FOOTNOTES:

[153:1] First published in 1797: included in 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[153:2] ?? p?? ??? ? ???? p??? ?? t?de t? ?????p??? e?de? ?e??s?a?. Plat.

_Phaedon_. Cap. xviii. 72 e.

[154:1] Almost all the followers of Fenelon believe that men are degraded Intelligences who had all once existed together in a paradisiacal or perhaps heavenly state. The first four lines express a feeling which I have often had--the present has appeared like a vivid dream or exact similitude of some past circ.u.mstances. _MS. Letter to Poole_, Nov. 1, 1796.

LINENOTES:

t.i.tle] Sonnet composed on my journey home from Birmingham MS. Letter, 1796: Sonnet ix. To a Friend, &c. 1797: Sonnet xvii. To a Friend, &c.

1803.

[1-11]

Oft of some unknown Past such Fancies roll Swift o'er my brain as make the Present seem For a brief moment like a most strange dream When not unconscious that she dreamt, the soul Questions herself in sleep! and some have said We lived ere yet this fleshly robe we wore.

MS. Letter, 1796.

[6] robe of flesh] fleshy robe 1797, 1803.

[8] art] wert MS. Letter, 1796, 1797, 1803.

SONNET[154:2]

TO A FRIEND WHO ASKED, HOW I FELT WHEN THE NURSE FIRST PRESENTED MY INFANT TO ME

Charles! my slow heart was only sad, when first I scann'd that face of feeble infancy: For dimly on my thoughtful spirit burst All I had been, and all my child might be!

But when I saw it on its mother's arm, 5 And hanging at her bosom (she the while Bent o'er its features with a tearful smile) Then I was thrill'd and melted, and most warm Impress'd a father's kiss: and all beguil'd Of dark remembrance and presageful fear, 10 I seem'd to see an angel-form appear-- 'Twas even thine, beloved woman mild!

So for the mother's sake the child was dear, And dearer was the mother for the child.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[154:2] First published in 1797: included in 1803, _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834. The 'Friend' was, probably, Charles Lloyd.

LINENOTES:

t.i.tle] To a Friend who wished to know, &c. MS. Letter, Nov. 1, 1796: Sonnet x. To a Friend 1797: Sonnet xix. To a Friend, &c. 1803.

[4] child] babe MS. Letter, 1796, 1797, 1803.

[5] saw] watch'd MS. Letter, 1796.

[11] angel-form] Angel's form MS. Letter, 1796, 1797, 1803.

[13] Comforts on his late eve, whose youthful friend. MS. correction by S. T. C. in copy of _Nugae Canorae_ in the British Museum.

SONNET[155:1]

[TO CHARLES LLOYD]

The piteous sobs that choke the Virgin's breath For him, the fair betrothed Youth, who lies Cold in the narrow dwelling, or the cries With which a Mother wails her darling's death, These from our nature's common impulse spring, 5 Unblam'd, unprais'd; but o'er the piled earth Which hides the sheeted corse of grey-hair'd Worth, If droops the soaring Youth with slacken'd wing; If he recall in saddest minstrelsy Each tenderness bestow'd, each truth imprest, 10 Such grief is Reason, Virtue, Piety!

And from the Almighty Father shall descend Comforts on his late evening, whose young breast Mourns with no transient love the Aged Friend.

1796.

FOOTNOTES:

[155:1] First published in _Poems on the Death of Priscilla Farmer_. By her Grandson, 1796, folio. It prefaced the same set of Lloyd's Sonnets included in the second edition of _Poems_ by S. T. Coleridge, 1797. It was included in C. Lloyd's _Nugae Canorae_, 1819. First collected in _P.

and D. W._, 1877-80.

TO A YOUNG FRIEND[155:2]

ON HIS PROPOSING TO DOMESTICATE WITH THE AUTHOR

_Composed in_ 1796

A mount, not wearisome and bare and steep, But a green mountain variously up-piled, Where o'er the jutting rocks soft mosses creep, Or colour'd lichens with slow oozing weep; Where cypress and the darker yew start wild; 5 And, 'mid the summer torrent's gentle dash Dance brighten'd the red cl.u.s.ters of the ash; Beneath whose boughs, by those still sounds beguil'd, Calm Pensiveness might muse herself to sleep; Till haply startled by some fleecy dam, 10 That rustling on the bushy cliff above With melancholy bleat of anxious love, Made meek enquiry for her wandering lamb: Such a green mountain 'twere most sweet to climb, E'en while the bosom ach'd with loneliness-- 15 How more than sweet, if some dear friend should bless The adventurous toil, and up the path sublime Now lead, now follow: the glad landscape round, Wide and more wide, increasing without bound!

O then 'twere loveliest sympathy, to mark 20 The berries of the half-uprooted ash Dripping and bright; and list the torrent's dash,-- Beneath the cypress, or the yew more dark, Seated at ease, on some smooth mossy rock; In social silence now, and now to unlock 25 The treasur'd heart; arm linked in friendly arm, Save if the one, his muse's witching charm Muttering brow-bent, at unwatch'd distance lag; Till high o'er head his beckoning friend appears, And from the forehead of the topmost crag 30 Shouts eagerly: for haply _there_ uprears That shadowing Pine its old romantic limbs, Which latest shall detain the enamour'd sight Seen from below, when eve the valley dims, Tinged yellow with the rich departing light; 35 And haply, bason'd in some unsunn'd cleft, A beauteous spring, the rock's collected tears, Sleeps shelter'd there, scarce wrinkled by the gale!

Together thus, the world's vain turmoil left, Stretch'd on the crag, and shadow'd by the pine, 40 And bending o'er the clear delicious fount, Ah! dearest youth! it were a lot divine To cheat our noons in moralising mood, While west-winds fann'd our temples toil-bedew'd: Then downwards slope, oft pausing, from the mount, 45 To some lone mansion, in some woody dale, Where smiling with blue eye, Domestic Bliss Gives _this_ the Husband's, _that_ the Brother's kiss!

Thus rudely vers'd in allegoric lore, The Hill of Knowledge I essayed to trace; 50 That verdurous hill with many a resting-place, And many a stream, whose warbling waters pour To glad, and fertilise the subject plains; That hill with secret springs, and nooks untrod, And many a fancy-blest and holy sod 55 Where Inspiration, his diviner strains Low-murmuring, lay; and starting from the rock's Stiff evergreens, (whose spreading foliage mocks Want's barren soil, and the bleak frosts of age, And Bigotry's mad fire-invoking rage!) 60 O meek retiring spirit! we will climb, Cheering and cheered, this lovely hill sublime; And from the stirring world up-lifted high (Whose noises, faintly wafted on the wind, To quiet musings shall attune the mind, 65 And oft the melancholy _theme_ supply), There, while the prospect through the gazing eye Pours all its healthful greenness on the soul, We'll smile at wealth, and learn to smile at fame, Our hopes, our knowledge, and our joys the same, 70 As neighbouring fountains image each the whole: Then when the mind hath drunk its fill of truth We'll discipline the heart to pure delight, Rekindling sober joy's domestic flame.

They whom I love shall love thee, honour'd youth! 75 Now may Heaven realise this vision bright!

1796.

FOOTNOTES: