V.-ON READING COLERIDGE'S ETITAPH
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
"Stop, Christian passer-by! stop child of God!
And read with gentle breast;-Beneath this sod
A Poet lies, or that which once seemed he;
Oh! lift one thought in prayer for S. T. C.!
That He, who once in vain, with toil of breath,
Found death in life, may here find life in death.
Mercy, for praise; to be forgiven, for Fame,
He ask'd and hoped through Christ. Do thou the san.e
SPIRIT! So oft in radiant freedom soaring,
High through seraphic mysteries unconfined,
And oft, a diver through the deep of mind,
Its caverns, far below its waves, exploring;
And oft such strains of breezy music pouring,
As, with the floating sweetness of their sighs,
Could still all fevers of the heart, restoring
Awhile that freshness left in Paradise;
Say, of those glorious wanderings what the goal
What the rich fruitage to man's kindred soul
From wealth of thine bequeathed? O strong and nigh, And sceptred intellect! thy goal confess'd
Was the Redeemer's Cross-thy last bequest
One lesson breathing thence profound humility!
VI.-ON THE DATURA ARBOREA.
MAJESTIC plant! such fairy dreams as lie
Nursed, where the bee sucks in the cowslip's bell,
Are not thy train :-those flowers of vase-like swell
Clear, large, with dewy moonlight fill'd from high,
And in their monumental purity
Serenely drooping, round thee seem to draw
Visions link'd strangely with that silent awe
Which broods o'er Sculpture's works.-A meet ally
For those heroic forms, the simply grand
Art thou and worthy, carved by plastic hand,
Above some kingly poet's tomb to shine
In spotless marble; honoring one, whose strain
Soard upon wings of thought that knew no stain
Free through the starry heavens of truth divine.
VII.--DESIGN AND PERFORMANCE.
THEY float before my soul, the fair designs
Which I would body forth to Life and Power,
Like clouds, that with their wavering hues and lines
Portray majestic buildings:-Dome and tower,
Bright spire, that through the rainbow and the shower
Points to th' unchanging stars; and high arcade
RECORDS OF THE AUTUMN OF 1834.
Far-sweeping to some glorious altar, made
For holiest rites:-meanwhile the waning hour
Melts from me, and by fervent dreams o'erwrought,
I sink ;-O friend! O'link'd with each high thought
Aid me, of those rich visions to detain
All I may grasp; until thou see'st fulfill'd,
While time and strength allow, my hope to build
For lowly hearts devout, but one enduring fane!
VIII.-HOPE OF FUTURE COMMUNION WITH NATURE.
IF e'er again my spirit be allow'd
Converse with nature in her chambers deep,
Where lone, and mantled with the rolling cloud,
She broods o'er new-born waters, as they leap
In sword-like flashes down the heathery steep
From caves of mystery ;-if I roam once more
Where dark pines quiver to the torrent's roar,
And voiceful oaks respond ;-shall I not reap
A more ennobling joy, a loftier power,
Than e'er was shed on life's more vernal hour,
From such communion?-yes! I then shall know,
That not in vain have sorrow, love and thought,
Their long still work of preparation wrought,
For that more perfect sense of God reveal❜d below.
IX.-DREAMS OF THE DEAD.
OFT in still night-dreams a departed face
Bends o'er me with sweet earnestness of eye,
Wearing no more of earthly pains a trace,
But all the tender pity that may lie
On the clear brow of Immortality,
Calm, yet profound. Soft rays illume that mien,
Th' unshadow'd moonlight of some far-off sky
Around it floats transparently serene
As a pure veil of waters. O rich sleep!
Thou hast strong spirits in thy regions deep
Which glorify with reconciling breath,
Effacing, brightening, giving forth to shine
Beauty's high truth, and how much more divine
Thy power when link'd in this, with thy stern brother-Death
X.-THE POETRY OF THE PSALMS.
NOBLY thy song, O minstrel! rush'd to meet
Th' Eternal on the pathway of the blast,
With darkness round him, as a mantle, cast,
And cherubim to waft his flying seat;
Amidst the hills that smoked beneath his feet,
With trumpet-voice thy spirit call'd aloud,
And bade the trembling rocks his name repeat,
And the bent cedars, and the bursting cloud.
But far more gloriously to earth made known
By that high strain than by the thunder's tone,
The flashing torrents, or the ocean's roll,
Jehovah spake, through the imbreathing fire,
Nature's vast realms for ever to inspire
With the deep worship of a living soul.
DESPONDENCY AND ASPIRATION.*
"Per correr miglior acqua alza le vele,
Omai la navicella del mio Intelletto."-Dante.
My soul was mantled with dark shadows, born
Of lonely Fear, disquieted in vain:
Its phantoms hung around the star of morn,
A cloud-like weeping train;
Through the long day they dimm'd the autumn gold
On all the glistening leaves; and wildly roll'd,
When the last farewell flush of light was glowing,
Across the sunset sky;
O'er its rich isles of vaporous glory throwing
One melancholy dye.
And when the solemn Night
Came rushing with her might
Of stormy oracles from caves unknown,
Then with each fitful blast
Prophetic murmurs pass'd,
Wakening or answering some deep Sibil tone,
Far buried in my breast, yet prompt to rise
With every gusty wail that o'er the wind-harp flies. "Fold, fold thy wings," they cried, "and strive no more, Faint spirit, strive no more!-for thee too strong
Are outward ill and wrong,
And inward wasting fires!-Thou canst not soar
Free on a starry way
Beyond their blighting sway,
At Heaven's high gate serenely to adore!
How shouldst thou hope Earth's fetters to unbind?
O passionate, yet weak! O trembler to the wind!
"Never shall aught but broken music flow
From joy of thine, deep love, or fearful woe;
Such homeless notes as through the forest sigh,
From the reeds hollow shaken,
When sudden breezes waken
* Partly composed during the Author's last illness.
DESPONDENCY AND ASPIRATION.
Their vague wild symphony:
No power is theirs, and no abiding-place
In human hearts; their sweetness leaves no trace-
Born only so to die!
"Never shall aught but perfume, faint and vain,
On the fleet pinion of the changeful hour,
From thy bruised life again
A moment's essence breathe;
Thy life, whose trampled flower
Into the blessed wreath
Of household charities no longer bound,
Lies pale and withering on the barren ground.
"So fade, fade on! thy gift of love shall cling,
A coiling sadness, round thy heart and brain,
A silent, fruitless, yet undying thing,
And still the shadow of vain dreams shall fall
O'er thy mind's world, a daily darkening pall.
Fold, then, thy wounded wing, and sink subdued,
In cold and unrepining quietude!"
Then my soul yielded; spells of numbing breath
Crept o'er it heavy with a dew of death,
Its powers, like leaves before the night rain, closing;
And, as by conflict of wild sea-waves toss'd
On the chill bosom of some desert coast,
Mutely and hopelessly I lay reposing.
When silently it seem'd
As if a soft mist gleam'd
Before my passive sight, and, slowly curling,
To many a shape and hue
Of vision'd beauty grew,
Like a wrought banner, fold by fold unfurling.
Oh! the rich scenes that o'er mine inward eye
Unrolling then swept by,
With dreamy motion! Silvery seas were there
Lit by large dazzling stars, and arch'd by skies
Of southern midnight's most transparent dyes,
And gemm'd with many an island, wildly fair,
Which floated past me into orient day,
Still gathering lustre on th' illumin'd way,
Till its high groves of wondrous flowering trees
Color'd the silvery seas.
And then a glorious mountain-chain uprose,
Height above spiry height!
A soaring solitude of woods and snows,
All steep'd in golden light!
While as it pass'd, those regal peaks unveiling,
I heard, methought, a waving of dread wings
And mighty sounds, as if the vision hailing,
From lyres that quiver'd through ten thousand strings:
Or as it waters forth to music leaping,
From many a cave, the Alpine Echo's hall,
On their bold way victoriously were sweeping,
Link'd in majestic anthems! while through all
That billowy swell and fall,
Voices, like ringing crystal, fill'd the air
With inarticulate melody, that stirr'd
My being's core; then, moulding into word
Their piercing sweetness, bade me rise and bear
In that great choral strain my trembling part
Of tones, by love and faith struck from a human heart.
Return no more, vain bodings of the night!
A happier oracle within my soul
Hath swell'd to power;-a clear unwavering light
Mounts through the battling clouds that round me roll,
And to a new control
Nature's fu" harp gives forth rejoicing tones,
Wherein my glad sense owns
The accordant rush of elemental sound
To one consummate harmony profound;
One grand Creation Hymn,
Whose notes the seraphim
Lift to the glorious height of music wing'd and crown'd.
Shall not those notes find echoes in my lyre,
Faithful though faint?-Shall not my spirit's fire,
If slowly, yet unswervingly, ascend
Now to its fount and end?
Shall not my earthly love, all purified,
Shine forth a heavenward guide?
An angel of bright power?-and strongly bear
My being upward into holier air,
Where fiery passion-clouds have no abode,
And the sky's temple-arch o'erflows with God?
The radiant hope new-born
Expands like rising morn
In my life's life: and as a ripening rose,
The crimson shadow of its glory throws
More vivid, hour by hour, on some pure stream;
So from that hope are spreading
Rich hues, o'er nature shedding,
Each day, a clearer, spiritual gleam.
Let not those rays fade from me-once enjoy'd,
Father of spirits! let them not depart!
Leaving the chill'd earth, without form and void,
Darken'd by mine own heart!
Lift, aid, sustain me! Thou, by whom alone
All lovely gifts and pure
In the soul's grasp endure;
Thou to the steps of whose eternal throne
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