Poems by Hartley Coleridge With a Memoir of his Life by his Brother. In Two Volumes |
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TO MRS. CHARLES FOX. |
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Poems by Hartley Coleridge | ||
46
XLIV. TO MRS. CHARLES FOX.
Now the old trees are striving to be young,And the gay mosses of the Christmas days
To the fresh primrose must forego their praise:
Now every flower by vernal poets sung,
And every bird the [bursting] woods among,
And all the many-dappled banks and braes,
Recal remembrance of immortal lays,
But speak to me in a forgotten tongue.
Yea, dearest lady, they do speak to me
As to a banish'd man that hath forgot
Almost his mother's language, and cannot,
Without sore pain and stress of memory,
Reply to words that yet he hears with joy,
And by their strangeness make him half a boy.
Poems by Hartley Coleridge | ||