He heard the last shriek of the perishing souls-
See! see! o'er the topmast the mad water rolls!

Right glad was the Raven, and off he went fleet, And Death riding home on a cloud he did meet, And he thank'd him again and again for this treat: They had taken his all, and REVENGE IT WAS SWEET!

1797.

TO AN UNFORTUNATE WOMAN

AT THE THEATRE 1

MAIDEN, that with sullen brow
Sitt'st behind those virgins gay,
Like a scorch'd and mildew'd bough,
Leafless 'mid the blooms of May!
Him who lur'd thee and forsook,
Oft I watch'd with angry gaze,
Fearful saw his pleading look,

Anxious heard his fervid phrase.

40

5

1 First published in the Morning Post, December 7, 1797: included in the Annual Anthology, 1800, in Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

MS. sent to Cottle, see E. R. 1834, i. 213, 214.

For

39 He heard the sea-shriek of their perishing souls M. P., An. Anth., MS. S. T. C.

40-4 They be sunk! O'er the topmast the mad water rolls

The Raven was glad that such fate they did meet.

They had taken his all and Revenge was SWEET. M. P., An. Anth. 41 Very glad was the Raven, this fate 42-3 om. MS. S. T. C.

40 See she sinks MS. S. T. C.

they did meet MS. S. T. C.

was sweet. An. Anth., MS. S. T. C., S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829. After 1. 44, two lines were added in Sibylline Leaves, 1817 :—

We must not think so; but forget and forgive,

44 Revenge

And what Heaven gives life to, we'll still let it live.*

* Added thro' cowardly fear of the Goody! What a Hollow, where the Heart of Faith ought to be, does it not betray? this alarm concerning Christian morality, that will not permit even a Raven to be a Raven, nor a Fox a Fox, but demands conventicular justice to be inflicted on their unchristian conduct, or at least an antidote to be annexed. MS. Note by S.T.C. To an Unfortunate Woman at the Theatre-Title] To an Unfortunate Woman in the Back Seats of the Boxes at the Theatre M. P.: To an Unfortunate Young Woman whom I had known in the days of her Innocence MS. sent to Cottle, E. R. i. 213: To an Unfortunate Woman whom the Author knew in the days of her Innocence. Composed at the I Maiden] Sufferer An. Anth.

Theatre An. Anth. 1800.

In place of 5-12 Inly gnawing, thy distresses

Mock those starts of wanton glee;
And thy inmost soul confesses

Chaste Affection's [affliction's An. Anth.] majesty.

MS. Cottle, An. Anth.

1797.

Soft the glances of the Youth,

Soft his speech, and soft his sigh;
But no sound like simple Truth,

But no true love in his eye.

Loathing thy polluted lot,

Hie thee, Maiden, hie thee hence!
Seek thy weeping Mother's cot,

With a wiser innocence.

Thou hast known deceit and folly,
Thou hast felt that Vice is woe:
With a musing melancholy

Inly arm'd, go, Maiden! go.

Mother sage of Self-dominion,

Firm thy steps, O Melancholy!

The strongest plume in Wisdom's pinion
Is the memory of past folly.

Mute the sky-lark and forlorn,

While she moults the firstling plumes,
That had skimm'd the tender corn,

Or the beanfield's odorous blooms.

Soon with renovated wing

Shall she dare a loftier flight,
Upward to the Day-Star spring,
And embathe in heavenly light.

TO AN UNFORTUNATE WOMAN1

WHOM THE AUTHOR HAD KNOWN IN THE DAYS
OF HER INNOCENCE

MYRTLE-LEAF that, ill besped,
Pinest in the gladsome ray,
Soil'd beneath the common tread

Far from thy protecting spray!

ΤΟ

15

20

25

30

1 Frst published in 1797: included in 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

14 Maiden] Sufferer An, Anth.

25 sky-lark] Lavrac MS. Cottle, An. Anth.

M. P., An. Anth.

22 Firm are thy steps M. P. 26 the] those MS. Cottle, 31 Upwards to the

27 Which late had M. P.

day star sing MS. Cottle, An. Anth.

Stanzas ii, iii, v, vi are not in MS. Cottle nor in the Annual Anthology.

To an Unfortunate Woman whom, &c.—Title] Allegorical Lines on the Same Subject MS. Cottle.

1797.

When the Partridge o'er the sheaf
Whirr'd along the yellow vale,
Sad I saw thee, heedless leaf!
Love the dalliance of the gale.

Lightly didst thou, foolish thing!
Heave and flutter to his sighs,
While the flatterer, on his wing,
Woo'd and whisper'd thee to rise.
Gaily from thy mother-stalk

Wert thou danc'd and wafted high-
Soon on this unshelter'd walk

Flung to fade, to rot and die.

TO THE REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE1

OF OTTERY ST. MARY, DEVON

With some Poems

Notus in fratres animi paterni.

HOR. Carm. lib. 1. 2.

A BLESSED lot hath he, who having passed
His youth and early manhood in the stir
And turmoil of the world, retreats at length,
With cares that move, not agitate the heart,
To the same dwelling where his father dwelt;

5

If

1 First published as the Dedication to the Poems of 1797: included in 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834. In a copy of the Poems of 1797, formerly in the possession of the late Mr. Frederick Locker-Lampson, Coleridge affixed the following note to the Dedication-' N. B. this volume should ever be delivered according to its direction, i. e. to Posterity, let it be known that the Reverend George Coleridge was displeased and thought his character endangered by the Dedication.'— S. T. Coleridge. Note to P. and D. W., 1877–80, i. 163.

5

When the scythes-man o'er his sheaf
Caroll'd in the yellow vale MS. Cottle.
When the rustic o'er his sheaf

Caroll'd in, &c. 1797.

[Note. The text of Stanza ii dates from 1803.]

9 foolish] poor fond MS. Cottle. 15 Soon upon this sheltered walk, MS. Cottle, Second Version. 16 to fade, and rot, MS. Cottle.

To the Rev. George Coleridge-Motto] lib. 1. 2 S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834.

And haply views his tottering little ones
Embrace those agéd knees and climb that lap,
On which first kneeling his own infancy

Lisp'd its brief prayer. Such, O my earliest Friend!
Thy lot, and such thy brothers too enjoy.
At distance did ye climb Life's upland road,
Yet cheer'd and cheering: now fraternal love
Hath drawn you to one centre. Be your days
Holy, and blest and blessing may ye live!

To me the 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
Dropped 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,
Mix'd 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 the impervious covert of one oak,
I've rais'd a lowly shed, and know the names
Of Husband and of Father; not unhearing
Of that divine and nightly-whispering Voice,
Which from my childhood to maturer years
Spake to me of predestinated wreaths,
Bright with no fading colours!

Yet at times

My soul is sad, that I have roam'd through life
Still most a stranger, most with naked heart

Io Thine and thy Brothers' favourable lot. 1803.

1803.

33-4

ΙΟ

15

20

25

30

35

40

23 and] or 1797,

30 That I woke prison'd! But (the praise be His 1803.
I as beneath the covert of an oak
Have rais'd 1803.

35 not] nor 1797, 1803, S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829.

At mine own home and birth-place: chiefly then,
When I remember thee, my earliest Friend!
Thee, who didst watch my boyhood and my youth;
Didst trace my wanderings with a father's eye;
And boding evil yet still hoping good,
Rebuk'd each fault, and over all my woes

Sorrow'd in silence! He who counts alone
The beatings of the solitary heart,

That Being knows, how I have lov'd thee ever,
Lov'd as a brother, as a son rever'd thee!
Oh! 'tis to me an ever new delight,

To talk of thee and thine: or when the blast

45

50

Of the shrill winter, rattling our rude sash,
Endears the cleanly hearth and social bowl;
Or when, as now, on some delicious eve,
We in our sweet sequester'd orchard-plot

55

Sit on the tree crook'd earth-ward; whose old boughs,
That hang above us in an arborous roof,
Stirr'd by the faint gale of departing May,

60

Send their loose blossoms slanting o'er our heads!

Nor dost not thou sometimes recall those hours,
When with the joy of hope thou gavest thine ear
To my wild firstling-lays. Since then my song
Hath sounded deeper notes, such as beseem
Or that sad wisdom folly leaves behind,
Or such as, tuned to these tumultuous times,
Cope with the tempest's swell!

These various strains,

Which I have fram'd in many a various mood,
Accept, my Brother! and (for some perchance
Will strike discordant on thy milder mind)
If aught of error or intemperate truth

Should meet thine ear, think thou that riper Age
Will calm it down, and let thy love forgive it!

NETHER-STOWEY, SOMERSET, May 26, 1797.

47-9 Rebuk'd each fault, and wept o'er all my woes. Who counts the beatings of the lonely heart 1797, 1803. Between 52-3 My eager eye glist'ning with memry's tear 1797. thou] thou all editions to 1834. prophetic Faith 1797, 1808.

65

70

62

Between 66-7 Or the high raptures of 68 strains] songs 1797, 1803.