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Then eyed our Cottage, and gazed round again, And sigh’d, and said, it was a Blessed Place. And we were blessed. Oft with patient ear Long-listening to the viewless sky-lark's note (Viewless, or haply for a moment seen Gleaming on sunny wing) in whisper'd tones I've said to my beloved, “Such, sweet girl!" “ The inobstrusive song of Happiness, “ Unearthly minstrelsy! then only heard “ When the soul seeks to hear; when all is hush'd, “ And the Heart listens !"
But the time, when first From that low Dell, steep up the stony Mount I climb’d with perilous toil and reach'd the top, Oh! what a goodly scene! Here the bleak Mount, The bare bleak Mountain speckled thin with sheep; Grey clouds, that shadowing spot the sunny fields; And River, now with bushy rocks o’erbrow'd, Now winding bright and full, with naked banks; And Seats, and Lawns, the Abbey, and the Wood, And Cots, and Hamlets, and faint City-spire : The Channel there, the Islands and white Sails,
Dim Coasts, and cloud-like Hills, and shoreless Ocean-
Ah! quiet dell! dear cot! and mount sublime ! I was constrain’d to quit you. Was it right, While my unnumber'd brethren toild and bled, That I should dream away th' entrusted hours On rose-leaf Beds, pampering the coward Heart With feelings all too delicate for use ? Sweet is the tear that from some Howard's eye Drops on the cheek of One, he lifts from Earth : And He, that works me good with unmov'd face, Does it but half: he chills me while he aids, My Benefactor, not my Brother Man! Yet even this, this cold Beneficence Seizes my Praise, when I reflect on those, The Sluggard Pity's vision-weaving Tribe ! Who sigh for Wretchedness, yet shun the Wretched, Nursing in some delicious solitude Their slothful loves and dainty Sympathies !
I therefore go, and join head, heart, and hand,
Yet oft when after honorable toil Rests the tir'd mind, and waking loves to dream, My spirit shall revisit thee, dear Cot! Thy Jasmin and thy window-peeping Rose, And Myrtles fearless of the mild sea-air. And I shall sigh fond wishes-sweet Abode ! Ah !—had none greater ! And that all had such ! It might be so-but the time is not yet. Speed it, O Father! Let thy Kingdom come!
THE REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE,
Of Ottery St. Mary, Devon.
WITH SOME POEMS.
Notus in fratres animi paterni.
HOR. Carm. Lib. I. 2.
A BLESSED lot hath he, who having past
Hath drawn you to one centre. Be your days
To me th' Eternal Wisdom hath dispens'd A different fortune and more different mind Me from the spot where first I sprang to light, Too soon transplanted, ere my soul had fix'd Its first domestic loves; and hence through Life Chasing chance-started Friendships. A brief while Some have preserv'd me from Life's pelting ills; . But, like a Tree with leaves of feeble stem, If the clouds lasted, and a sudden breeze Ruffled the boughs, they on my head at once Dropt the collected shower; and some most false, False and fair foliag'd as the Manchineel, Have tempted me to slumber in their shade E’en mid the storm ; then breathing subtlest damps, Mixt their own venom with the rain from Heaven, That I woke poison'd! But, all praise to Him Who gives us all things, more have yielded me Permanent shelter; and beside one Friend, Beneath th' impervious covert of one Oak, I've raised a lowly shed, and know the names