No More Learning

'Retine vim istam, falsa enim dicam, si coges. '

EUSEBIUS. [A]


* * * * *

[This was suggested in front of Alfoxden. The boy was a son of my
friend, Basil Montagu, who had been two or three years under our care.
The name of Kilve is from a village on the Bristol Channel, about a
mile from Alfoxden; and the name of Liswyn Farm was taken from a
beautiful spot on the Wye, where Mr. Coleridge, my sister, and I had
been visiting the famous John Thelwall, who had taken refuge from
politics, after a trial for high treason, with a view to bring up his
family by the profits of agriculture, which proved as unfortunate a
speculation as that he had fled from. Coleridge and he had both been
public lecturers; Coleridge mingling, with his politics, Theology,
from which the other elocutionist abstained, unless it was for the
sake of a sneer. This quondam community of public employment induced
Thelwall to visit Coleridge at Nether Stowey, where he fell in my way.
He really was a man of extraordinary talent, an affectionate husband,
and a good father. Though brought up in the city, on a tailor's board,
he was truly sensible of the beauty of natural objects. I remember
once, when Coleridge, he, and I were seated together upon the turf, on
the brink of a stream in the most beautiful part of the most beautiful
glen of Alfoxden, Coleridge exclaimed, 'This is a place to reconcile
one to all the jarrings and conflicts of the wide world. ' 'Nay,' said
Thelwall, 'to make one forget them altogether. ' The visit of this man
to Coleridge was, as I believe Coleridge has related, the occasion of
a spy being sent by Government to watch our proceedings; which were, I
can say with truth, such as the world at large would have thought
ludicrously harmless. --I. F.
]


* * * * *

In the editions 1798 to 1843 the title of this poem is 'Anecdote for
Fathers, showing how the practice [1] of lying may be taught'. It was
placed among the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood. "--Ed.


* * * * *

THE POEM


I have a boy of five years old;
His face is fair and fresh to see;
His limbs are cast in beauty's mould,
And dearly he loves me.

One morn we strolled on our dry walk, 5
Our quiet home [2] all full in view,
And held such intermitted talk
As we are wont to do.

My thoughts on former pleasures ran;
I thought of Kilve's delightful shore, 10
Our [3] pleasant home when spring began,
A long, long year before.

A day it was when I could bear
Some fond regrets to entertain; [4]
With so much happiness to spare, 15
I could not feel a pain.

The green earth echoed to the feet
Of lambs that bounded through the glade,
From shade to sunshine, and as fleet
From sunshine back to shade. [5] 20

Birds warbled round me--and each trace
Of inward sadness had its charm;
Kilve, thought I, was a favoured place,[6]
And so is Liswyn farm.

My boy beside me tripped, so slim 25
And graceful in his rustic dress!
And, as we talked, I questioned him, [7]
In very idleness.

"Now tell me, had you rather be,"
I said, and took him by the arm, 30
"On Kilve's smooth shore, by the green sea,
Or here at Liswyn farm? " [8]

In careless mood he looked at me,
While still I held him by the arm,
And said, "At Kilve I'd rather be 35
Than here at Liswyn farm. "

"Now, little Edward, say why so:
My little Edward, tell me why. "--
"I cannot tell, I do not know. "--
"Why, this is strange," said I; 40

"For, here are woods, hills smooth and warm: [9]
There surely must some reason be
Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm
For Kilve by the green sea.