--
To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!
To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!
Coleridge - Poems
ha!
" quoth he, "full plain I see,
The Devil knows how to row. "
And now, all in my own countree,
I stood on the firm land!
The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.
"O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man! "
The Hermit crossed his brow.
"Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say
What manner of man art thou? "
Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.
Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns:
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.
I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach.
What loud uproar bursts from that door!
The wedding-guests are there:
But in the garden-bower the bride
And bride-maids singing are:
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!
O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.
O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company!
--
To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!
Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.
The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.
He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man,
He rose the morrow morn.
1797-1798.
[Footnote 1: For the last two lines of this stanza,
I am indebted to Mr. Wordsworth. It was on a delightful
walk from Nether Stowey
to Dulverton, with him and his sister, in the autumn of 1797,
that this poem was planned, and in part composed. [Note of
S. T. C. , first printed in _Sibylline Leaves_. ]]
CHRISTABEL
PART THE FIRST
'Tis the middle of night by the castle clock,
And the owls have awakened the crowing cock,"
Tu--whit!
The Devil knows how to row. "
And now, all in my own countree,
I stood on the firm land!
The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.
"O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man! "
The Hermit crossed his brow.
"Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say
What manner of man art thou? "
Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.
Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns:
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.
I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach.
What loud uproar bursts from that door!
The wedding-guests are there:
But in the garden-bower the bride
And bride-maids singing are:
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!
O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.
O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company!
--
To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!
Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.
The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.
He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man,
He rose the morrow morn.
1797-1798.
[Footnote 1: For the last two lines of this stanza,
I am indebted to Mr. Wordsworth. It was on a delightful
walk from Nether Stowey
to Dulverton, with him and his sister, in the autumn of 1797,
that this poem was planned, and in part composed. [Note of
S. T. C. , first printed in _Sibylline Leaves_. ]]
CHRISTABEL
PART THE FIRST
'Tis the middle of night by the castle clock,
And the owls have awakened the crowing cock,"
Tu--whit!
