The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume II Part 211

[1079:1] Tairn, a small lake, generally, if not always, applied to the lakes up in the mountains, and which are the feeders of those in the vallies. This address to the wind will not appear extravagant to those who have heard it at night, in a mountainous country. [Note in _M. P._]

LINENOTES:

[2] grand] dear Letter to S.

[5] those] that Letter to S. cloud] clouds Letter to S.

[12] by] with Letter to S.

[17-20] om. Letter to S.

[22] stifled] stifling Letter to S.

[Between 24 and 25]

This William, well thou knowest, Is that sore evil which I dread the most, And oftnest suffer. In this heartless mood, To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd, That pipes within the larch-tree, not unseen, The larch, that pushes out in ta.s.sels green Its bundled leafits, woo'd to mild delights, By all the tender sounds and gentle sights, Of this sweet primrose-month, and vainly woo'd O dearest Poet, in this heartless mood.

Letter to S.

[37] a lovely sky-canoe] thy own sweet sky-canoe Letter to S. [_Note._ The reference is to the Prologue to 'Peter Bell'.]

[48] Edmund] Wordsworth Letter to S.

[58] potent] powerful Letter to S.

[65] virtuous Edmund] blameless poet Letter to S.

[67] Edmund] William Letter to S.

[71] om. Letter to S.

[74] the echoes] an echo Letter to S.

[76] Edmund] poet Letter to S.

[77] that] when Letter to S.

[78] This] The Letter to S.

[82] fruits] fruit Letter to S.

After 87 six lines 'For not to think', &c., are inserted after a row of asterisks. The direction as to the omission of the Sixth and Seventh Stanzas is only found in the M. P.

[88] O] Nay Letter to S.

[93] That lute sent out! O thou wild storm without Letter to S.

[98] who] that Letter to S.

[106] of] from Letter to S.

[109] Again! but all that noise Letter to S.

[111] And it has other sounds, less fearful and less loud Letter to S.

[114] Edmund's self] thou thyself Letter to S.

[120-8] om. Letter to S.

[129-39]

Calm steadfast spirit, guided from above, O Wordsworth! friend of my devoutest choice, Great son of genius! full of light and love, Thus, thus, dost thou rejoice.

To thee do all things live, from pole to pole, Their life the eddying of thy living Soul!

Brother and friend of my devoutest choice, Thus may'st thou ever, evermore rejoice!

Letter to S.

[_Note._ In the letter these lines follow line 75 of the text of the _M.

P._]

L

TO W. WORDSWORTH[1081:1]

(_Vide ante_, p. 403.)

LINES COMPOSED, FOR THE GREATER PART ON THE NIGHT, ON WHICH HE FINISHED THE RECITATION OF HIS POEM (IN THIRTEEN BOOKS) CONCERNING THE GROWTH AND HISTORY OF HIS OWN MIND

JAN{RY}, 1807. COLE-ORTON, NEAR ASHBY DE LA ZOUCH.

O friend! O Teacher! G.o.d's great Gift to me!

Into my heart have I receiv'd that Lay, More than historic, that prophetic Lay, Wherein (high theme by Thee first sung aright) Of the Foundations and the Building-up 5 Of thy own Spirit, thou hast lov'd to tell What may be told, to th' understanding mind Revealable; and what within the mind May rise enkindled. Theme as hard as high!

Of Smiles spontaneous, and mysterious Feard; 10 (The First-born they of Reason, and Twin-birth) Of Tides obedient to external Force, And _currents_ self-determin'd, as might seem, Or by interior Power: of Moments aweful, Now in thy hidden Life; and now abroad, 15 Mid festive Crowds, _thy_ Brows too garlanded, A Brother of the Feast: of _Fancies_ fair, Hyblaean Murmurs of poetic Thought, Industrious in its Joy, by lilied Streams Native or outland, Lakes and famous Hills! 20 Of more than Fancy, of the Hope of Man Amid the tremor of a Realm aglow-- Where France in all her Towns lay vibrating, Ev'n as a Bark becalm'd on sultry seas Beneath the voice from Heaven, the bursting Crash 25 Of Heaven's immediate thunder! when no Cloud Is visible, or Shadow on the Main!

Ah! soon night roll'd on night, and every Cloud Open'd its eye of Fire: and Hope aloft Now flutter'd, and now toss'd upon the Storm 30 Floating! Of Hope afflicted, and struck down, Thence summon'd homeward--homeward to thy Heart, Oft from the Watch-tower of Man's absolute Self, With Light unwaning on her eyes, to look Far on--herself a Glory to behold, 35 The Angel of the Vision! Then (last strain!) Of _Duty_, chosen Laws controlling choice, Virtue and Love! An Orphic Tale indeed, A Tale divine of high and pa.s.sionate Thoughts To their own music chaunted!

Ah great Bard! 40 Ere yet that last Swell dying aw'd the Air, With stedfast ken I view'd thee in the Choir Of ever-enduring Men. The truly Great Have all one Age, and from one visible s.p.a.ce Shed influence: for they, both power and act, 45 Are permanent, and Time is not with them, Save as it worketh for them, they in it.

Nor less a sacred Roll, than those of old, And to be plac'd, as they, with gradual fame Among the Archives of mankind, thy Work 50 Makes audible a linked Song of Truth, Of Truth profound a sweet continuous Song Not learnt, but native, her own natural Notes!

Dear shall it be to every human Heart.

To me how more than dearest! Me, on whom 55 Comfort from Thee and utterance of thy Love Came with such heights and depths of Harmony Such sense of Wings uplifting, that the Storm Scatter'd and whirl'd me, till my Thoughts became A bodily Tumult! and thy faithful Hopes, 60 Thy Hopes of me, dear Friend! by me unfelt Were troublous to me, almost as a Voice Familiar once and more than musical To one cast forth, whose hope had seem'd to die, A Wanderer with a worn-out heart, [_sic_] 65 Mid Strangers pining with untended Wounds!

O Friend! too well thou know'st, of what sad years The long suppression had benumb'd my soul, That even as Life returns upon the Drown'd, Th' unusual Joy awoke a throng of Pains-- 70 Keen Pangs of LOVE, awakening, as a Babe, Turbulent, with an outcry in the Heart: And Fears self-will'd, that shunn'd the eye of Hope, And Hope, that would not know itself from Fear: Sense of pa.s.s'd Youth, and Manhood come in vain; 75 And Genius given, and knowledge won in vain; And all, which I had cull'd in Wood-walks wild, And all, which patient Toil had rear'd, and all, Commune with Thee had open'd out, but Flowers Strew'd on my Corse, and borne upon my Bier, 80 In the same Coffin, for the self-same Grave!

That way no more! and ill beseems it me, Who came a Welcomer in Herald's guise Singing of Glory and Futurity, To wander back on such unhealthful Road 85 Plucking the Poisons of Self-harm! and ill Such Intertwine beseems triumphal wreaths Strew'd before thy Advancing! Thou too, Friend!

O injure not the memory of that Hour Of thy communion with my n.o.bler mind 90 By pity or grief, already felt too long!