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S. T. COLERIDGE,
ST. PETER'S AT ROME.
A LADY'S CHAMBER. Vastness which grows, but grows to harmonize, The moon shines dim in the open air, All musical in its immensities;
And not a moonbeam enters here. Rich marbles, richer painting, shrines where But they without its light can see flame
The chamber carved so curiously,
All made out of the carver's brain,
The lamp with twofold silver chain Sits on the firm-set ground, -- and this the cloud Is fastened to an angel's feet. must claim.
The silver lamp burns dead and dim;
But Christabel the lamp will trim. . Here condense thy soul She trimmed the lamp, and made it bright, To more immediate objects, and control And left it swinging to and fro, Thy thoughts until thy mind hath got by heart While Geraldine, in wretched plight, Its eloquent proportions, and unroll
Sank down upon the floor below.
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment ?
Sure something holy lodges in that breast, Or view the lord of the unerring bow,
And with these raptures moves the vocal air The god of life, and poesy, and light, - To testify his hidden residence.
How sweetly did they float upon the wings All radiant from his triumph in the fight; Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night, The shaft hath just been shot, – the arrow At every fall smoothing the raven down bright
Of darkness till it smiled. With an immortal's vengeance ; in his eye
MILTON. And nostril beautiful disdain, and might And majesty, flash their full lightnings by,
PERFECTION. Developing in that one glance the Deity.
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet, But in his delicate form -- a dream of love,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue Shaped by some solitary nymph, whose breast
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light Longed for a deathless lover from above,
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, And maddened in that vision — are exprest
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
King John, Act iv. Sc. 2.
In This, I fondly hoped to clash, a friend whom Dealk alone coulds but my with malignant Grash, Has torn this from my Breast forever
I neither seeke by bribes to please,
Nor by desert to breed offence.
SIR EDWARD DYER.*
Thus would I double my life's fading space;
And in this true delight,
But boldly say each night,
TO THE HON. CHARLES MONTAGUE.
At objects in an airy height;
Is afar off to view the flight.
The worthless prey but only shows
The joy consisted in the strife ; Whate'er we take, as soon we lose
In Homer's riddle and in life.
So, whilst in feverish sleeps we think
We taste what waking we desire, The dream is better than the drink,
Which only feeds the sickly fire.
'T is much immortal beauty to admire,
LORD EDWARD THURLOW.
To the mind's eye things well appear,
At distance through an artful glass ; Bring but the flattering objects near,
They're all a senseless gloomy mass.
Seeing aright, we see our woes :
Then what avails it to have eyes ? From ignorance our comfort flows, The only wretched are the wise.
FROM “HYMN IN HONOR OF BEAUTY."
So every spirit, as it is most pure,
And hath in it the more of heavenly light,
So it the fairer body doth procure
For of the soul the body form doth take ; Not from great deeds, but good alone;
For soul is form, and doth the body make.
Therefore wherever that thou dost behold
Know this for certain, that the same doth hold
A beauteous soul, with fair conditions thewed, Books should, not business, entertain the light,
Fit to receive the seed of virtue strewed ; And sleep, as undisturbed as death, the night.
For all that fair is, is by nature good ;
That is a sign to know the gentle blood.
Yet oft it falls that many a gentle mind
Dwells in deformed tabernacle drowned, yield,
Either by chance, against the course of kind, Horace might envy in his Sabine field.
Or through unaptnesse in the substance found,
Which it assumed of some stubborne ground, * This is frequently attributed to William Byrd. Bartlett, how ever, gives it to Sir Edward Dyer, referring to Hannah's Courtly Poets as authority; so, also, Ward, in his English Poets, Vol. I., 1880. | But is performed with some foul imperfection.