LINENOTES:
[1] Muse that late sang another's poignant pain MS.
S. T. C.
[3] In slowest steps the funeral steeds shall go MS. S. T.
C.
[4] Nodding their heads MS. S. T. C.
[5] each deadly weed MS. S. T. C.
[8] The] His MS. S. T. C.
[9] songs] song MS. S. T. C.
[15] issuing] hissing MS. S. T. C.
[16] pour] throw MS. S. T. C. steams] steam MS. S. T. C.
[18] thee] whom MS. S. T. C. Vine] Wine MS. S. T. C.
[19] who] that MS. S. T. C.
[21] various charms MS. S. T. C.
[23] extend] expand MS. S. T. C.
[25] How low the mighty sink MS. S. T. C.
[29] seiz'd] chear'd MS. S. T. C.
[30-1]
When from thy spout the stream did arching flow
As if, inspir'd
MS. S. T. C.
[33] the glad] Georgian MS. S. T. C.
[34] the swain] its form MS. S. T. C.
[35] Note. A parenthetical reflection of the Author's. MS.
O.
[38] wings] wing MS. S. T. C.
Maid of my Love, sweet Genevieve!
In Beauty's light you glide along:
[20]Your eye is like the Star of Eve,
And sweet your voice, as Seraph's song
Yet not your heavenly beauty gives 5
This heart with Passion soft to glow:
Within your soul a voice there lives!
It bids you hear the tale of Woe.
When sinking low the sufferer wan
Beholds no hand outstretch'd to save, 10
Fair, as the bosom of the Swan
That rises graceful o'er the wave,
I've seen your breast with pity heave,
And therefore love I you, sweet Genevieve!
1789-90.
FOOTNOTES:
LINENOTES:
Title] Sonnet iii. MS. O: Ode MS. E: A
Sonnet MS. O (c): Effusion xvii. 1796. The heading, Genevieve,
first appears in 1803.
[2] Thou glid'st along [so, too, in ll. 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 13, 14]
MS. O, MS. E, MS. O (c), C. I.
[4] Thy voice is lovely as the MS. E: Thy voice is soft, &c.
MS. O (c), C. I.
[8] It bids thee hear the tearful plaint of woe MS. E.
[10] no . . . save] no friendly hand that saves MS. E.
outstretch'd] stretcht out MS. O, MS. O (c), C. I.
[12] the wave] quick-rolling waves MS. E.
ON RECEIVING AN ACCOUNT THAT HIS ONLY
SISTER'S DEATH WAS INEVITABLE[20:1]
The tear which mourn'd a brother's fate scarce dry—
Pain after pain, and woe succeeding woe—
Is my heart destin'd for another blow?
O my sweet sister! and must thou too die?
Ah! how has Disappointment pour'd the tear 5
O'er infant Hope destroy'd by early frost!
How are ye gone, whom most my soul held dear!
Scarce had I lov'd you ere I mourn'd you lost;
Say, is this hollow eye, this heartless pain,
Fated to rove thro' Life's wide cheerless plain— 10
Nor father, brother, sister meet its ken—
My woes, my joys unshared! Ah! long ere then
On me thy icy dart, stern Death, be prov'd;—
Better to die, than live and not be lov'd!
1791.
FOOTNOTES:
LINENOTES:
[4] O my sweet sister must thou die MS. O.
[10] Fated] Destin'd MS. O.
[11] father] Mother MS. O.
ON SEEING A YOUTH AFFECTIONATELY WELCOMED BY A SISTER[21:1]
I too a sister had! too cruel Death!
How sad Remembrance bids my bosom heave!
Tranquil her soul, as sleeping Infant's breath;
Meek were her manners as a vernal Eve.
Knowledge, that frequent lifts the bloated mind, 5
Gave her the treasure of a lowly breast,
And Wit to venom'd Malice oft assign'd,
Dwelt in her bosom in a Turtle's nest.
Cease, busy Memory! cease to urge the dart;
Nor on my soul her love to me impress! 10
For oh I mourn in anguish—and my heart
Feels the keen pang, th' unutterable distress.
Yet wherefore grieve I that her sorrows cease,
For Life was misery, and the Grave is Peace!
1791.
FOOTNOTES:
A MATHEMATICAL PROBLEM[21:2]
If Pegasus will let thee only ride him,
Spurning my clumsy efforts to o'erstride him,
Some fresh expedient the Muse will try,
And walk on stilts, although she cannot fly.
To the Rev. George Coleridge
Dear Brother,
I have often been surprised that Mathematics, the
quintessence of Truth, should have found admirers so few and
so languid. Frequent consideration and minute scrutiny have
at length unravelled the cause; viz. that though Reason is
feasted, Imagination is starved; whilst Reason is luxuriating
in its proper Paradise, Imagination is wearily travelling on
a dreary desert. To assist Reason by the stimulus of
Imagination is the design of the following production. In the
execution of it much may be objectionable. The verse
(particularly in the introduction of the ode) may be accused
of unwarrantable liberties, but they are liberties equally
homogeneal with the exactness of Mathematical disquisition,
and the boldness of Pindaric daring. I have three strong
champions to defend me against the attacks of Criticism: the
Novelty, the Difficulty, and the Utility of the work. I may
justly plume myself that I first have drawn the nymph
Mathesis from the visionary caves of abstracted idea, and
caused her to unite with Harmony. The first-born of this
Union I now present to you; with interested motives
indeed—as I expect to receive in return the more valuable
offspring of your Muse.
Thine ever,
S. T. C.
[Christ's Hospital], March 31, 1791.
This is now—this was erst,
Proposition the first—and Problem the first.
I
On a given finite line
Which must no way incline;
To describe an equi—
—lateral Tri—
—A, N, G, L, E.[22:1] 5
Now let A. B.
Be the given line
Which must no way incline;
The great Mathematician
Makes this Requisition, 10
That we describe an Equi—
—lateral Tri—
—angle on it:
Aid us, Reason—aid us, Wit!
II
From the centre A. at the distance A. B. 15
Describe the circle B. C. D.
At the distance B. A. from B. the centre
The round A. C. E. to describe boldly venture.[22:2]
(Third postulate see.)
And from the point C. 20
In which the circles make a pother
Cutting and slashing one another,
Bid the straight lines a journeying go.
[23]C. A. C. B. those lines will show.
To the points, which by A. B. are reckon'd, 25
And postulate the second
For Authority ye know.
A. B. C.
Triumphant shall be
An Equilateral Triangle, 30
Not Peter Pindar carp, nor Zoilus can wrangle.
III
Because the point A. is the centre
Of the circular B. C. D.
And because the point B. is the centre
Of the circular A. C. E. 35
A. C. to A. B. and B. C. to B. A.
Harmoniously equal for ever must stay;
Then C. A. and B. C.
Both extend the kind hand
To the basis, A. B. 40
Unambitiously join'd in Equality's Band.
But to the same powers, when two powers are equal,
My mind forbodes the sequel;
My mind does some celestial impulse teach,
And equalises each to each. 45
Thus C. A. with B. C. strikes the same sure alliance,
That C. A. and B. C. had with A. B. before;
And in mutual affiance
None attempting to soar
Above another, 50
The unanimous three
C. A. and B. C. and A. B.
All are equal, each to his brother,
Preserving the balance of power so true:
Ah! the like would the proud Autocratrix[23:1] do! 55
At taxes impending not Britain would tremble,
Nor Prussia struggle her fear to dissemble;
Nor the Mah'met-sprung Wight
The great Mussulman
Would stain his Divan 60
With Urine the soft-flowing daughter of Fright.
But rein your stallion in, too daring Nine!
Should Empires bloat the scientific line?
Or with dishevell'd hair all madly do ye run
For transport that your task is done? 65
For done it is—the cause is tried!
And Proposition, gentle Maid,
Who soothly ask'd stern Demonstration's aid,
Has proved her right, and A. B. C.
Of Angles three 70
Is shown to be of equal side;
And now our weary steed to rest in fine,
'Tis rais'd upon A. B. the straight, the given line.
1791.
FOOTNOTES:
LINENOTES:
Title] Prospectus and Specimen of a
Translation of Euclid in a series of Pindaric Odes, communicated in a
letter of the author to his Brother Rev. G. Coleridge [March 17, 1791].
MS. O (c).
[5] A E N G E E E L E. Letter, 1791.
[36] A C to C B and C B to C A. Letter, 1791, MS. O (c).
[48] affiance] alliance Letter, 1791.
[55] Autocratrix] Autocratorix MS. O (c).
O, curas hominum! O, quantum est in rebus inane!
The fervid Sun had more than halv'd the day,
When gloomy on his couch Philedon lay;
His feeble frame consumptive as his purse,
His aching head did wine and women curse;
His fortune ruin'd and his wealth decay'd, 5
Clamorous his duns, his gaming debts unpaid,
The youth indignant seiz'd his tailor's bill,
And on its back thus wrote with moral quill:
'Various as colours in the rainbow shown,
Or similar in emptiness alone, 10
How false, how vain are Man's pursuits below!
Wealth, Honour, Pleasure—what can ye bestow?
Yet see, how high and low, and young and old
Pursue the all-delusive power of Gold.
Fond man! should all Peru thy empire own, 15
For thee tho' all Golconda's jewels shone,
What greater bliss could all this wealth supply?
What, but to eat and drink and sleep and die?
Go, tempt the stormy sea, the burning soil—
Go, waste the night in thought, the day in toil, 20
[25]Dark frowns the rock, and fierce the tempests rave—
Thy ingots go the unconscious deep to pave!
Or thunder at thy door the midnight train,
Or Death shall knock that never knocks in vain.
Next Honour's sons come bustling on amain; 25
I laugh with pity at the idle train.
Infirm of soul! who think'st to lift thy name
Upon the waxen wings of human fame,—
Who for a sound, articulated breath—
Gazest undaunted in the face of death! 30
What art thou but a Meteor's glaring light—
Blazing a moment and then sunk in night?
Caprice which rais'd thee high shall hurl thee low,
Or Envy blast the laurels on thy brow.
To such poor joys could ancient Honour lead 35
When empty fame was toiling Merit's meed;
To Modern Honour other lays belong;
Profuse of joy and Lord of right and wrong,
Honour can game, drink, riot in the stew,
Cut a friend's throat;—what cannot Honour do? 40
Ah me!—the storm within can Honour still
For Julio's death, whom Honour made me kill?
Or will this lordly Honour tell the way
To pay those debts, which Honour makes me pay?
Or if with pistol and terrific threats 45
I make some traveller pay my Honour's debts,
A medicine for this wound can Honour give?
Ah, no! my Honour dies to make my Honour live.
But see! young Pleasure, and her train advance,
And joy and laughter wake the inebriate dance; 50
Around my neck she throws her fair white arms,
I meet her loves, and madden at her charms.
For the gay grape can joys celestial move,
And what so sweet below as Woman's love?
With such high transport every moment flies, 55
I curse Experience that he makes me wise;
For at his frown the dear deliriums flew,
And the changed scene now wears a gloomy hue.
A hideous hag th' Enchantress Pleasure seems,
And all her joys appear but feverous dreams. 60
[26]The vain resolve still broken and still made,
Disease and loathing and remorse invade;
The charm is vanish'd and the bubble's broke,—
A slave to pleasure is a slave to smoke!'
Such lays repentant did the Muse supply; 65
When as the Sun was hastening down the sky,
In glittering state twice fifty guineas come,—
His Mother's plate antique had rais'd the sum.
Forth leap'd Philedon of new life possest:—
'Twas Brookes's all till two,—'twas Hackett's all the rest! 70
1791.
FOOTNOTES:
LINENOTES:
No title, but motto as above MS. O.: Philedon,
Eds. 1877, 1893.
[43-4]
Or will my Honour kindly tell the way
To pay the debts
MS. O.
[60] feverous] feverish MS. O.
[70] Brookes's, a famous gaming-house in Fleet Street.
Hackett's, a brothel under the Covent Garden Piazza. Note MS. O.
All are not born to soar—and ah! how few
In tracks where Wisdom leads their paths pursue!
Contagious when to wit or wealth allied,
Folly and Vice diffuse their venom wide.
On Folly every fool his talent tries; 5
It asks some toil to imitate the wise;
Tho' few like Fox can speak—like Pitt can think—
Yet all like Fox can game—like Pitt can drink.
? 1791
FOOTNOTES:
INSIDE THE COACH[26:2]
'Tis hard on Bagshot Heath to try
Unclos'd to keep the weary eye;
But ah! Oblivion's nod to get
In rattling coach is harder yet.
Slumbrous God of half-shut eye! 5
Who lovest with limbs supine to lie;
Soother sweet of toil and care
Listen, listen to my prayer;
And to thy votary dispense
Thy soporific influence! 10
[27]What tho' around thy drowsy head
The seven-fold cap of night be spread,
Yet lift that drowsy head awhile
And yawn propitiously a smile;
In drizzly rains poppean dews 15
O'er the tired inmates of the Coach diffuse;
And when thou'st charm'd our eyes to rest,
Pillowing the chin upon the breast,
Bid many a dream from thy dominions
Wave its various-painted pinions, 20
Till ere the splendid visions close
We snore quartettes in ecstasy of nose.
While thus we urge our airy course,
O may no jolt's electric force
Our fancies from their steeds unhorse, 25
And call us from thy fairy reign
To dreary Bagshot Heath again!
1791.
FOOTNOTES:
LINENOTES:
Title] Ode to sleep. Travelling in the
Exeter Coach with three other passengers over Bagshot Heath, after some
vain endeavours to compose myself I composed this Ode—August 17, 1791.
MS. O.
[12] Vulgo yclept night-cap MS. O.
DEVONSHIRE ROADS[27:1]
The indignant Bard composed this furious ode,
As tired he dragg'd his way thro' Plimtree road![27:2]
Crusted with filth and stuck in mire
Dull sounds the Bard's bemudded lyre;
Nathless Revenge and Ire the Poet goad 5
To pour his imprecations on the road.
Curst road! whose execrable way
Was darkly shadow'd out in Milton's lay,
When the sad fiends thro' Hell's sulphureous roads
Took the first survey of their new abodes; 10
Or when the fall'n Archangel fierce
Dar'd through the realms of Night to pierce,
What time the Bloodhound lur'd by Human scent
Thro' all Confusion's quagmires floundering went.
Nor cheering pipe, nor Bird's shrill note 15
Around thy dreary paths shall float;
Their boding songs shall scritch-owls pour
To fright the guilty shepherds sore,
[28]Led by the wandering fires astray
Thro' the dank horrors of thy way! 20
While they their mud-lost sandals hunt
May all the curses, which they grunt
In raging moan like goaded hog,
Alight upon thee, damnéd Bog!
1791.
FOOTNOTES:
LINENOTES:
Hence, soul-dissolving Harmony
That lead'st th' oblivious soul astray—
Though thou sphere-descended be—
Hence away!—
Thou mightier Goddess, thou demand'st my lay, 5
Born when earth was seiz'd with cholic;
Or as more sapient sages say,
What time the Legion diabolic
Compell'd their beings to enshrine
In bodies vile of herded swine, 10
Precipitate adown the steep
With hideous rout were plunging in the deep,
And hog and devil mingling grunt and yell
Seiz'd on the ear with horrible obtrusion;—
Then if aright old legendaries tell, 15
Wert thou begot by Discord on Confusion!
What though no name's sonorous power
Was given thee at thy natal hour!—
Yet oft I feel thy sacred might,
While concords wing their distant flight. 20
Such Power inspires thy holy son
Sable clerk of Tiverton!
And oft where Otter sports his stream,
I hear thy banded offspring scream.
Thou Goddess! thou inspir'st each throat; 25
'Tis thou who pour'st the scritch-owl note!
Transported hear'st thy children all
Scrape and blow and squeak and squall;
And while old Otter's steeple rings,
Clappest hoarse thy raven wings! 30
1791.
FOOTNOTES: