Poems by Hartley Coleridge With a Memoir of his Life by his Brother. In Two Volumes |
 | I. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
|
| II. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
|
|
|
HIDDEN MUSIC. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
 | Poems by Hartley Coleridge |  |
167
HIDDEN MUSIC.
There came a stream of music on my ear
From the dark centre of an aged wood,
Now muffled deep, and now ecstatic clear,
Bright as a prophecy of coming good.
From the dark centre of an aged wood,
Now muffled deep, and now ecstatic clear,
Bright as a prophecy of coming good.
I knew not, and I did not care to know,
What voice or what mechanic instrument
Utter'd the sounds, whose never-ending flow
[Contain'd] my soul in such sublime content.
What voice or what mechanic instrument
Utter'd the sounds, whose never-ending flow
[Contain'd] my soul in such sublime content.
'Twas no small, light, and self-repeating air,
The close we guess before 'tis well begun;
'Twas the united voice of everywhere,
Past, present, future, all in unison.
The close we guess before 'tis well begun;
'Twas the united voice of everywhere,
Past, present, future, all in unison.
It was a strain might usher in the birth
Of human life, and soothe its earliest cry,
And sound the last farewell to mother earth,
When souls for heaven mature are glad to fly.
Of human life, and soothe its earliest cry,
And sound the last farewell to mother earth,
When souls for heaven mature are glad to fly.
168
All elements of sound, and all the wealth
Of music's universal speech was there,
And ever and anon the wily stealth
Of Love was murmuring in the fitful air.
Of music's universal speech was there,
And ever and anon the wily stealth
Of Love was murmuring in the fitful air.
| Poems by Hartley Coleridge | |