The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Chapter 87 : [19] Four letters form his name. M. P.[20] _Both_] FAMINE M. P.[22-3]And I have spill&#

[19] Four letters form his name. M. P.

[20] _Both_] FAMINE M. P.

[22-3]

And I have spill'd the blood since then Of thrice ten hundred thousand men.

M. P.

[22] drunk] drank An. Anth., S. L. 1828, 1829.

[24] _Both_] FIRE and FAMINE M. P.

[25] Four letters form his name. M. P.

[29] Their wives and children M. P.

[32] and the carrion crow M. P., An. Anth.

[39] _Both_] SLAUGHTER and FIRE M. P.

[42] _Both_] SLAUGHTER and FIRE M. P.

[43] Four letters form his name. M. P.

[47] Hedge] Huts M. P.

[48] om. An. Anth.

[49] Halloo! Halloo! the work was done An. Anth.

[50] As on I strode with monstrous strides M. P.: And on as I strode with my great strides An. Anth.

[51] and held M. P., An. Anth.

[54] through] all M. P.

[58] flame] fire M. P.: flames An. Anth.

[59] While crash the roof fell in I wish M. P.

[62] _Both_] SLAUGHTER and FAMINE M. P.

[63] Four letters form his name. M. P.

[65] How shall I give him honour due? M. P.

[67] we] I M. P.

[71] and] of M. P.

[75 foll.]

For him that did so much for you.

[To _Slaughter_.

For _you_ he turn'd the dust to mud With his fellow creatures' blood!

[To _Famine_.

And hunger scorch'd as many more, To make _your_ cup of joy run o'er.

[To _Both_.

Full ninety moons, he by my troth!

Hath richly cater'd for you both!

And in an hour would you repay An eight years' debt? Away! away!

I alone am faithful! I Cling to him everlastingly.

LABERIUS.

M. P.

[Below 81] 1798] 1796 S. L. 1828, 1829, and 1834.

FROST AT MIDNIGHT[240:1]

The Frost performs its secret ministry, Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry Came loud--and hark, again! loud as before.

The inmates of my cottage, all at rest, Have left me to that solitude, which suits 5 Abstruser musings: save that at my side My cradled infant slumbers peacefully.

'Tis calm indeed! so calm that it disturbs And vexes meditation with its strange And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and wood, 10 This populous village! Sea, and hill, and wood, With all the numberless goings-on of life, Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not; Only that film,[240:2] which fluttered on the grate, 15 Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing.

Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature Gives it dim sympathies with me who live, Making it a companionable form, Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit 20 By its own moods interprets, every where Echo or mirror seeking of itself, And makes a toy of Thought.

But O! how oft, How oft, at school, with most believing mind, Presageful, have I gazed upon the bars, 25 To watch that fluttering _stranger_! and as oft With unclosed lids, already had I dreamt Of my sweet birth-place, and the old church-tower, Whose bells, the poor man's only music, rang From morn to evening, all the hot Fair-day, 30 So sweetly, that they stirred and haunted me With a wild pleasure, falling on mine ear Most like articulate sounds of things to come!

So gazed I, till the soothing things, I dreamt, Lulled me to sleep, and sleep prolonged my dreams! 35 And so I brooded all the following morn, Awed by the stern preceptor's face, mine eye Fixed with mock study on my swimming book: Save if the door half opened, and I s.n.a.t.c.hed A hasty glance, and still my heart leaped up, 40 For still I hoped to see the _stranger's_ face, Townsman, or aunt, or sister more beloved, My play-mate when we both were clothed alike!

Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side, Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm, 45 Fill up the interspersed vacancies And momentary pauses of the thought!

My babe so beautiful! it thrills my heart With tender gladness, thus to look at thee, And think that thou shalt learn far other lore, 50 And in far other scenes! For I was reared In the great city, pent 'mid cloisters dim, And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars.

But _thou_, my babe! shalt wander like a breeze By lakes and sandy sh.o.r.es, beneath the crags 55 Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds, Which image in their bulk both lakes and sh.o.r.es And mountain crags: so shalt thou see and hear The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible Of that eternal language, which thy G.o.d 60 Utters, who from eternity doth teach Himself in all, and all things in himself.

Great universal Teacher! he shall mould Thy spirit, and by giving make it ask.

Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee, 65 Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall 70 Heard only in the trances of the blast, Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, Quietly s.h.i.+ning to the quiet Moon.

_February_, 1798.[242:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[240:1] First published in a quarto pamphlet 'printed by Johnson in S.