BIRTH OF THE LYRE. Down, down through by-gone ages, The pine on mountain steep, To bard brought forth the shell, Who stretched the chords most willing He told to nymphs around Claimed lyrics all their own; That touched the hallowed strings? Go ask the trees and flowers, The mountains, rocks and springs. The answer!" None have left us; The lyre her bard holds dear, While heart and wave have motion The soul of song is here." THE EDEN GOD HATH MADE. THE artist culls from wood and glade, Untutored eyes look long, and find An inspiration drawn, That glads the skies, the woods, the fields, With tints before unknown. Father and son together blend Their gift of rarest good, And lead our thoughts, akin to theirs, Drawn up to Nature's God. Oh painting! purest, tend'rest touch, Still keep our Eden free; Sculpture and Poetry must yield Fame's greenest palm to thee. SWEET FORGET-ME-NOT. SWEET "Forget-me-not" under the snow, Deem not thy perfume was lost on the breeze, ease; Flower still sacred to memory dear, Of light and of shadow, of smile and of tear. Many the friends low buried from sight, Still "Forget-me-not," softly we hear; BARK, THE FRAILEST ON THE SEA. BARK, the frailest on the sea, "My bark is laden deep with love, "My bark, the frailest on the sea SPRING. The sweet little buds from their soft wrapping peep, And deeply enfolded their blandishments keep; Forgetting, no doubt, in the years that have passed They just such rare fragrance around us have cast. -Beautiful Spring. C SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. OLERIDGE, the metaphysician, as he has been called, was born in 1773, in Ottery St. Mary, Devonshire, England, the son of a clergyman. He received his education at Jesus College, and at Christ's Hospital. Upon his leaving college he enlisted as a common soldier in the dragoons, taking the name of Comberback. He did not long remain, however, and in connection with this, an interesting anecdote is related. He was first known to the public by some lines inserted in Southey's "Joan of Arc," and when in 1796 a collection of his poems were published, he at once became famous. His drama, "The Fall of Robespierre," came out soon after, followed by his "Ode to the Departing Year," and "Years in Solitude," (1798). About that time he was introduced to Southey and Lovell, when the three started in to revolutionize the world by a series of lectures, beginning at Bristol, with Coleridge's lecture on the happiness of the human race, by means of republicanism. These lectures, which at first were enthusiastically received, lost their popularity and were discontinued. Another volume of poems appeared at this time, and proving a financial success, Coleridge decided to appropriate those funds to the propagation of his theory in America, under the name of Pantisocracy. Alas! cupid, in the disguise of the Frick sisters, here interfered and left America to darkness. Fortunately the Frick sisters numbered three, and the trio, Coleridge, Southey and Lovell, were brought into closer relation by marriage ties. With greater demands upon his purse, Coleridge found difficulty in making his pen provide sufficient for his needs, and the result was financial embarrassment, from which he was most fortunately relieved by the celebrated Mr. Wedgewood, who enabled him to complete his studies in Germany. After his return home, he wrote the leading articles for the Morning Post, translated some dramas of Schiller's, and accompanied Sir Alexander Ball, as secretary, to Malta. On his return from Malta, he produced a tragedy called "Remorse," which raised him to a much higher altitude of fame than any of his preceeding productions. He now took up his residence on the borders of one of the lakes in Cumberland and here was written "Chistabel." For nineteen years previous to his death, Coleridge resided in Hampstead with two old and valued friends; and here, one Friday in July, 1834, he breathed his last, and was laid to rest in the vault of Highgate Church, on the 2nd of August. His last days, though full of suffering, were abundantly blessed of God. His prayer, that God would not withdraw His Spirit, and that he might be able to evince his faith in Christ, was fully answered. His preparations for death were made long in advance, and his dying wish, that he might be as little interrupted as possible, was fully complied with. A handsome tablet has been erected in Highgate New Church, to his memory. N. L. M. REFLECTIONS. ON HAVING LEFT A PLACE OF RETIREMENT. But the time, when first Ocean It seemed like omnipresence! God, methought, Ah quiet dell! dead cot! and mount sublime! Sweet is the tear that from some Howard's eye Who sigh for wretchedness, yet shun the wretched, Their slothful loves and dainty sympathies! I therefore go, and join head, heart and hand, Rests the tired mind, and waking loves to dream, THE COMPLAINT OF NINATHOMA. How long will ye round me be swelling, Nor beneath the cold blast of the tree. And they blessed the white-bosomed maid! A ghost! by my cavern it darted! In moon-beams the spirit was drest- When they visit the dreams of my rest! THE ROSE. As late each flower that sweetest blows I plucked, the garden's pride! Within the petals of a rose A sleeping Love I spied. Around his brows a beamy wreath Of many a lucent hue; All purple glowed his cheek, beneath, Inebriate with dew. I softly seized th' unguarded power, And placed him, caged within the flower, But when unweeting of the guile Ah! soon the soul-entrancing sight He gazed! he thrilled with deep delight! And oh! he cried-'Of magic kind What charms this throne endear! Some other Love let Venus findI'll fix my empire here.' KISSES. CUPID, if storying legends tell aright, glow, And hope, the blameless parasite of woe. Pours the soft murmuring of responsive love. RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER. PART FOURTH. "I FEAR thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand. "I fear thee, and thy glittering eye, Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide, wide sea! And never a saint took pity on The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie; And a thousand, thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I. I looked upon the rotting sea, I looked to Heaven, and tried to pray A wicked whisper came, and made I closed my lids and kept them close, For the sky and sea, and the sea and the sky, The cold sweat melted from their limbs, The look with which they looked on me An orphan's curse would drag to Hell But oh! more horrible than that Is a curse in a dead man's eye! The moving Moon went up the sky, And no where did abide: Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside Her beams bemocked the sultry main, But where the ship's huge shadow lay, Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire. O happy living things! no tongue A spring of love gushed from my heart, The self-same moment I could pray; CHATTERTON. O Chatterton! that thou wert yet alive! O'er peaceful freedom's undivided dale; And greet with smiles the young-eyed poesy -Monody on the Death of Chatterton. TEARS. Oh mark those smiling tears, that swell BROOK. Dear native brook! like peace, so placidly Smoothing thro' fertile fields thy current meek! Dear native brook! where first young poesy Started wildly-eager in her noontide dream, Where blameless pleasures dimple quiet's cheek, As water-lilies ripple a slow stream! -Written in Early Youth. The moon, that oft from heaven retires, -Absence.-A Farewell Ode. |