'Be, rather than be called, a child of God,'
Death whispered! With assenting nod,
Its head upon its mother's breast,
The Baby bowed, without demur—
Of the kingdom of the Blest
Possessor, not Inheritor.

April 8, 1799.


FOOTNOTES:

[312:1] First published in P. W., 1834. These lines were sent in a letter from Coleridge to his wife, dated Göttingen, April 6, 1799:—'Ah, my poor Berkeley!' [b. May 15, 1798, d. Feb. 10, 1799] he writes, 'A few weeks ago an Englishman desired me to write an epitaph on an infant who had died before its Christening. While I wrote it, my heart with a deep misgiving turned my thoughts homeward. "On an Infant", &c. It refers to the second question in the Church Catechism.' Letters of S. T. C. 1895, i. 287.

LINENOTES:

[1]

called] call'd MS. Letter, 1799.

[3]

its] the MS. letter, 1799.

[4]

bow'd and went without demur MS. Letter, 1799.


SOMETHING CHILDISH, BUT VERY NATURAL[313:1]

WRITTEN IN GERMANY

If I had but two little wings
And were a little feathery bird,
To you I'd fly, my dear!
But thoughts like these are idle things,
And I stay here. 5
But in my sleep to you I fly:
I'm always with you in my sleep!
The world is all one's own.
But then one wakes, and where am I?
All, all alone. 10
Sleep stays not, though a monarch bids:
So I love to wake ere break of day:
For though my sleep be gone,
Yet while 'tis dark, one shuts one's lids,
And still dreams on. 15

April 23, 1799.


FOOTNOTES:

[313:1] First published in the Annual Anthology (1800), with the signature 'Cordomi': included in Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834. The lines, without title or heading, were sent in a letter from Coleridge to his wife, dated Göttingen, April 23, 1799 (Letters of S. T. C., 1895, i. 294-5). They are an imitation (see F. Freiligrath's Biographical Memoir to the Tauchnitz edition of 1852) of the German Folk-song Wenn ich ein Vöglein wär. For the original see Appendices of this edition. The title 'Something Childish', &c., was prefixed in the Annual Anthology, 1800.

LINENOTES:

[3]

you] you MS. Letter, 1799.

[6]

you] you MS. Letter, 1799.


HOME-SICK[314:1]

WRITTEN IN GERMANY

'Tis sweet to him who all the week
Through city-crowds must push his way,
To stroll alone through fields and woods,
And hallow thus the Sabbath-day.
And sweet it is, in summer bower, 5
Sincere, affectionate and gay,
One's own dear children feasting round,
To celebrate one's marriage-day.
But what is all to his delight,
Who having long been doomed to roam, 10
Throws off the bundle from his back,
Before the door of his own home?
Home-sickness is a wasting pang;
This feel I hourly more and more:
There's healing only in thy wings, 15
Thou breeze that play'st on Albion's shore!

May 6, 1799.


FOOTNOTES:

[314:1] First published in the Annual Anthology (1800), with the signature 'Cordomi': included in Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834. The lines, without title or heading, were sent in a letter from Coleridge to Poole, dated May 6, 1799 (Letters of S. T.C., 1895, i. 298). Dr. Carlyon in his Early Years, &c. (1856, i. 66), prints stanzas 1, 3, and 4. He says that they were written from Coleridge's dictation, in the Brockenstammbuch at the little inn on the Brocken. The title 'Home-Sick', &c., was prefixed in the Annual Anthology, 1800.

LINENOTES:

[13]

a wasting pang] no baby-pang MS. Letter, 1799, An. Anth.

[15]

There's only music in thy wings MS. Letter, 1799.


LINES[315:1]

WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM AT ELBINGERODE, IN THE HARTZ FOREST

I stood on Brocken's[315:2] sovran height, and saw
Woods crowding upon woods, hills over hills,
A surging scene, and only limited
By the blue distance. Heavily my way
Downward I dragged through fir groves evermore, 5
Where bright green moss heaves in sepulchral forms
Speckled with sunshine; and, but seldom heard,
The sweet bird's song became a hollow sound;
And the breeze, murmuring indivisibly,
Preserved its solemn murmur most distinct 10
From many a note of many a waterfall,
And the brook's chatter; 'mid whose islet-stones
The dingy kidling with its tinkling bell
Leaped frolicsome, or old romantic goat
Sat, his white beard slow waving. I moved on 15
In low and languid mood:[315:3] for I had found
That outward forms, the loftiest, still receive
Their finer influence from the Life within;—
Fair cyphers else: fair, but of import vague
Or unconcerning, where the heart not finds 20
History or prophecy of friend, or child,
Or gentle maid, our first and early love,
Or father, or the venerable name
Of our adoréd country! O thou Queen,
Thou delegated Deity of Earth, 25
O dear, dear England! how my longing eye
Turned westward, shaping in the steady clouds
Thy sands and high white cliffs!
My native Land!
Filled with the thought of thee this heart was proud,
Yea, mine eye swam with tears: that all the view 30
From sovran Brocken, woods and woody hills,
Floated away, like a departing dream,
Feeble and dim! Stranger, these impulses
Blame thou not lightly; nor will I profane,
With hasty judgment or injurious doubt, 35
That man's sublimer spirit, who can feel
That God is everywhere! the God who framed
Mankind to be one mighty family,
Himself our Father, and the World our Home.

May 17, 1799.


FOOTNOTES:

[315:1] First published in the Morning Post, September 17, 1799: included in the Annual Anthology (1800) [signed C.], in Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834. The lines were sent in a letter from Coleridge to his wife, dated May 17, 1799. Part of the letter was printed in the Amulet, 1829, and the whole in the Monthly Magazine for October, 1835. A long extract is given in Gillman's Life of S. T. C., 1838, pp. 125-38.

[315:2] The highest Mountain in the Harz, and indeed in North Germany.

[315:3]

——When I have gaz'd
From some high eminence on goodly vales,
And cots and villages embower'd below,
The thought would rise that all to me was strange
Amid the scenes so fair, nor one small spot
Where my tired mind might rest and call it home.

Southey's Hymn to the Penates.

LINENOTES:

[3]

surging] surging M. P.

[4]

Heavily] Wearily MS. Letter.

[6]

heaves] mov'd MS. Letter.

[8]

a] an all editions to 1834.

[9]

breeze] gale MS. Letter.

[11]

waterfall] waterbreak MS. Letter.

[12]

'mid] on MS. Letter.

[16]

With low and languid thought, for I had found MS. Letter.

[17]

That grandest scenes have but imperfect charms MS. Letter, M. P., An. Anth.

[18]
Where the eye vainly wanders nor beholds

MS. Letter.

Where the sight, &c.

M. P., An. Anth.

[19]

One spot with which the heart associates MS. Letter, M. P., An. Anth.

[19-21]
Fair cyphers of vague import, where the Eye
Traces no spot, in which the Heart may read
History or Prophecy

S. L. 1817, 1828.

[20]
Holy Remembrances of Child or Friend

MS. Letter.

Holy Remembrances of Friend or Child

M. P., An. Anth.

[26]

eye] eyes MS. Letter.

[28-30]
Sweet native Isle
This heart was proud, yea mine eyes swam with tears
To think of thee: and all the goodly view

MS. Letter.

[28]

O native land M. P., An. Anth.

[34]

I] I MS. Letter.

[38]

family] brother-hood MS. Letter.


THE BRITISH STRIPLING'S WAR-SONG[317:1]

IMITATED FROM STOLBERG

Yes, noble old Warrior! this heart has beat high,
Since you told of the deeds which our countrymen wrought;
O lend me the sabre that hung by thy thigh,
And I too will fight as my forefathers fought.
Despise not my youth, for my spirit is steel'd, 5
And I know there is strength in the grasp of my hand;
Yea, as firm as thyself would I march to the field,
And as proudly would die for my dear native land.
In the sports of my childhood I mimick'd the fight,
The sound of a trumpet suspended my breath; 10
And my fancy still wander'd by day and by night,
Amid battle and tumult, 'mid conquest and death.
My own shout of onset, when the Armies advance,
How oft it awakes me from visions of glory;
When I meant to have leapt on the Hero of France, 15
And have dash'd him to earth, pale and breathless and gory.
As late thro' the city with banners all streaming
To the music of trumpets the Warriors flew by,
With helmet and scimitars naked and gleaming,
On their proud-trampling, thunder-hoof'd steeds did they fly; 20
I sped to yon heath that is lonely and bare,
For each nerve was unquiet, each pulse in alarm;
And I hurl'd the mock-lance thro' the objectless air,
And in open-eyed dream proved the strength of my arm.
Yes, noble old Warrior! this heart has beat high, 25
Since you told of the deeds that our countrymen wrought;
O lend me the sabre that hung by thy thigh,
And I too will fight as my forefathers fought!

? 1799.


FOOTNOTES:

[317:1] First published in the Morning Post, August 24, 1799: included in the Annual Anthology for 1800: reprinted in Literary Remains, 1836, i. 276, in the Gentleman's Magazine, 1848. ('Communicated to the Bath Herald during the Volunteer Frenzy of 1803') (N. S. xxix, p. 60), and in Essays on His Own Times, iii. 988-9. First collected in P. W., 1877-80, ii. 200-1. The MS. is preserved in the British Museum. The text follows that of the Annual Anthology, 1800, pp. 173-4. For the original by Count F. L. Stolberg (Lied eines deutschen Knaben) see Appendices of this edition.

LINENOTES:

Title] The Stripling's War-Song. Imitated from the German of Stolberg MS. The Stripling's, &c. Imitated from Stolberg L. R. The British Stripling's War Song M. P., An. Anth., Essays, &c. The Volunteer Stripling. A Song G. M.

[1]

Yes] My MS., L. R.

[2]

Since] When G. M. which] that MS., L. R. our] your M. P., Essays, &c.

[3]

Ah! give me the sabre [Falchion] that [which L. R.] MS., Essays, &c.

[5]

O despise MS., L. R., Essays, &c.

[7]

march] move MS., L. R.

[8]

would] could Essays, &c. native land] fatherland L. R.

[9]

fight] sight G. M.

[10]

sound] shrill [sound] MS., L. R. a] the M. P., Essays, &c.

[12]

Amid tumults [tumult L. R.] and perils MS. 'mid] and Essays, &c. Mid battle and bloodshed G. M.

[13]
My own eager shout in the heat of my trance

MS., MS. correction in An. Anth., L. R.

My own shout of onset,
 
 
in the heat of my trance G. M., 1893.
when the armies advance
[14]

visions] dreams full MS., L. R. How oft it has wak'd G. M.

[15]

When I dreamt that I rush'd G. M.

[16]

breathless] deathless L. R. pale, breathless G. M.

[17]

city] town G. M.

[17-18]
 
   
 
with bannerets streaming
with a terrible beauty
To [And L. R.] the music

MS.

[19]

scimitars] scymetar MS., L.R., Essays, &c., G. M.: scymeter M. P.

Between 20-1

And the Host pacing after in gorgeous parade
All mov'd to one measure in front and in rear;
And the Pipe, Drum and Trumpet, such harmony made
As the souls of the Slaughter'd would loiter to hear.

MS. erased.

[21]

that] which L. R.

[22]

For my soul MS. erased.

[23]

I hurl'd my MS., L. R., Essays, &c. objectless] mind-peopled G. M.

[26]

Since] When G. M.

[27]

Ah! give me the falchion MS., L. R.


NAMES[318:1]

[FROM LESSING]

I ask'd my fair one happy day,
What I should call her in my lay;
By what sweet name from Rome or Greece;
Lalage, Neaera, Chloris,
Sappho, Lesbia, or Doris, 5
Arethusa or Lucrece.
'Ah!' replied my gentle fair,
'Belovéd, what are names but air?
Choose thou whatever suits the line;
Call me Sappho, call me Chloris, 10
Call me Lalage or Doris,
Only, only call me Thine.'

1799.


FOOTNOTES:

[318:1] First published in the Morning Post: reprinted in the Poetical Register for 1803 (1805) with the signature Harley. Philadelphia, in the Keepsake for 1829, in Cottle's Early Recollections (two versions) 1837, ii. 67, and in Essays on His Own Times, iii. 990, 'As it first appeared' in the Morning Post. First collected in 1834. For the original (Die Namen) see Appendices of this edition.

LINENOTES:

Title] Song from Lessing M. P., Essays, &c.: From the German of Lessing P. R.: Epigram Keepsake, 1829, Cottle's Early Recollections.

[1]

fair] love Cottle, E. R.

[4]
Iphigenia, Clelia, Chloris,

M. P., Cottle, E. R., P. R.

Neaera, Laura, Daphne, Chloris,

Keepsake.

[5]
Laura, Lesbia, or Doris,

MS. 1799, M. P., Cottle, E. R.

Carina, Lalage, or Doris,

Keepsake.

[6]

Dorimene, or Lucrece, MS. 1799, M. P., Cottle, E. R., P. R., Keepsake.

[8]

Belovéd.] Dear one Keepsake.

[9]

Choose thou] Take thou M. P., P. R.: Take Cottle, E. R.

[10]

Call me Laura, call me Chloris MS. 1799, Keepsake.

[10-11]
Call me Clelia, call me Chloris,
Laura, Lesbia or Doris

M. P., Cottle, E. R.

[10-12]
Clelia, Iphigenia, Chloris,
Laura, Lesbia, Delia, Doris,
But don't forget to call me thine.

P. R.


THE DEVIL'S THOUGHTS[319:1]

I
From his brimstone bed at break of day
A walking the Devil is gone,
To visit his snug little farm the earth,
And see how his stock goes on.
II
Over the hill and over the dale, 5
And he went over the plain,
And backward and forward he switched his long tail
As a gentleman switches his cane.
III
And how then was the Devil drest?
Oh! he was in his Sunday's best: 10
His jacket was red and his breeches were blue,
And there was a hole where the tail came through.
IV
He saw a Lawyer killing a Viper
On a dunghill hard by his own stable;
And the Devil smiled, for it put him in mind 15
Of Cain and his brother, Abel.
V
He saw an Apothecary on a white horse
Ride by on his vocations,
And the Devil thought of his old Friend
Death in the Revelations.[320:1] 20
VI
He saw a cottage with a double coach-house,
A cottage of gentility;
And the Devil did grin, for his darling sin
Is pride that apes humility.
VII
He peep'd into a rich bookseller's shop, 25
Quoth he! we are both of one college!
For I sate myself, like a cormorant, once
Hard by the tree of knowledge.[321:1]
VIII
Down the river did glide, with wind and tide,
A pig with vast celerity; 30
And the Devil look'd wise as he saw how the while,
It cut its own throat. 'There!' quoth he with a smile,
'Goes "England's commercial prosperity."'
IX
As he went through Cold-Bath Fields he saw
A solitary cell; 35
And the Devil was pleased, for it gave him a hint
For improving his prisons in Hell.
X
He saw a Turnkey in a trice
Fetter a troublesome blade;
'Nimbly,' quoth he, 'do the fingers move 40
If a man be but used to his trade.'
XI
He saw the same Turnkey unfetter a man,
With but little expedition,
Which put him in mind of the long debate
On the Slave-trade abolition. 45
XII
He saw an old acquaintance
As he passed by a Methodist meeting;—
She holds a consecrated key,
And the devil nods her a greeting.
XIII
She turned up her nose, and said, 50
'Avaunt! my name's Religion,'
And she looked to Mr. ——
And leered like a love-sick pigeon.
XIV
He saw a certain minister
(A minister to his mind) 55
Go up into a certain House,
With a majority behind.
XV
The Devil quoted Genesis
Like a very learnéd clerk,
How 'Noah and his creeping things 60
Went up into the Ark.'
XVI
He took from the poor,
And he gave to the rich,
And he shook hands with a Scotchman,
For he was not afraid of the —— 65
XVII
General ——[323:1] burning face
He saw with consternation,
And back to hell his way did he take,
For the Devil thought by a slight mistake
It was general conflagration. 70

1799.


FOOTNOTES: