The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge - novelonlinefull.com
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That such a patch as Barnard should have had The Honour to have sav'd our General's life.
That Barnard! that mock-man! that clumsy forgery Of Heaven's Image. Any other heart But mine own would have turn'd splenetic to think of it.
MS. erased.
[269] an empa.s.sion'd S. L.: empa.s.sioned 1834.
[276] unkindling] unkindly S. L., 1834.
[281] open] opens S. L.
[285] the] that. a] that S. L. (corr. in Errata, p. [xi]) S. L.
[288] o'er] near S. L. (corr. in Errata, p. [xi]) S. L.
[289-290]
No leaflet stirr'd; the air was almost sultry; So deep, so dark, so close, the umbrage o'er us!
No leaflet stirr'd, yet pleasure hung upon
S. L.
[310] Cheek] Ear S. L.
[After 312]
Deep repose of bliss we lay No other than as Eastern Sages gloss, The G.o.d who floats upon a Lotos leaf Dreams for a thousand ages, then awaking Creates a World, then loathing the dull task Relapses into blessedness, when an omen Screamed from the Watch-tower--'twas the Watchman's cry, And Oropeza starting.
MS. (alternative reading).
[313] feign] paint S. L.
[Before 314] Sandoval (_with a sarcastic smile_) S. L.
[314-16] Compare Letter to Thelwall, Oct. 16, 1797, Letters of S. T. C., 1895, i. 229.]
[317]
bliss.--
_Earl Henry._ Ah! was that bliss
S. L.
[319] intolerant] impatient S. L.
[325] unity and] purpose and the S. L.
[After 327]
Even as a Herdsboy mutely plighting troth Gives his true Love a Lily for a Rose.
MS. erased.
[334] Inquisition] keen inquiry S. L.
[Before 335]
Earl Henry thou art dear to me--perchance For these follies; since the Health of Reason, Our would-be Sages teach, engenders not The Whelks and Tumours of particular Friendship.
MS. erased.
[339] Heaven to Earth] Earth to Heaven S. L.
J
CHAMOUNY; THE HOUR BEFORE SUNRISE
A HYMN
[Vide _ante_, p. 376.]
[As published in _The Morning Post_, Sept. 11, 1802]
Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star In his steep course--so long he seems to pause On thy bald awful head, O Chamouny!
The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Eave ceaselessly; but thou, dread mountain form, 5 Resist from forth thy silent sea of pines How silently! Around thee, and above, Deep is the sky, and black: transpicuous, deep, An ebon ma.s.s! Methinks thou piercest it As with a wedge! But when I look again, 10 It seems thy own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity.
O dread and silent form! I gaz'd upon thee, Till thou, still present to my bodily eye, Did'st vanish from my thought. Entranc'd in pray'r, 15 I worshipp'd the INVISIBLE alone.
Yet thou, meantime, wast working on my soul, E'en like some deep enchanting melody, So sweet, we know not, we are list'ning to it.
But I awoke, and with a busier mind, 20 And active will self-conscious, offer now Not, as before, involuntary pray'r And pa.s.sive adoration!-- Hand and voice, Awake, awake! and thou, my heart, awake!
Awake ye rocks! Ye forest pines, awake! 25 Green fields, and icy cliffs! All join my hymn!
And thou, O silent mountain, sole and bare, O blacker, than the darkness, all the night, And visited, all night, by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink-- 30 Companion of the morning star at dawn, Thyself Earth's rosy star, and of the dawn Co-herald! Wake, O wake, and utter praise!
Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in earth?
Who fill'd thy countenance with rosy light? 35 Who made thee father of perpetual streams?
And you, ye five wild torrents, fiercely glad, Who call'd you forth from Night and utter Death?
From darkness let you loose, and icy dens, Down those precipitous, black, jagged rocks 40 For ever shatter'd, and the same for ever!
Who gave you your invulnerable life, Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, Unceasing thunder, and eternal foam!
And who commanded, and the silence came-- 45 'Here shall the billows stiffen, and have rest?'
Ye ice-falls! ye that from yon dizzy heights Adown enormous ravines steeply slope, Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopp'd at once amid their maddest plunge! 50 Motionless torrents! silent cataracts!
Who made you glorious, as the gates of Heav'n, Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who with lovely flow'rs Of living blue spread garlands at your feet? 55 G.o.d! G.o.d! The torrents like a shout of nations, Utter! The ice-plain bursts, and answers G.o.d!
G.o.d, sing the meadow-streams with gladsome voice, And pine groves with their soft, and soul-like sound, The silent snow-ma.s.s, loos'ning, thunders G.o.d! 60 Ye dreadless flow'rs! that fringe th' eternal frost!
Ye wild goats, bounding by the eagle's nest!
Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain blast!
Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds!
Ye signs and wonders of the element, 65 Utter forth, G.o.d! and fill the hills with praise!
