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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 clergyHe 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.
ON HAVING LEFT A PLACE OF RETIREMENT.
Low was our pretty cot! our tallest rose
Our myrtles blossomed; and across the porch
But the time, when first From that low dell steep up the stony mount, I climbed with perilous toil and reached the top, Oh what a goodly scene! Here the bleak mount, The bare bleak mountain speckled thin with sheep; Gray clouds, that shadowing spot the sunny fields. And river, now with bushy rocks o'erbrowed, Now winding bright and full, with naked banks; And seats, and lawns, the abbey, and the wood, And cots, and hamlets, and faint city-spire: The Channel there, the islands and white sails, Dim coasts, and cloud-like hills, and shoreless
It seemed like omnipresence! God, methought,
Ah quiet dell! dead cot! and mount sublime!
Their slothful loves and dainty sympathies!
I therefore go, and join head, heart and hand,
Thy jasmin and thy window-peeping rose,
THE COMPLAINT OF NINATHOMA.
How long will ye round me be swelling,
Nor beneath the cold blast of the tree. Thro' the high-sounding halls of Cathlóma
In the steps of my beauty I stray'd; The warriors beheld Ninathóma,
And they blessed the white-bosomed maid! A ghost! by my cavern it darted!
In moon-beams the spirit was drestFor lovely appear the departed
When they visit the dreams of my rest! But disturbed by the tempest's commotion
Fleet the shadowy forms of delightAh, cease, thou shrill blast of the ocean! To howl through my cavern by night.
As late each flower that sweetest blows
A sleeping Love I spied.
Around his brows a beamy wreath
All purple glowed his cheek, beneath,
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 Subdued th' impatient boy!
He gazed! he thrilled with deep delight! Then clapped his wings for joy.
And oh! he cried—‘Of magic kind
What charms this throne endear! Some other Love let Venus findI'll fix my empire here.'
CUPID, if storying legends tell aright,
A chalice o'er love-kindled flames he fixed,
And hope, the blameless parasite of woe.
Sweet sounds transpired as when the enamoured
Pours the soft murmuring of responsive love.
RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER.
"I FEAR thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand!
And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand.
Within the shadow of the ship
O happy living things! no tongue
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I blessed them unaware.
The self-same moment I could pray;
O Chatterton! that thou wert yet alive!
Sure thou would'st spread the canvas to the gale, And love, with us, the tinkling team to drive O'er peaceful freedom's undivided dale;
And we, at sober eve, would round thee throng, Hanging, enraptured, on thy stately song! And greet with smiles the young-eyed poesy All deftle mask'd, as hoar antiquity.
-Monody on the Death of Chatterton.
Oh mark those smiling tears, that swell
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,