ΤΟ

S. T. COLERIDGE, Esq.

It is not with a hope my feeble praise

Can add one moment's honour to thy own, That with thy mighty name I grace these lays;

I seek to glorify myself alone:

For that some precious favour thou hast shown

To my endeavour in a by-gone time,

And by this token, I would have it known

Thou art my friend, and friendly to my rhyme! It is my dear ambition now to climb

Still higher in thy thought, if my bold pen
May thrust on contemplations more sublime.-
But I am thirsty for thy praise, for when
We gain applauses from the great in name,
We seem to be partakers of their fame.

HERO AND LEANDER.

I.

OH Bards of old! what sorrows have ye sung,

And tragic stories, chronicled in stone,
Sad Philomel restor❜d her ravish'd tongue,

And transform'd Niobe in dumbness shown;

Sweet Sappho on her love for ever calls,

And Hero on the drown'd Leander falls!

II.

Was it that spectacles of sadder plights,

Should make our blisses relish the more high?

Then all fair dames, and maidens, and true knights, Whose flourish'd fortunes prosper in Love's eye,

Weep here, unto a tale of ancient grief,

Trac'd from the course of an old bas-relief.

III.

There stands Abydos! - here is Sestos' steep,
Hard by the gusty margin of the sea,

Where sprinkling waves continually do leap;
And that is where those famous lovers be,
A builded gloom shot up into the grey,

As if the first tall watch-tow'r of the day.

IV.

Lo! how the lark soars upward and is

gone;

Turning a spirit as he nears the sky,

His voice is heard, though body there is none, And rain-like music scatters from on high;

But Love would follow with a falcon spite,

To pluck the minstrel from his dewy height.

V.

For Love hath fram'd a ditty of regrets,
Tun'd to the hollow sobbings on the shore,
A vexing sense, that with like music frets,
And chimes this dismal burthen o'er and o'er,
Saying, Leander's joys are past and spent,
Like stars extinguish'd in the firmament.