The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume I Part 103

[302:1] According to the common superst.i.tion there are two ways of fighting with the Devil. You may cut him in half with a straw, or he will vanish if you spit over his horns with a fasting spittle. _Note by S. T. C. in M. P._ According to the superst.i.tion of the West-Countries, if you meet the Devil, you may either cut him in half with a straw, or force him to disappear by spitting over his horns. _An. Anth._, _S. L._

LINENOTES:

[3] turn'd out] loosen'd M. P.

[9] ox] beast M. P.

[19] beast] ox M. P.

[22] fastens] fasten'd M. P.

[27] 'You cruel dog!' at once they bawl. M. P.

[31] Oh] Ah! M. P., An. Anth.

[35-6] om. Essays, &c.

[38] run] drive M. P.

[39] fiend] rogue M. P.

[42] Mat, Tom, Bob, d.i.c.k M. P.

[49] The baited ox drove on M. P., An. Anth.

[50] No . . . print] The Gospel scarce M. P., An. Anth.

[53] cannot] could M. P.

[55] The ox drove on, right through the town M. P.

[62] may] might M. P., An. Anth.

[68] any] a mad M. P.

[70] heat and fright] flight and fear M. P., An. Anth.

[71] this] the M. P.

[73] beast] ox M. P.

[75] agree] agreed M. P.

[83] scour'd] drove M. P.

[91] Alas] Alack M. P.

[99] cried] bawl'd M. P.

[103] Tom! Walter! Mat! M. P.

[109] _lying_] _bare-faced_ M. P.

[115] But lo! to interrupt my chat M. P.

[119] In came] In rush'd M. P.

[122] And he rush'd in M. P.

[125-6]

That Tierney's wounded Mister PITT, And his fine tongue enchanted!

M. P.

HEXAMETERS[304:1]

William, my teacher, my friend! dear William and dear Dorothea!

Smooth out the folds of my letter, and place it on desk or on table; Place it on table or desk; and your right hands loosely half-closing,[304:2]

Gently sustain them in air, and extending the digit didactic, Rest it a moment on each of the forks of the five-forked left hand, 5 Twice on the breadth of the thumb, and once on the tip of each finger; Read with a nod of the head in a humouring recitativo; And, as I live, you will see my hexameters hopping before you.

This is a galloping measure; a hop, and a trot, and a gallop!

All my hexameters fly, like stags pursued by the stag-hounds, 10 Breathless and panting, and ready to drop, yet flying still onwards,[304:3]

I would full fain pull in my hard-mouthed runaway hunter; But our English Spondeans are clumsy yet impotent curb-reins; And so to make him go slowly, no way left have I but to lame him.

William, my head and my heart! dear Poet that feelest and thinkest! 15 Dorothy, eager of soul, my most affectionate sister!

Many a mile, O! many a wearisome mile are ye distant, Long, long comfortless roads, with no one eye that doth know us.

O! it is all too far to send you mockeries idle: Yea, and I feel it not right! But O! my friends, my beloved! 20 Feverish and wakeful I lie,--I am weary of feeling and thinking.

Every thought is worn _down_, I am weary yet cannot be vacant.

Five long hours have I tossed, rheumatic heats, dry and flushing, Gnawing behind in my head, and wandering and throbbing about me, Busy and tiresome, my friends, as the beat of the boding night-spider.[305:1] 25

_I forget the beginning of the line:_

. . . my eyes are a burthen, Now unwillingly closed, now open and aching with darkness.

O! what a life is the eye! what a strange and inscrutable essence!

Him that is utterly blind, nor glimpses the fire that warms him; Him that never beheld the swelling breast of his mother; 30 Him that smiled in his gladness as a babe that smiles in its slumber; Even for him it exists, it moves and stirs in its prison; Lives with a separate life, and 'Is it a Spirit?' he murmurs: 'Sure it has thoughts of its own, and to see is only a language.'

_There was a great deal more, which I have forgotten. . . . The last line which I wrote, I remember, and write it for the truth of the sentiment, scarcely less true in company than in pain and solitude:--_

William, my head and my heart! dear William and dear Dorothea! 35 You have all in each other; but I am lonely, and want you!

1798-9.