The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge (Illustrated Edition). Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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And gather scientific Lore:

      Or to mature the embryo thoughts inclin’d, 10

      That half-conceiv’d lay struggling in my mind,

      The cloisters’ solitary gloom I’d round.

      ‘Tis vain to wish, for Time has ta’en his flight —

      For follies past be ceas’d the fruitless tears:

       Let follies past to future care incite. 15

      Averse maturer judgements to obey

      Youth owns, with pleasure owns, the Passions’ sway,

      But sage Experience only comes with years.

      THE NOSE

      Ye souls unus’d to lofty verse

       Who sweep the earth with lowly wing,

       Like sand before the blast disperse —

       A Nose! a mighty Nose I sing!

      As erst Prometheus stole from heaven the fire 5

       To animate the wonder of his hand;

      Thus with unhallow’d hands, O Muse, aspire,

       And from my subject snatch a burning brand!

      So like the Nose I sing — my verse shall glow —

      Like Phlegethon my verse in waves of fire shall flow! 10

      Light of this once all darksome spot

       Where now their glad course mortals run,

       First-born of Sirius begot

       Upon the focus of the Sun —

      I’ll call thee —— ! for such thy earthly name — 15

       What name so high, but what too low must be?

      Comets, when most they drink the solar flame

       Are but faint types and images of thee!

      Burn madly, Fire! o’er earth in ravage run,

      Then blush for shame more red by fiercer —— outdone! 20

      I saw when from the turtle feast

       The thick dark smoke in volumes rose!

       I saw the darkness of the mist

       Encircle thee, O Nose!

      Shorn of thy rays thou shott’st a fearful gleam 25

       (The turtle quiver’d with prophetic fright)

      Gloomy and sullen thro’ the night of steam: —

       So Satan’s Nose when Dunstan urg’d to flight,

      Glowing from gripe of red-hot pincers dread

      Athwart the smokes of Hell disastrous twilight shed! 30

      The Furies to madness my brain devote —

       In robes of ice my body wrap!

       On billowy flames of fire I float,

       Hear ye my entrails how they snap?

      Some power unseen forbids my lungs to breathe! 35

       What fire-clad meteors round me whizzing fly!

      I vitrify thy torrid zone beneath,

       Proboscis fierce! I am calcined! I die!

      Thus, like great Pliny, in Vesuvius’ fire,

      I perish in the blaze while I the blaze admire. 40

      TO THE MUSE

      Tho’ no bold flights to thee belong;

      And tho’ thy lays with conscious fear,

      Shrink from Judgement’s eye severe,

      Yet much I thank thee, Spirit of my song!

      For, lovely Muse! thy sweet employ 5

      Exalts my soul, refines my breast,

      Gives each pure pleasure keener zest,

      And softens sorrow into pensive Joy.

      From thee I learn’d the wish to bless,

      From thee to commune with my heart; 10

      From thee, dear Muse! the gayer part,

      To laugh with pity at the crowds that press

      Where Fashion flaunts her robes by Folly spun,

      Whose hues gay-varying wanton in the sun.

      DESTRUCTION OF THE BASTILE

      I

      Heard’st thou yon universal cry,

       And dost thou linger still on Gallia’s shore?

      Go, Tyranny! beneath some barbarous sky

       Thy terrors lost and ruin’d power deplore!

       What tho’ through many a groaning age 5

       Was felt thy keen suspicious rage,

       Yet Freedom rous’d by fierce Disdain

       Has wildly broke thy triple chain,

      And like the storm which Earth’s deep entrails hide,

      At length has burst its way and spread the ruins wide. 10

      ***

      IV

      In sighs their sickly breath was spent; each gleam

       Of Hope had ceas’d the long long day to cheer;

      Or if delusive, in some flitting dream,

       It gave them to their friends and children dear —

       Awaked by lordly Insult’s sound 15

       To all the doubled horrors round,

       Oft shrunk they from Oppression’s band

       While Anguish rais’d the desperate hand

      For silent death; or lost the mind’s controll,

      Thro’ every burning vein would tides of Frenzy roll. 20

      V

      But

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