur 1803.

[12]

And th' Eolian Lute, 1803.

[13]

om. 1803.

[16]

upbraiding] upbraidings 1796, 1797, 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1817.

Lines 21-33 are om. in 1803, and the text reads:

Such a soft floating witchery of sound—
 Methinks, it should have been impossible
 Not to love all things in a World like this,
 Where e'en the Breezes of the simple Air
 Possess the power and Spirit of Melody!
 And thus, my Love, &c.

26-33 are not in 1796, 1797. In Sibylline Leaves, for lines 26-33 of the text, four lines are inserted:

Methinks it should have been impossible
 Not to love all things in a world like this,
 Where even the breezes, and the common air,
 Contain the power and spirit of Harmony.

Lines 26-33 were first included in the text in 1828, and reappeared in 1829 and 1834. They are supplied in the Errata, pp. [xi, xii], of Sibylline Leaves, with a single variant (l. 33): Is Music slumbering on its instrument.

[44]

And] Or 1796, 1797, 1803.

[64]

dear honoured Maid 1893.

TO THE AUTHOR OF POEMS[102:2]

[Joseph Cottle]

PUBLISHED ANONYMOUSLY AT BRISTOL IN SEPTEMBER 1795

Unboastful Bard! whose verse concise yet clear
 Tunes to smooth melody unconquer'd sense,
 [103]May your fame fadeless live, as 'never-sere'
 The Ivy wreathes yon Oak, whose broad defence
 Embowers me from Noon's sultry influence! 5
 For, like that nameless Rivulet stealing by,
 Your modest verse to musing Quiet dear
 Is rich with tints heaven-borrow'd: the charm'd eye
 Shall gaze undazzled there, and love the soften'd sky.
Circling the base of the Poetic mount 10
 A stream there is, which rolls in lazy flow
 Its coal-black waters from Oblivion's fount:
 The vapour-poison'd Birds, that fly too low,
 Fall with dead swoop, and to the bottom go.
 Escaped that heavy stream on pinion fleet 15
 Beneath the Mountain's lofty-frowning brow,
 Ere aught of perilous ascent you meet,
 A mead of mildest charm delays th' unlabouring feet.
Not there the cloud-climb'd rock, sublime and vast,
 That like some giant king, o'er-glooms the hill; 20
 Nor there the Pine-grove to the midnight blast
 Makes solemn music! But th' unceasing rill
 To the soft Wren or Lark's descending trill
 Murmurs sweet undersong 'mid jasmin bowers.
 In this same pleasant meadow, at your will 25
 I ween, you wander'd—there collecting flowers
 Of sober tint, and herbs of med'cinable powers!
There for the monarch-murder'd Soldier's tomb
 You wove th' unfinish'd[103:1] wreath of saddest hues;
 And to that holier[103:2] chaplet added bloom 30
 Besprinkling it with Jordan's cleansing dews.
 But lo your Henderson[103:3] awakes the Muse——
 His Spirit beckon'd from the mountain's height!
 You left the plain and soar'd mid richer views!
 [104]So Nature mourn'd when sunk the First Day's light, 35
 With stars, unseen before, spangling her robe of night!
Still soar, my Friend, those richer views among,
 Strong, rapid, fervent, flashing Fancy's beam!
 Virtue and Truth shall love your gentler song;
 But Poesy demands th' impassion'd theme: 40
 Waked by Heaven's silent dews at Eve's mild gleam
 What balmy sweets Pomona breathes around!
 But if the vext air rush a stormy stream
 Or Autumn's shrill gust moan in plaintive sound,
 With fruits and flowers she loads the tempest-honor'd ground.

1795.

FOOTNOTES:

[102:2] First published in 1796: included in 1797 (Supplement), 1803, and 1852.

'The first in order of the verses which I have thus endeavoured to reprieve from immediate oblivion was originally addressed "To the Author of Poems published anonymously at Bristol". A second edition of these poems has lately appeared with the Author's name prefixed: and I could not refuse myself the gratification of seeing the name of that man among my poems without whose kindness they would probably have remained unpublished; and to whom I know myself greatly and variously obliged, as a Poet, a man, and a Christian.' 'Advertisement' to Supplement, 1797, pp. 243, 244.

[103:1] 'War,' a Fragment.

[103:2] 'John Baptist,' a poem.

[103:3] 'Monody on John Henderson.'

LINENOTES:

Title] Epistle iv. To the Author, &c. 1796: Lines to Joseph Cottle 1797: To the Author, &c., with footnote, 'Mr. Joseph Cottle' 1803.

[1]

Unboastful Bard] My honor'd friend 1797.

[35]

sunk] sank 1797.

THE SILVER THIMBLE[104:1]

THE PRODUCTION OF A YOUNG LADY, ADDRESSED TO THE
AUTHOR OF THE POEMS ALLUDED TO IN THE PRECEDING EPISTLE

She had lost her Silver Thimble, and her complaint being accidentally overheard by him, her Friend, he immediately sent her four others to take her choice of.

As oft mine eye with careless glance
 Has gallop'd thro' some old romance,
 Of speaking Birds and Steeds with wings,
 Giants and Dwarfs, and Fiends and Kings;
 Beyond the rest with more attentive care 5
 I've lov'd to read of elfin-favour'd Fair——
 How if she long'd for aught beneath the sky
 And suffer'd to escape one votive sigh,
 Wafted along on viewless pinions aery
 It laid itself obsequious at her feet: 10
 Such things, I thought, one might not hope to meet
 Save in the dear delicious land of Faery!
 But now (by proof I know it well)
 There's still some peril in free wishing——
 Politeness is a licensed spell, 15
 And you, dear Sir! the Arch-magician.
 [105]You much perplex'd me by the various set:
 They were indeed an elegant quartette!
 My mind went to and fro, and waver'd long;
 At length I've chosen (Samuel thinks me wrong) 20
 That, around whose azure rim
 Silver figures seem to swim,
 Like fleece-white clouds, that on the skiey Blue,
 Waked by no breeze, the self-same shapes retain;
 Or ocean-Nymphs with limbs of snowy hue 25
 Slow-floating o'er the calm cerulean plain.
Just such a one, mon cher ami,
 (The finger shield of industry)
 Th' inventive Gods, I deem, to Pallas gave
 What time the vain Arachne, madly brave, 30
 Challeng'd the blue-eyed Virgin of the sky
 A duel in embroider'd work to try.
 And hence the thimbled Finger of grave Pallas
 To th' erring Needle's point was more than callous.
 But ah the poor Arachne! She unarm'd 35
 Blundering thro' hasty eagerness, alarm'd
 With all a Rival's hopes, a Mortal's fears,
 Still miss'd the stitch, and stain'd the web with tears.
 Unnumber'd punctures small yet sore
 Full fretfully the maiden bore, 40
 Till she her lily finger found
 Crimson'd with many a tiny wound;
 And to her eyes, suffus'd with watery woe,
 Her flower-embroider'd web danc'd dim, I wist,
 Like blossom'd shrubs in a quick-moving mist: 45
 Till vanquish'd the despairing Maid sunk low.
O Bard! whom sure no common Muse inspires,
 I heard your Verse that glows with vestal fires!
 And I from unwatch'd needle's erring point
 Had surely suffer'd on each finger-joint 50
 Those wounds, which erst did poor Arachne meet;
 While he, the much-lov'd Object of my choice
 (My bosom thrilling with enthusiast heat),
 Pour'd on mine ear with deep impressive voice,
 How the great Prophet of the Desart stood 55
 And preach'd of Penitence by Jordan's Flood;
 On War; or else the legendary lays
 In simplest measures hymn'd to Alla's praise;
 [106]Or what the Bard from his heart's inmost stores
 O'er his Friend's grave in loftier numbers pours: 60
 Yes, Bard polite! you but obey'd the laws
 Of Justice, when the thimble you had sent;
 What wounds your thought-bewildering Muse might cause
 'Tis well your finger-shielding gifts prevent.

Sara.

1795.

FOOTNOTES: