Both for his good and evil, he had never been able to endure emotion
without either diluting or intensifying it with thought, and with always
self-conscious thought.
without either diluting or intensifying it with thought, and with always
self-conscious thought.
Coleridge - Poems
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**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers! *****
Title: Poems of Coleridge
Author: Coleridge, ed Arthur Symons
Release Date: June, 2005 [EBook #8208]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on July 2, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF COLERIDGE ***
Jonathan Ingram, Jerry Fairbanks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
POEMS OF COLERIDGE
SELECTED AND ARRANGED
WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES
BY
ARTHUR SYMONS
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER
CHRISTABEL
KUBLA KHAN
LEWTI
THE BALLAD OF THE DARK LADIE
LOVE
THE THREE GRAVES
DEJECTION: AN ODE
ODE TO TRANQUILLITY
FRANCE: AN ODE
FEARS IN SOLITUDE
THIS LIME-TREE BOWER MY PRISON
TO A GENTLEMAN (W. WORDSWORTH)
HYMN BEFORE SUN-RISE
FROST AT MIDNIGHT
THE NIGHTINGALE
THE EOLIAN HARP
THE PICTURE
THE GARDEN OF BOCCACCIO
THE TWO FOUNTS
A DAY-DREAM
SONNET
LINES TO W. LINLEY, ESQ.
DOMESTIC PEACE
SONG FROM _ZAPOLYA_
HUNTING SONG FROM _ZAPOLYA_
WESTPHALIAN SONG
YOUTH AND AGE
WORK WITHOUT HOPE
TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY
LOVE'S APPARITION
LOVE, HOPE, AND PATIENCE
DUTY SURVIVING SELF-LOVE
LOVE'S FIRST HOPE
PHANTOM
TO NATURE
FANCY IN NUBIBUS
CONSTANCY TO AN IDEAL OBJECT
PHANTOM OR FACT?
LINES SUGGESTED BY THE LAST WORDS OF BERENGARIUS
FORBEARANCE
_SANCTI DOMINICI PALLIUM_
ON DONNE'S POETRY
ON A BAD SINGER
_NE PLUS ULTRA_
HUMAN LIFE
THE BUTTERFLY
THE PANG MORE SHARP THAN ALL
THE VISIONARY HOPE
THE PAINS OF SLEEP
LOVE'S BURIAL-PLACE
LOVE, A SWORD
THE KISS
NOT AT HOME
NAMES (FROM LESSING)
To LESBIA (FROM CATULLUS)
THE DEATH OF THE STARLING (FROM CATULLUS)
ON A CATARACT (FROM STOLBERG)
HYMN TO THE EARTH (FROM STOLBERG)
THE VISIT OF THE GODS (FROM SCHILLER)
TRANSLATION (FROM OTTFRIED)
THE VIRGIN'S CRADLE-HYMN
EPITAPHS ON AN INFANT
AN ODE TO THE RAIN
ANSWER TO A CHILD'S QUESTION
SOMETHING CHILDISH, BUT VERY NATURAL
LINES ON A CHILD
THE KNIGHT'S TOMB
FIRE, FAMINE, AND SLAUGHTER
THE TWO ROUND SPACES ON THE TOMBSTONE
THE DEVIL'S THOUGHTS
COLOGNE
SONNETS ATTEMPTED IN THE MANNER OF CONTEMPORARY WRITERS
LIMBO
METRICAL FEET
THE HOMERIC HEXAMETER (FROM SCHILLER)
THE OVIDIAN ELEGIAC METRE (FROM SCHILLER)
CATULLIAN HENDECASYLLABLES (FROM MATTHISON)
To ----
EPITAPH ON A BAD MAN
THE SUICIDE'S ARGUMENT
THE GOOD, GREAT MAN
INSCRIPTION FOR A FOUNTAIN ON A HEATH
INSCRIPTION FOR A TIME-PIECE
A TOMBLESS EPITAPH
EPITAPH
NOTES
INTRODUCTION
In one of Rossetti's invaluable notes on poetry, he tells us that to him
"the leading point about Coleridge's work is its human love. " We may
remember Coleridge's own words:
"To be beloved is all I need,
And whom I love, I love indeed. "
Yet love, though it is the word which he uses of himself, is not really
what he himself meant when using it, but rather an affectionate sympathy,
in which there seems to have been little element of passion. Writing to his
wife, during that first absence in Germany, whose solitude tried him so
much, he laments that there is "no one to love. " "Love is the vital air of
my genius," he tells her, and adds: "I am deeply convinced that if I were
to remain a few years among objects for whom I had no affection, I should
wholly lose the powers of intellect. "
With this incessant, passionless sensibility, it was not unnatural that his
thirst for friendship was stronger than his need of love; that to him
friendship was hardly distinguishable from love. Throughout all his letters
there is a series of causeless explosions of emotion, which it is hardly
possible to take seriously, but which, far from being insincere, is really,
no doubt, the dribbling overflow of choked-up feelings, a sort of moral
leakage. It might be said of Coleridge, in the phrase which he used of
Nelson, that he was "heart-starved. " Tied for life to a woman with whom he
had not one essential sympathy, the whole of his nature was put out of
focus; and perhaps nothing but "the joy of grief," and the terrible and
fettering power of luxuriating over his own sorrows, and tracing them to
first principles, outside himself or in the depths of his sub-
consciousness, gave him the courage to support that long, everpresent
divorce.
Both for his good and evil, he had never been able to endure emotion
without either diluting or intensifying it with thought, and with always
self-conscious thought. He uses identically the same words in writing his
last, deeply moved letter to Mary Evans, and in relating the matter to
Southey. He cannot get away from words; coming as near to sincerity as he
can, words are always between him and his emotion. Hence his over-emphasis,
his rhetoric of humility. In 1794 he writes to his brother George: "Mine
eyes gush out with tears, my heart is sick and languid with the weight of
unmerited kindness. " Nine days later he writes to his brother James: "My
conduct towards you, and towards my other brothers, has displayed a strange
combination of madness, ingratitude, and dishonesty. But you forgive me.
May my Maker forgive me! May the time arrive when I shall have forgiven
myself! " Here we see both what he calls his "gangrened sensibility" and a
complete abandonment to the feelings of the moment. It is always a self-
conscious abandonment, during which he watches himself with approval, and
seems to be saying: "Now that is truly 'feeling'! " He can never concentrate
himself on any emotion; he swims about in floods of his own tears. With so
little sense of reality in anything, he has no sense of the reality of
direct emotion, but is preoccupied, from the moment of the first shock, in
exploring it for its universal principle, and then nourishes it almost in
triumph at what he has discovered. This is not insincerity; it is the
metaphysical, analytical, and parenthetic mind in action. "I have
endeavoured to feel what I ought to feel," he once significantly writes.
Coleridge had many friends, to some of whom, as to Lamb, his friendship was
the most priceless thing in life; but the friendship which meant most to
him, not only as a man, but as a poet, was the friendship with Wordsworth
and with Dorothy Wordsworth.
donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers! *****
Title: Poems of Coleridge
Author: Coleridge, ed Arthur Symons
Release Date: June, 2005 [EBook #8208]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on July 2, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF COLERIDGE ***
Jonathan Ingram, Jerry Fairbanks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
POEMS OF COLERIDGE
SELECTED AND ARRANGED
WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES
BY
ARTHUR SYMONS
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER
CHRISTABEL
KUBLA KHAN
LEWTI
THE BALLAD OF THE DARK LADIE
LOVE
THE THREE GRAVES
DEJECTION: AN ODE
ODE TO TRANQUILLITY
FRANCE: AN ODE
FEARS IN SOLITUDE
THIS LIME-TREE BOWER MY PRISON
TO A GENTLEMAN (W. WORDSWORTH)
HYMN BEFORE SUN-RISE
FROST AT MIDNIGHT
THE NIGHTINGALE
THE EOLIAN HARP
THE PICTURE
THE GARDEN OF BOCCACCIO
THE TWO FOUNTS
A DAY-DREAM
SONNET
LINES TO W. LINLEY, ESQ.
DOMESTIC PEACE
SONG FROM _ZAPOLYA_
HUNTING SONG FROM _ZAPOLYA_
WESTPHALIAN SONG
YOUTH AND AGE
WORK WITHOUT HOPE
TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY
LOVE'S APPARITION
LOVE, HOPE, AND PATIENCE
DUTY SURVIVING SELF-LOVE
LOVE'S FIRST HOPE
PHANTOM
TO NATURE
FANCY IN NUBIBUS
CONSTANCY TO AN IDEAL OBJECT
PHANTOM OR FACT?
LINES SUGGESTED BY THE LAST WORDS OF BERENGARIUS
FORBEARANCE
_SANCTI DOMINICI PALLIUM_
ON DONNE'S POETRY
ON A BAD SINGER
_NE PLUS ULTRA_
HUMAN LIFE
THE BUTTERFLY
THE PANG MORE SHARP THAN ALL
THE VISIONARY HOPE
THE PAINS OF SLEEP
LOVE'S BURIAL-PLACE
LOVE, A SWORD
THE KISS
NOT AT HOME
NAMES (FROM LESSING)
To LESBIA (FROM CATULLUS)
THE DEATH OF THE STARLING (FROM CATULLUS)
ON A CATARACT (FROM STOLBERG)
HYMN TO THE EARTH (FROM STOLBERG)
THE VISIT OF THE GODS (FROM SCHILLER)
TRANSLATION (FROM OTTFRIED)
THE VIRGIN'S CRADLE-HYMN
EPITAPHS ON AN INFANT
AN ODE TO THE RAIN
ANSWER TO A CHILD'S QUESTION
SOMETHING CHILDISH, BUT VERY NATURAL
LINES ON A CHILD
THE KNIGHT'S TOMB
FIRE, FAMINE, AND SLAUGHTER
THE TWO ROUND SPACES ON THE TOMBSTONE
THE DEVIL'S THOUGHTS
COLOGNE
SONNETS ATTEMPTED IN THE MANNER OF CONTEMPORARY WRITERS
LIMBO
METRICAL FEET
THE HOMERIC HEXAMETER (FROM SCHILLER)
THE OVIDIAN ELEGIAC METRE (FROM SCHILLER)
CATULLIAN HENDECASYLLABLES (FROM MATTHISON)
To ----
EPITAPH ON A BAD MAN
THE SUICIDE'S ARGUMENT
THE GOOD, GREAT MAN
INSCRIPTION FOR A FOUNTAIN ON A HEATH
INSCRIPTION FOR A TIME-PIECE
A TOMBLESS EPITAPH
EPITAPH
NOTES
INTRODUCTION
In one of Rossetti's invaluable notes on poetry, he tells us that to him
"the leading point about Coleridge's work is its human love. " We may
remember Coleridge's own words:
"To be beloved is all I need,
And whom I love, I love indeed. "
Yet love, though it is the word which he uses of himself, is not really
what he himself meant when using it, but rather an affectionate sympathy,
in which there seems to have been little element of passion. Writing to his
wife, during that first absence in Germany, whose solitude tried him so
much, he laments that there is "no one to love. " "Love is the vital air of
my genius," he tells her, and adds: "I am deeply convinced that if I were
to remain a few years among objects for whom I had no affection, I should
wholly lose the powers of intellect. "
With this incessant, passionless sensibility, it was not unnatural that his
thirst for friendship was stronger than his need of love; that to him
friendship was hardly distinguishable from love. Throughout all his letters
there is a series of causeless explosions of emotion, which it is hardly
possible to take seriously, but which, far from being insincere, is really,
no doubt, the dribbling overflow of choked-up feelings, a sort of moral
leakage. It might be said of Coleridge, in the phrase which he used of
Nelson, that he was "heart-starved. " Tied for life to a woman with whom he
had not one essential sympathy, the whole of his nature was put out of
focus; and perhaps nothing but "the joy of grief," and the terrible and
fettering power of luxuriating over his own sorrows, and tracing them to
first principles, outside himself or in the depths of his sub-
consciousness, gave him the courage to support that long, everpresent
divorce.
Both for his good and evil, he had never been able to endure emotion
without either diluting or intensifying it with thought, and with always
self-conscious thought. He uses identically the same words in writing his
last, deeply moved letter to Mary Evans, and in relating the matter to
Southey. He cannot get away from words; coming as near to sincerity as he
can, words are always between him and his emotion. Hence his over-emphasis,
his rhetoric of humility. In 1794 he writes to his brother George: "Mine
eyes gush out with tears, my heart is sick and languid with the weight of
unmerited kindness. " Nine days later he writes to his brother James: "My
conduct towards you, and towards my other brothers, has displayed a strange
combination of madness, ingratitude, and dishonesty. But you forgive me.
May my Maker forgive me! May the time arrive when I shall have forgiven
myself! " Here we see both what he calls his "gangrened sensibility" and a
complete abandonment to the feelings of the moment. It is always a self-
conscious abandonment, during which he watches himself with approval, and
seems to be saying: "Now that is truly 'feeling'! " He can never concentrate
himself on any emotion; he swims about in floods of his own tears. With so
little sense of reality in anything, he has no sense of the reality of
direct emotion, but is preoccupied, from the moment of the first shock, in
exploring it for its universal principle, and then nourishes it almost in
triumph at what he has discovered. This is not insincerity; it is the
metaphysical, analytical, and parenthetic mind in action. "I have
endeavoured to feel what I ought to feel," he once significantly writes.
Coleridge had many friends, to some of whom, as to Lamb, his friendship was
the most priceless thing in life; but the friendship which meant most to
him, not only as a man, but as a poet, was the friendship with Wordsworth
and with Dorothy Wordsworth.
