[73]

thee] thee S. L. 1828, 1829.

[74]

Strewed] Strewn MS. B., 1828, 1829.

[82]

thy] thy S. L. 1828, 1829.

[82-3]
Thou too, Friend!
 O injure not the memory of that hour

MS. W.

Thou too, Friend!
 Impair thou not the memory of that Hour

MS. B.

[93]

Becomes most sweet! hours for their own sake hail'd MS. W.

[96]

thy] the MS. B.

[98]

my] her MS. B.

[102]

and] my MSS. W., B.

[104]

Song] lay MS. W.

[106]

my] mine MSS. W., B.

Between 107-8

(All whom I deepliest love—in one room all!)

MSS. W., B.

AN ANGEL VISITANT[409:1]

Within these circling hollies woodbine-clad—
 Beneath this small blue roof of vernal sky—
 How warm, how still! Tho' tears should dim mine eye,
 Yet will my heart for days continue glad,
 For here, my love, thou art, and here am I!

? 1801.

FOOTNOTES:

[409:1] First published in Literary Remains, 1836, i. 280. First collected in P. and D. W., 1877-80. The title was prefixed to the Poems of Coleridge (illustrated edition), 1907. This 'exquisite fragment . . . was probably composed as the opening of Recollections of Love, and abandoned on account of a change of metre.'—Editor's Note, 1893 (p. 635). It is in no way a translation, but the thought or idea was suggested by one of the German stanzas which Coleridge selected and copied into one of his Notebooks as models or specimens of various metres. For the original, vide Appendices of this edition.

RECOLLECTIONS OF LOVE[409:2]

I
How warm this woodland wild Recess!
 Love surely hath been breathing here;
 And this sweet bed of heath, my dear!
 Swells up, then sinks with faint caress,
 As if to have you yet more near. 5
II
Eight springs have flown, since last I lay
 On sea-ward Quantock's heathy hills,
 Where quiet sounds from hidden rills
 Float here and there, like things astray,
 And high o'er head the sky-lark shrills. 10
 [410]
III
No voice as yet had made the air
 Be music with your name; yet why
 That asking look? that yearning sigh?
 That sense of promise every where?
 Beloved! flew your spirit by? 15
IV
As when a mother doth explore
 The rose-mark on her long-lost child,
 I met, I loved you, maiden mild!
 As whom I long had loved before—
 So deeply had I been beguiled. 20
V
You stood before me like a thought,
 A dream remembered in a dream.
 But when those meek eyes first did seem
 To tell me, Love within you wrought—
 O Greta, dear domestic stream! 25
VI
Has not, since then, Love's prompture deep,
 Has not Love's whisper evermore
 Been ceaseless, as thy gentle roar?
 Sole voice, when other voices sleep,
 Dear under-song in clamor's hour. 30

1807.

FOOTNOTES:

[409:2] First published in Sibylline Leaves, 1817: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834. It is impossible to fix the date of composition, though internal evidence points to July, 1807, when Coleridge revisited Stowey after a long absence. The first stanza, a variant of the preceding fragment, is introduced into a prose fancy, entitled 'Questions and Answers in the Court of Love', of uncertain date, but perhaps written at Malta in 1805 (vide Appendices of this edition). A first draft of stanzas 1-4 (vide supra) is included in the collection of metrical experiments and metrical schemes, modelled on German and Italian originals, which seems to have been begun in 1801, with a view to a projected 'Essay on Metre'. Stanzas 5, 6 are not contemporary with stanzas 1-4, and, perhaps, date from 1814, 1815, when Sibylline Leaves were being prepared for the press.

TO TWO SISTERS[410:1]

[Mary Morgan and Charlotte Brent]

A WANDERER'S FAREWELL

To know, to esteem, to love,—and then to part—
 Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart;
 Alas for some abiding-place of love,
 O'er which my spirit, like the mother dove,
 Might brood with warming wings!
 O fair! O kind! 5
 [411]Sisters in blood, yet each with each intwined
 More close by sisterhood of heart and mind!
 Me disinherited in form and face
 By nature, and mishap of outward grace;
 Who, soul and body, through one guiltless fault 10
 Waste daily with the poison of sad thought,
 Me did you soothe, when solace hoped I none!
 And as on unthaw'd ice the winter sun,
 Though stern the frost, though brief the genial day,
 You bless my heart with many a cheerful ray; 15
 For gratitude suspends the heart's despair,
 Reflecting bright though cold your image there.
 Nay more! its music by some sweeter strain
 Makes us live o'er our happiest hours again,
 Hope re-appearing dim in memory's guise— 20
 Even thus did you call up before mine eyes
 Two dear, dear Sisters, prized all price above,
 Sisters, like you, with more than sisters' love;
 So like you they, and so in you were seen
 Their relative statures, tempers, looks, and mien, 25
 That oft, dear ladies! you have been to me
 At once a vision and reality.
 Sight seem'd a sort of memory, and amaze
 Mingled a trouble with affection's gaze.
Oft to my eager soul I whisper blame, 30
 A Stranger bid it feel the Stranger's shame—
 My eager soul, impatient of the name,
 No strangeness owns, no Stranger's form descries:
 The chidden heart spreads trembling on the eyes.
 [412]First-seen I gazed, as I would look you thro'! 35
 My best-beloved regain'd their youth in you,—
 And still I ask, though now familiar grown,
 Are you for their sakes dear, or for your own?
 O doubly dear! may Quiet with you dwell!
In Grief I love you, yet I love you well! 40
 Hope long is dead to me! an orphan's tear
 Love wept despairing o'er his nurse's bier.
 Yet still she flutters o'er her grave's green slope:
 For Love's despair is but the ghost of Hope!
Sweet Sisters! were you placed around one hearth 45
 With those, your other selves in shape and worth,
 Far rather would I sit in solitude,
 Fond recollections all my fond heart's food,
 And dream of you, sweet Sisters! (ah! not mine!)
 And only dream of you (ah! dream and pine!) 50
 Than boast the presence and partake the pride,
 And shine in the eye, of all the world beside.

1807.

FOOTNOTES:

[410:1] First published in The Courier, December 10, 1807, with the signature SIESTI. First collected in P. and D. W., 1877-80. The following abbreviated and altered version was included in P. W., 1834, 1844, and 1852, with the heading 'On taking Leave of —— 1817':—

To know, to esteem, to love—and then to part,
 Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart!
 O for some dear abiding-place of Love,
 O'er which my spirit, like the mother dove
 Might brood with warming wings!—O fair as kind,
 Were but one sisterhood with you combined,
 (Your very image they in shape and mind)
 Far rather would I sit in solitude,
 The forms of memory all my mental food,
 And dream of you, sweet sisters, (ah, not mine!)
 And only dream of you (ah dream and pine!)
 Than have the presence, and partake the pride,
 And shine in the eye of all the world beside!

PSYCHE[412:1]

The butterfly the ancient Grecians made
 The soul's fair emblem, and its only name—[412:2]
 But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade
 Of mortal life!—For in this earthly frame
 Ours is the reptile's lot, much toil, much blame, 5
 Manifold motions making little speed,
 And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed.

1808.

FOOTNOTES:

[412:1] First published with a prefatory note:—'The fact that in Greek Psyche is the common name for the soul, and the butterfly, is thus alluded to in the following stanzas from an unpublished poem of the Author', in the Biographia Literaria, 1817, i. 82, n.: included (as No. II of 'Three Scraps') in Amulet, 1833: Lit. Rem., 1836, i. 53. First collected in 1844. In Lit. Rem. and 1844 the poem is dated 1808.

[412:2] Psyche means both Butterfly and Soul. Amulet, 1833.

In some instances the Symbolic and Onomastic are united as in Psyche = Anima et papilio. MS. S. T. C. (Hence the word 'name' was italicised in the MS.)

LINENOTES:

Title] The Butterfly Amulet, 1833, 1877-81, 1893.

[4]

Of earthly life. For in this fleshly frame MS. S. T. C.: Of earthly life! For, in this mortal frame Amulet, 1833, 1893.

A TOMBLESS EPITAPH[413:1]

'Tis true, Idoloclastes Satyrane!
 (So call him, for so mingling blame with praise,
 And smiles with anxious looks, his earliest friends,
 Masking his birth-name, wont to character
 His wild-wood fancy and impetuous zeal,) 5
 'Tis true that, passionate for ancient truths,
 And honouring with religious love the Great
 Of elder times, he hated to excess,
 With an unquiet and intolerant scorn,
 The hollow Puppets of a hollow Age, 10
 Ever idolatrous, and changing ever
 Its worthless Idols! Learning, Power, and Time,
 (Too much of all) thus wasting in vain war
 Of fervid colloquy. Sickness, 'tis true,
 Whole years of weary days, besieged him close, 15
 Even to the gates and inlets of his life!
 But it is true, no less, that strenuous, firm,
 And with a natural gladness, he maintained
 The citadel unconquered, and in joy
 Was strong to follow the delightful Muse. 20
 For not a hidden path, that to the shades
 Of the beloved Parnassian forest leads,
 Lurked undiscovered by him; not a rill
 There issues from the fount of Hippocrene,
 But he had traced it upward to its source, 25
 Through open glade, dark glen, and secret dell,
 Knew the gay wild flowers on its banks, and culled
 Its med'cinable herbs. Yea, oft alone,
 Piercing the long-neglected holy cave,
 [414]The haunt obscure of old Philosophy, 30
 He bade with lifted torch its starry walls
 Sparkle, as erst they sparkled to the flame
 Of odorous lamps tended by Saint and Sage.
 O framed for calmer times and nobler hearts!
 O studious Poet, eloquent for truth! 35
 Philosopher! contemning wealth and death,
 Yet docile, childlike, full of Life and Love!
 Here, rather than on monumental stone,
 This record of thy worth thy Friend inscribes,
 Thoughtful, with quiet tears upon his cheek. 40

? 1809.

FOOTNOTES:

[413:1] First published in The Friend, No. XIV, November 23, 1809. There is no title or heading to the poem, which occupies the first page of the number, but a footnote is appended:—'Imitated, though in the movements rather than the thoughts, from the viith, of Gli Epitafi of Chiabrera:

Fu ver, che Ambrosio Salinero a torto
 Si pose in pena d'odiose liti,' &c.

Included in Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834. Sir Satyrane, 'A Satyres son yborne in forrest wylde' (Spenser's Faery Queene, Bk. I, C. vi, l. 21) rescues Una from the violence of Sarazin. Coleridge may have regarded Satyrane as the anonymn of Luther. Idoloclast, as he explains in the preface to 'Satyrane's Letters', is a 'breaker of idols'.

LINENOTES:

[10]

a] an Friend, 1809, S. L. 1828, 1829.

[16]

inlets] outlets Friend, 1809.

[37]

Life] light The Friend, 1809.

FOR A MARKET-CLOCK[414:1]

(IMPROMPTU)

What now, O Man! thou dost or mean'st to do
 Will help to give thee peace, or make thee rue,
 When hovering o'er the Dot this hand shall tell
 The moment that secures thee Heaven or Hell!

1809.

FOOTNOTES:

[414:1] Sent in a letter to T. Poole, October 9, 1809, and transferred to one of Coleridge's Notebooks with the heading 'Inscription proposed on a Clock in a market place': included in 'Omniana' of 1809-16 (Literary Remains, 1836, i. 347) with the erroneous title 'Inscription on a Clock in Cheapside'. First collected in 1893.

What now thou do'st, or art about to do,
 Will help to give thee peace, or make thee rue;
 When hov'ring o'er the line this hand will tell
 The last dread moment—'twill be heaven or hell.

Read for the last two lines:—

When wav'ring o'er the dot this hand shall tell
 The moment that secures thee Heaven or Hell.

MS. Lit. Rem.

THE MADMAN AND THE LETHARGIST[414:2]

AN EXAMPLE

Quoth Dick to me, as once at College
 We argued on the use of knowledge;—
 [415]'In old King Olim's reign, I've read,
 There lay two patients in one bed.
 The one in fat lethargic trance, 5
 Lay wan and motionless as lead:
 The other, (like the Folks in France),
 Possess'd a different disposition—
 In short, the plain truth to confess,
 The man was madder than Mad Bess! 10
 But both diseases, none disputed,
 Were unmedicinably rooted;
 Yet, so it chanc'd, by Heaven's permission,
 Each prov'd the other's true physician.
'Fighting with a ghostly stare 15
 Troops of Despots in the air,
 Obstreperously Jacobinical,
 The madman froth'd, and foam'd, and roar'd:
 The other, snoring octaves cynical,
 Like good John Bull, in posture clinical, 20
 Seem'd living only when he snor'd.
 The Citizen enraged to see
 This fat Insensibility,
 Or, tir'd with solitary labour,
 Determin'd to convert his neighbour; 25
 So up he sprang and to 't he fell,
 Like devil piping hot from hell,
 With indefatigable fist
 Belabr'ing the poor Lethargist;
 Till his own limbs were stiff and sore, 30
 And sweat-drops roll'd from every pore:—
 Yet, still, with flying fingers fleet,
 Duly accompanied by feet,
 With some short intervals of biting,
 He executes the self-same strain, 35
 Till the Slumberer woke for pain,
 And half-prepared himself for fighting—
 [416]That moment that his mad Colleague
 Sunk down and slept thro' pure fatigue.
 So both were cur'd—and this example 40
 Gives demonstration full and ample—
 That Chance may bring a thing to bear,
 Where Art sits down in blank despair.'
'That's true enough, Dick,' answer'd I,
 'But as for the Example, 'tis a lie.' 45

? 1809

FOOTNOTES:

[414:2] Now published for the first time from one of Coleridge's Notebooks. The use of the party catchword 'Citizen' and the allusion to 'Folks in France' would suggest 1796-7 as a probable date, but the point or interpretation of the 'Example' was certainly in Coleridge's mind when he put together the first number of The Friend, published June 1, 1809:—'Though all men are in error, they are not all in the same error, nor at the same time . . . each therefore may possibly heal the other . . . even as two or more physicians, all diseased in their general health, yet under the immediate action of the disease on different days, may remove or alleviate the complaints of each other.'

THE VISIONARY HOPE[416:1]

Sad lot, to have no Hope! Though lowly kneeling
 He fain would frame a prayer within his breast,
 Would fain entreat for some sweet breath of healing,
 That his sick body might have ease and rest;
 He strove in vain! the dull sighs from his chest 5
 Against his will the stifling load revealing,
 Though Nature forced; though like some captive guest,
 Some royal prisoner at his conqueror's feast,
 An alien's restless mood but half concealing,
 The sternness on his gentle brow confessed, 10
 Sickness within and miserable feeling:
 Though obscure pangs made curses of his dreams,
 And dreaded sleep, each night repelled in vain,
 Each night was scattered by its own loud screams:
 Yet never could his heart command, though fain, 15
 One deep full wish to be no more in pain.
That Hope, which was his inward bliss and boast,
 Which waned and died, yet ever near him stood,
 Though changed in nature, wander where he would—
 For Love's Despair is but Hope's pining Ghost! 20
 For this one hope he makes his hourly moan,
 He wishes and can wish for this alone!
 Pierced, as with light from Heaven, before its gleams
 (So the love-stricken visionary deems)
 Disease would vanish, like a summer shower, 25
 Whose dews fling sunshine from the noon-tide bower!
 Or let it stay! yet this one Hope should give
 Such strength that he would bless his pains and live.

? 1810.

FOOTNOTES:

[416:1] First published in Sibylline Leaves, 1817: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

[22]

can] can S. L. 1828, 1829.

EPITAPH ON AN INFANT[417:1]

Its balmy lips the infant blest
 Relaxing from its Mother's breast,
 How sweet it heaves the happy sigh
 Of innocent satiety!
And such my Infant's latest sigh! 5
 Oh tell, rude stone! the passer by,
 That here the pretty babe doth lie,
 Death sang to sleep with Lullaby.

1811.

FOOTNOTES:

[417:1] First published, with the signature 'Aphilos,' in the Courier, Wednesday, March 20, 1811: included in Sibylline Leaves, 1817, and in 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

[1]

balmy] milky Courier, 1811.

[5]

Infant's] darling's Courier, 1811.

[6]

Tell simple stone Courier, 1811.

[7]

the] a Courier, 1811.

THE VIRGIN'S CRADLE-HYMN[417:2]

COPIED FROM A PRINT OF THE VIRGIN IN A ROMAN CATHOLIC
VILLAGE IN GERMANY

Dormi, Jesu! Mater ridet
 Quae tam dulcem somnum videt,
 Dormi, Jesu! blandule!
 Si non dormis, Mater plorat,
 Inter fila cantans orat, 5
 Blande, veni, somnule.
ENGLISH[417:3]
Sleep, sweet babe! my cares beguiling:
 Mother sits beside thee smiling;
 Sleep, my darling, tenderly!
 [418]If thou sleep not, mother mourneth, 10
 Singing as her wheel she turneth:
 Come, soft slumber, balmily!

1811.

FOOTNOTES:

[417:2] First published as from 'A Correspondent in Germany' in the Morning Post, December 26, 1801.

[417:3] First published with the Latin in the Courier, August 30, 1811, with the following introduction:—'About thirteen years ago or more, travelling through the middle parts of Germany I saw a little print of the Virgin and Child in the small public house of a Catholic Village, with the following beautiful Latin lines under it, which I transcribed. They may be easily adapted to the air of the famous Sicilian Hymn, Adeste fideles, laeti triumphantes, by the omission of a few notes.' First collected in Sibylline Leaves, 1817: included in 1828, 1829, and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title—In a Roman Catholic] In a Catholic S. L., 1828, 1829.

TO A LADY[418:1]

OFFENDED BY A SPORTIVE OBSERVATION
THAT WOMEN HAVE NO SOULS

Nay, dearest Anna! why so grave?
 I said, you had no soul, 'tis true!
 For what you are, you cannot have:
 'Tis I, that have one since I first had you!

? 1811.

FOOTNOTES:

[418:1] First published in Omniana (1812), i. 238; 'as a playful illustration of the distinction between To have and to be.' First collected in 1828: included in 1829 and 1834.

LINENOTES:

In line 3 'are', 'have', and in line 4 'have', 'you', are italicized in all editions except 1834.

REASON FOR LOVE'S BLINDNESS[418:2]

I have heard of reasons manifold
 Why Love must needs be blind,
 But this the best of all I hold—
 His eyes are in his mind.
What outward form and feature are 5
 He guesseth but in part;
 But that within is good and fair
 He seeth with the heart.

? 1811.

FOOTNOTES:

[418:2] First published in 1828: included in 1829 and 1834.

LINENOTES:

Title] In 1828, 1829, 1834 these stanzas are printed without a title, but are divided by a space from Lines to a Lady. The title appears first in 1893.

THE SUICIDE'S ARGUMENT[419:1]

Ere the birth of my life, if I wished it or no,
 No question was asked me—it could not be so!
 If the life was the question, a thing sent to try,
 And to live on be Yes; what can No be? to die.
NATURE'S ANSWER
Is't returned, as 'twas sent? Is't no worse for the wear? 5
 Think first, what you are! Call to mind what you were!
 I gave you innocence, I gave you hope,
 Gave health, and genius, and an ample scope.
 Return you me guilt, lethargy, despair?
 Make out the invent'ry; inspect, compare! 10
 Then die—if die you dare!

1811.

FOOTNOTES: