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The tear which mourn’d a brother’s fate scarce dry —

Pain after pain, and woe succeeding woe —

Is my heart destin’d for another blow?

O my sweet sister! and must thou too die?

Ah! how has Disappointment pour’d the tear 5

O’er infant Hope destroy’d by early frost!

How are ye gone, whom most my soul held dear!

Scarce had I lov’d you ere I mourn’d you lost;

Say, is this hollow eye, this heartless pain,

Fated to rove thro’ Life’s wide cheerless plain — 10

Nor father, brother, sister meet its ken —

My woes, my joys unshared! Ah! long ere then

On me thy icy dart, stern Death, be prov’d; —

Better to die, than live and not be lov’d!

ON SEEING A YOUTH AFFECTIONATELY WELCOMED BY A SISTER

I too a sister had! too cruel Death!

How sad Remembrance bids my bosom heave!

Tranquil her soul, as sleeping Infant’s breath;

Meek were her manners as a vernal Eve.

Knowledge, that frequent lifts the bloated mind, 5

Gave her the treasure of a lowly breast,

And Wit to venom’d Malice oft assign’d,

Dwelt in her bosom in a Turtle’s nest.

Cease, busy Memory! cease to urge the dart;

Nor on my soul her love to me impress! 10

For oh I mourn in anguish — and my heart

Feels the keen pang, th’ unutterable distress.

Yet wherefore grieve I that her sorrows cease,

For Life was misery, and the Grave is Peace!

A MATHEMATICAL PROBLEM

If Pegasus will let thee only ride him,

Spurning my clumsy efforts to o’erstride him,

Some fresh expedient the Muse will try,

And walk on stilts, although she cannot fly.

TO THE REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE

DEAR BROTHER,

I have often been surprised that Mathematics, the quintessence

of Truth, should have found admirers so few and so languid.

Frequent consideration and minute scrutiny have at length

unravelled the cause; viz. that though Reason is feasted, Imagination is starved; whilst Reason is luxuriating in its proper Paradise, Imagination is wearily travelling on a dreary desert. To assist Reason by the stimulus of Imagination is the design of the following production. In the execution of it much may be objectionable. The verse (particularly in the introduction of the ode) may be accused of unwarrantable liberties, but they are liberties equally homogeneal with the exactness of Mathematical disquisition, and the boldness of Pindaric daring. I have three strong champions to defend me against the attacks of Criticism: the Novelty, the Difficulty, and the Utility of the work. I may justly plume myself that I first have drawn the nymph Mathesis from the visionary caves of abstracted idea, and caused her to unite with Harmony. The first-born of this Union I now present to you; with interested motives indeed — as I expect to receive in return the more valuable offspring of your Muse. Thine ever, S. T. C.

CHRIST’S HOSPITAL

March 31, 1791

This is now — this was erst,

Proposition the first — and Problem the first.

I

On a given finite line

Which must no way incline;

To describe an equi —

— lateral Tri —

— A, N, G, L, E. 5

Now let A. B.

Be the given line

Which must no way incline;

The great Mathematician

Makes this Requisition, 10

That we describe an Equi —

— lateral Tri —

— angle on it:

Aid us, Reason — aid us, Wit!

II

From the centre A. at the distance A. B. 15

Describe the circle B. C. D.

At the distance B. A. from B. the centre

The round A. C. E. to describe boldly venture.

(Third postulate see.)

And from the point C. 20

In which the circles make a pother

Cutting and slashing one another,

Bid the straight lines a journeying go.

C. A. C. B. those lines will show.

To the points, which by A. B. are reckon’d, 25

And postulate the second

For Authority ye know.

A. B. C.

Triumphant shall be

An Equilateral Triangle, 30

Not Peter Pindar carp, nor Zoilus can wrangle.

III

Because the point A. is the centre

Of the circular B. C. D.

And because the point B. is the centre

Of the circular A. C. E. 35

A. C. to A. B. and B. C. to B. A.

Harmoniously equal for ever must stay;

Then C. A. and B. C.

Both extend the kind hand

To the basis, A. B. 40

Unambitiously join’d in Equality’s Band.

But to the same powers, when two powers are equal,

My mind forbodes the sequel;

My mind does some celestial impulse teach,

And equalises each to each. 45

Thus C. A. with B. C. strikes the same sure alliance,

That C. A. and B. C. had with A. B. before;

And in mutual affiance

None attempting to soar

Above another, 50

The unanimous three

C. A. and B. C. and A. B.

All are equal, each to his brother,

Preserving the balance of power so true:

Ah! the like would the proud Autocratrix do! 55

At taxes impending not Britain would tremble,

Nor Prussia struggle her fear to dissemble;

Nor the Mah’met-sprung Wight

The great Mussulman

Would stain his Divan 60

With Urine the soft-flowing daughter of Fright.

IV

But rein your stallion in, too daring Nine!

Should Empires bloat the scientific line?

Or with dishevell’d hair all madly do ye run

For transport that your task is done? 65

For done it is — the cause is tried!

And Proposition, gentle Maid,

Who soothly ask’d stern Demonstration’s aid,

Has proved her right, and A. B. C.

Of Angles three 70

Is shown to be of equal side;

And now our weary steed to rest in fine,

‘Tis rais’d upon A. B. the straight, the given line.

HONOUR

O, curas hominum! O, quantum est in rebus inane!

The fervid Sun had more than halv’d the day,

When gloomy on his couch Philedon lay;

His feeble frame consumptive as his purse,

His aching head did wine and women curse;

His fortune ruin’d and his wealth decay’d, 5

Clamorous his duns, his gaming debts unpaid,

The youth indignant seiz’d his tailor’s bill,

And on its back thus wrote with moral quill:

‘Various as colours in the rainbow shown,

Or similar in emptiness alone, 10

How false, how vain are Man’s pursuits below!

Wealth, Honour, Pleasure — what can ye bestow?

Yet see, how high and low, and young and old

Pursue the all-delusive power of Gold.

Fond man! should all Peru thy empire own, 15

For thee tho’ all Golconda’s jewels shone,

What greater bliss could all this wealth supply?

What, but to eat and drink and sleep and die?

Go, tempt the stormy sea, the burning soil —

Go, waste the night in thought, the day in toil, 20

Dark frowns the rock, and fierce the tempests rave —

Thy ingots go the unconscious deep to pave!

Or thunder at thy door the midnight train,

Or Death shall knock that never knocks in vain.

Next Honour’s sons come bustling on amain; 25

I laugh with pity at the idle train.

Infirm of soul! who think’st to lift thy name

Upon the waxen wings of human fame, —

Who for a sound, articulated breath —

Gazest undaunted in the face of death! 30

What art thou but a Meteor’s glaring light —

Blazing a moment and then sunk in night?

Caprice which rais’d thee high shall hurl thee low,

Or Envy blast the laurels on thy brow.

To such poor joys could ancient Honour lead 35

When empty fame was toiling Merit’s meed;

To Modern Honour other lays belong;

Profuse of joy and Lord of right and wrong,

Honour can game, drink, riot in the stew,

Cut a friend’s throat; — what cannot Honour do? 40

Ah me! — the storm within can Honour still

For Julio’s death, whom Honour made me kill?

Or will this lordly Honour tell the way

To pay those debts, which Honour makes me pay?

Or if with pistol and terrific threats 45

I make some traveller pay my Honour’s debts,

A medicine for this wound can Honour give?

Ah, no! my Honour dies to make my Honour live.

But see! young Pleasure, and her train advance,

And joy and laughter wake the inebriate dance; 50

Around my neck she throws her fair white arms,

I meet her loves, and madden at her charms.

For the gay grape can joys celestial move,

And what so sweet below as Woman’s love?

With such high transport every moment flies, 55

I curse Experience that he makes me wise;

For at his frown the dear deliriums flew,

And the changed scene now wears a gloomy hue.

A hideous hag th’ Enchantress Pleasure seems,

And all her joys appear but feverous dreams. 60

The vain resolve still broken and still made,

Disease and loathing and remorse invade;

The charm is vanish’d and the bubble’s broke, —

A slave to pleasure is a slave to smoke!’

Such lays repentant did the Muse supply; 65

When as the Sun was hastening down the sky,

In glittering state twice fifty guineas come, —

His Mother’s plate antique had rais’d the sum.

Forth leap’d Philedon of new life possest: — 69

‘Twas Brookes’s all till two,—’twas Hackett’s all the rest!

ON IMITATION

All are not born to soar — and ah! how few

In tracks where Wisdom leads their paths pursue!

Contagious when to wit or wealth allied,

Folly and Vice diffuse their venom wide.

On Folly every fool his talent tries; 5

It asks some toil to imitate the wise;

Tho’ few like Fox can speak — like Pitt can think —

Yet all like Fox can game — like Pitt can drink.

INSIDE THE COACH

‘Tis hard on Bagshot Heath to try

Unclos’d to keep the weary eye;

But ah! Oblivion’s nod to get

In rattling coach is harder yet.

Slumbrous God of half-shut eye! 5

Who lovest with limbs supine to lie;

Soother sweet of toil and care

Listen, listen to my prayer;

And to thy votary dispense

Thy soporific influence! 10

What tho’ around thy drowsy head

The sevenfold cap of night be spread,

Yet lift that drowsy head awhile

And yawn propitiously a smile;

In drizzly rains poppean dews 15

O’er the tired inmates of the Coach diffuse;

And when thou’st charm’d our eyes to rest,

Pillowing the chin upon the breast,

Bid many a dream from thy dominions

Wave its various-painted pinions, 20

Till ere the splendid visions close

We snore quartettes in ecstasy of nose.

While thus we urge our airy course,

O may no jolt’s electric force

Our fancies from their steeds unhorse, 25

And call us from thy fairy reign

To dreary Bagshot Heath again!

DEVONSHIRE ROADS

The indignant Bard composed this furious ode,

As tired he dragg’d his way thro’ Plimtree road!

Crusted with filth and stuck in mire

Dull sounds the Bard’s bemudded lyre;

Nathless Revenge and Ire the Poet goad 5

To pour his imprecations on the road.

Curst road! whose execrable way

Was darkly shadow’d out in Milton’s lay,

When the sad fiends thro’ Hell’s sulphureous roads

Took the first survey of their new abodes; 10

Or when the fall’n Archangel fierce

Dar’d through the realms of Night to pierce,

What time the Bloodhound lur’d by Human scent

Thro’ all Confusion’s quagmires floundering went.

Nor cheering pipe, nor Bird’s shrill note 15

Around thy dreary paths shall float;

Their boding songs shall scritch-owls pour

To fright the guilty shepherds sore,

Led by the wandering fires astray

Thro’ the dank horrors of thy way! 20

While they their mud-lost sandals hunt

May all the curses, which they grunt

In raging moan like goaded hog,

Alight upon thee, damnéd Bog!

MUSIC

Hence, soul-dissolving Harmony

That lead’st th’ oblivious soul astray —

Though thou sphere-descended be —

Hence away! —

Thou mightier Goddess, thou demand’st my lay, 5

Born when earth was seiz’d with cholic;

Or as more sapient sages say,

What time the Legion diabolic

Compell’d their beings to enshrine

In bodies vile of herded swine, 10

Precipitate adown the steep

With hideous rout were plunging in the deep,

And hog and devil mingling grunt and yell

Seiz’d on the ear with horrible obtrusion; —

Then if aright old legendaries tell, 15

Wert thou begot by Discord on Confusion!

What though no name’s sonorous power

Was given thee at thy natal hour! —

Yet oft I feel thy sacred might,

While concords wing their distant flight. 20

Such Power inspires thy holy son

Sable clerk of Tiverton!

And oft where Otter sports his stream,

I hear thy banded offspring scream.

Thou Goddess! thou inspir’st each throat; 25

‘Tis thou who pour’st the scritch-owl note!

Transported hear’st thy children all

Scrape and blow and squeak and squall;

And while old Otter’s steeple rings,

Clappest hoarse thy raven wings! 30

SONNET: ON QUITTING SCHOOL FOR COLLEGE

Farewell parental scenes! a sad farewell!

To you my grateful heart still fondly clings,

Tho’ fluttering round on Fancy’s burnish’d wings

Her tales of future Joy Hope loves to tell.

Adieu, adieu! ye much-lov’d cloisters pale! 5

Ah! would those happy days return again,

When ‘neath your arches, free from every stain,

I heard of guilt and wonder’d at the tale!

Dear haunts! where oft my simple lays I sang,

Listening meanwhile the echoings of my feet, 10

Lingering I quit you, with as great a pang,

As when erewhile, my weeping childhood, torn

By early sorrow from my native seat,

Mingled its tears with hers — my widow’d Parent lorn.

ABSENCE: A FAREWELL ODE ON QUITTING SCHOOL FOR JESUS COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE

Where graced with many a classic spoil

CAM rolls his reverend stream along,

I haste to urge the learnéd toil

That sternly chides my love-lorn song:

Ah me! too mindful of the days 5

Illumed by Passion’s orient rays,

When Peace, and Cheerfulness and Health

Enriched me with the best of wealth.

Ah fair Delights! that o’er my soul

On Memory’s wing, like shadows fly! 10

Ah Flowers! which Joy from Eden stole

While Innocence stood smiling by! —

But cease, fond Heart! this bootless moan:

Those Hours on rapid Pinions flown

Shall yet return, by Absence crown’d, 15

And scatter livelier roses round.

The Sun who ne’er remits his fires

On heedless eyes may pour the day:

The Moon, that oft from Heaven retires,

Endears her renovated ray. 20

What though she leave the sky unblest

To mourn awhile in murky vest?

When she relumes her lovely light,

We bless the Wanderer of the Night.

HAPPINESS

On wide or narrow scale shall Man

Most happily describe Life’s plan?

Say shall he bloom and wither there,

Where first his infant buds appear;

Or upwards dart with soaring force, 5

And tempt some more ambitious course?

Obedient now to Hope’s command,

I bid each humble wish expand,

And fair and bright Life’s prospects seem.

While Hope displays her cheering beam, 10

And Fancy’s vivid colourings stream,

While Emulation stands me nigh

The Goddess of the eager eye.

With foot advanc’d and anxious heart

Now for the fancied goal I start: — 15

Ah! why will Reason intervene

Me and my promis’d joys between!

She stops my course, she chains my speed,

While thus her forceful words proceed: —

Ah! listen, Youth, ere yet too late, 20

What evils on thy course may wait!

To bow the head, to bend the knee,

A minion of Servility,

At low Pride’s frequent frowns to sigh,

And watch the glance in Folly’s eye; 25

To toil intense, yet toil in vain,

And feel with what a hollow pain

Pale Disappointment hangs her head

O’er darling Expectation dead!

‘The scene is changed and Fortune’s gale 30

Shall belly out each prosperous sail.

Yet sudden wealth full well I know

Did never happiness bestow.

That wealth to which we were not born

Dooms us to sorrow or to scorn. 35

Behold yon flock which long had trod

O’er the short grass of Devon’s sod,

To Lincoln’s rank rich meads transferr’d,

And in their fate thy own be fear’d;

Through every limb contagions fly, 40

Deform’d and choked they burst and die.

‘When Luxury opens wide her arms,

And smiling wooes thee to those charms,

Whose fascination thousands own,

Shall thy brows wear the stoic frown? 45

And when her goblet she extends

Which maddening myriads press around,

What power divine thy soul befriends

That thou should’st dash it to the ground? —

No, thou shalt drink, and thou shalt know 50

Her transient bliss, her lasting woe,

Her maniac joys, that know no measure,

And Riot rude and painted Pleasure; —

Till (sad reverse!) the Enchantress vile

To frowns converts her magic smile; 55

Her train impatient to destroy,

Observe her frown with gloomy joy;

On thee with harpy fangs they seize

The hideous offspring of Disease,

Swoln Dropsy ignorant of Rest, 60

And Fever garb’d in scarlet vest,

Consumption driving the quick hearse,

And Gout that howls the frequent curse,

With Apoplex of heavy head

That surely aims his dart of lead. 65

‘But say Life’s joys unmix’d were given

To thee some favourite of Heaven:

Within, without, tho’ all were health —

Yet what e’en thus are Fame, Power, Wealth,

But sounds that variously express, 70

What’s thine already — Happiness!

‘Tis thine the converse deep to hold

With all the famous sons of old;

And thine the happy waking dream

While Hope pursues some favourite theme, 75

As oft when Night o’er Heaven is spread,

Round this maternal seat you tread,

Where far from splendour, far from riot,

In silence wrapt sleeps careless Quiet.

‘Tis thine with Fancy oft to talk, 80

And thine the peaceful evening walk;

And what to thee the sweetest are —

The setting sun, the Evening Star —

The tints, which live along the sky,

And Moon that meets thy raptur’d eye, 85

Where oft the tear shall grateful start,

Dear silent pleasures of the Heart!

Ah! Being blest, for Heaven shall lend

To share thy simple joys a friend!

Ah! doubly blest, if Love supply 90

His influence to complete thy joy,

If chance some lovely maid thou find

To read thy visage in thy mind.

‘One blessing more demands thy care: —

Once more to Heaven address the prayer: 95

For humble independence pray

The guardian genius of thy way;

Whom (sages say) in days of yore

Meek Competence to Wisdom bore,

So shall thy little vessel glide 100

With a fair breeze adown the tide,

And Hope, if e’er thou ‘ginst to sorrow,

Remind thee of some fair tomorrow,

Till Death shall close thy tranquil eye

While Faith proclaims “Thou shalt not die!”’ 105