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

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


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that mockest Heaven, adulterous, blind,

       And patriot only in pernicious toils!

       Are these thy boasts, Champion of human kind?

       To mix with Kings in the low lust of sway,

       Yell in the hunt, and share the murderous prey;

       To insult the shrine of Liberty with spoils

       From freemen torn; to tempt and to betray?

      V

      The Sensual and the Dark rebel in vain,

       Slaves by their own compulsion! In mad game

       They burst their manacles and wear the name

       Of Freedom, graven on a heavier chain!

       O Liberty! with profitless endeavour

       Have I pursued thee, many a weary hour;

       But thou nor swell’st the victor’s strain, nor ever

       Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human power.

       Alike from all, howe’er they praise thee,

       (Nor prayer, nor boastful name delays thee)

       Alike from Priestcraft’s harpy minions,

       And factious Blasphemy’s obscener slaves,

       Thou speedest on thy subtle pinions,

       The guide of homeless winds, and playmate of the waves!

       And there I felt thee! — on that sea-cliff’s verge,

       Whose pines, scarce travelled by the breeze above,

       Had made one murmur with the distant surge!

       Yes, while I stood and gazed, my temples bare,

       And shot my being through earth, sea, and air,

       Possessing all things with intensest love,

       O Liberty! my spirit felt thee there.

       Table of Contents

       THE RIME OF THE ANCYENT MARINERE

       THE FOSTER-MOTHER’S TALE

       LINES LEFT UPON A SEAT IN A YEW-TREE WHICH STANDS NEAR THE LAKE OF ESTHWAITE, ON A DESOLATE PART OF THE SHORE, YET COMMANDING A BEAUTIFUL PROSPECT

       THE NIGHTINGALE

       THE FEMALE VAGRANT

       GOODY BLAKE, AND HARRY GILL, A TRUE STORY

       LINES WRITTEN AT A SMALL DISTANCE FROM MY HOUSE, AND SENT BY MY LITTLE BOY TO THE PERSON TO WHOM THEY ARE ADDRESSED

       SIMON LEE, THE OLD HUNTSMAN, WITH AN INCIDENT IN WHICH HE WAS CONCERNED

       ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS SHEWING HOW THE ART OF LYING MAY BE TAUGHT

       WE ARE SEVEN

       LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING

       THE THORN

       THE LAST OF THE FLOCK

       THE DUNGEON

       THE MAD MOTHER

       THE IDIOT BOY

       LINES WRITTEN NEAR RICHMOND, UPON THE THAMES, AT EVENING

       EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY

       THE TABLES TURNED; AN EVENING SCENE, ON THE SAME SUBJECT

       OLD MAN TRAVELLING; ANIMAL TRANQUILLITY AND DECAY, A SKETCH

       THE COMPLAINT OF A FORSAKEN INDIAN WOMAN

       THE CONVICT

       LINES WRITTEN A FEW MILES ABOVE TINTERN ABBEY, ON REVISITING THE BANKS OF THE WYE DURING A TOUR, July 13, 1798

      THE RIME OF THE ANCYENT MARINERE

       Table of Contents

      IN SEVEN PARTS

      By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

      ARGUMENT.

      How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by Storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.

      I.

      It is an ancyent Marinere,

       And he stoppeth one of three:

       “By thy long grey beard and thy glittering eye

       ”Now wherefore stoppest me?

      “The Bridegroom’s doors are open’d wide

       ”And I am next of kin;

       “The Guests are met, the Feast is set, —

       ”May’st hear the merry din. —

      But still he holds the wedding-guest —

       There was a Ship, quoth he —

       “Nay, if thou’st got a laughsome tale,

       ”Marinere! come with me.”

      He holds him with his skinny hand,

       Quoth he, there was a Ship —

       “Now get thee hence, thou greybeard Loon!

       ”Or my Staff shall make thee skip.”

      He holds him with his glittering eye —

       The wedding guest stood still

       And listens like a three year’s child;

       The Marinere hath his will.

      The wedding-guest sate on a stone,

       He cannot chuse but hear:

      


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