 | Blank verse (1798) |  |
7
TO ---.
WRITTEN IN WORCESTERSHIRE, JULY 1797.
Escap'd the jarrings of the restless crowd,
Oh, my ---, I am well content
To loiter here awhile! My spirit fails,
And my heart aches when jostling with the crew
Which (goaded to activity by pain,
Or rous'd from squalid slowth and apathy
By maniac wickedness) annihilates
The soul's best attributes! The world to me
Seemeth the prison-house of man, where Power
And loathlier Wealth inflict on trembling slaves
The rackings of despair! And Love, and Truth,
And social Happiness, and meekest Peace
From every beaten path are fled afar.
Sometimes a glimpse of their sweet countenance
Blesses the solitary man, who roves
Musing 'mid Nature's silent majesty.
And so beseems it now—for to my breast
A mild assurance of predestin'd bliss
Stole most refreshingly, and with strange calm
Allay'd my feverish agonies of care,
My ruffled spirits boding, and the pang
Familiar to that heart which loveth not
The ways of human kind!
Oh, my ---, I am well content
To loiter here awhile! My spirit fails,
And my heart aches when jostling with the crew
Which (goaded to activity by pain,
Or rous'd from squalid slowth and apathy
By maniac wickedness) annihilates
The soul's best attributes! The world to me
Seemeth the prison-house of man, where Power
And loathlier Wealth inflict on trembling slaves
The rackings of despair! And Love, and Truth,
8
From every beaten path are fled afar.
Sometimes a glimpse of their sweet countenance
Blesses the solitary man, who roves
Musing 'mid Nature's silent majesty.
And so beseems it now—for to my breast
A mild assurance of predestin'd bliss
Stole most refreshingly, and with strange calm
Allay'd my feverish agonies of care,
My ruffled spirits boding, and the pang
Familiar to that heart which loveth not
The ways of human kind!
Yes, as I rov'd
Adown that glade, above whose simple brook
The inwoven thicket bends, and caught a gleam
That from the unseen west'ring orb of day
Stole faintly yellowing yon cowslip bank,
Whose cool recess look'd quietness; each sense
Slumbering in soft enchantment minist'red
Its hallow'd workings to the lifted soul.
Adown that glade, above whose simple brook
The inwoven thicket bends, and caught a gleam
9
Stole faintly yellowing yon cowslip bank,
Whose cool recess look'd quietness; each sense
Slumbering in soft enchantment minist'red
Its hallow'd workings to the lifted soul.
Often in no uninterested mood
I've told thee that there were of noble souls
Who deem'd it wise, e'en in the morn of youth,
To quit this world ! (a scene in my poor thought
Deliver'd over long by outrag'd Heaven
To wasting fiends, and unrepenting guilt,)
They counted still beyond the Atlantic deep
To find those virtues, of whose sweets bereft
The unearthly soul calleth its sojourn here
A most impure enthralment! Oh my best friend,
That I had liv'd in high-soul'd fellowship
With such as fancy pictures these might be,
Tried spirits, and unspotted from the world!
But I must sicken thy awaken'd soul,
Storying their blasted hopes! Yet, honour'd few,
The seeds that ye have sown, the unworldly dreams,
The lofty thoughts, disinterested loves,
That ye have nurs'd, silently long shall work
In beings unknown, regenerating thus
Full many a guilt-vex'd mind, that, but for you,
Had sunken in dismay (now animate
With noblest emulation), and to truth
Leavening each baser wish, shall perfect them!
Yes! it shall rise again, your godlike scheme;
And every fleshly lust, and every sin,
Pampering the subtleties of selfish pride,
Shall vanish swiftly, as the morning cloud,
From its most holy influence; and all those,
Who struggled with the spirit of this world,
Shall come forth with unutterable joy,
And (as with recognition of dear friends
Long lost, and sought for) join the elect of Heaven.
Meanwhile, till I may find a brother heart,
Stain not my soul with sin, ye tainted scenes
That rise around! Oh keep me, gracious Heaven!
That to the councils of the wicked ones
I enter not! Man's strength is weakness; him
It booteth most to feel that he is frail,
And all, mistrusting wisdom self-deriv'd,
Stand trembling at the gate where Sin doth dwell.
Then let us, ---, watch aloof,
Till the long night be past, that, so prepar'd,
We, with the first redeem'd from this bad world,
May hail the promis'd time, when pain and grief
Shall be no more; of love and blessedness
The hallow'd advent; and with unstain'd hands
Circle the grassy altar which shall rise
In every grove and mead, when equal man
Shall deem the world his temple, to that God,
Who destin'd all his creatures to be good,
And who, with sympathies of holiest love,
Shall teach best fellowship with kindred souls,
Or loftier breathings of devoutest praise.
I've told thee that there were of noble souls
Who deem'd it wise, e'en in the morn of youth,
To quit this world ! (a scene in my poor thought
Deliver'd over long by outrag'd Heaven
To wasting fiends, and unrepenting guilt,)
10
To find those virtues, of whose sweets bereft
The unearthly soul calleth its sojourn here
A most impure enthralment! Oh my best friend,
That I had liv'd in high-soul'd fellowship
With such as fancy pictures these might be,
Tried spirits, and unspotted from the world!
But I must sicken thy awaken'd soul,
Storying their blasted hopes! Yet, honour'd few,
The seeds that ye have sown, the unworldly dreams,
The lofty thoughts, disinterested loves,
That ye have nurs'd, silently long shall work
In beings unknown, regenerating thus
Full many a guilt-vex'd mind, that, but for you,
Had sunken in dismay (now animate
With noblest emulation), and to truth
11
Yes! it shall rise again, your godlike scheme;
And every fleshly lust, and every sin,
Pampering the subtleties of selfish pride,
Shall vanish swiftly, as the morning cloud,
From its most holy influence; and all those,
Who struggled with the spirit of this world,
Shall come forth with unutterable joy,
And (as with recognition of dear friends
Long lost, and sought for) join the elect of Heaven.
12
Stain not my soul with sin, ye tainted scenes
That rise around! Oh keep me, gracious Heaven!
That to the councils of the wicked ones
I enter not! Man's strength is weakness; him
It booteth most to feel that he is frail,
And all, mistrusting wisdom self-deriv'd,
Stand trembling at the gate where Sin doth dwell.
Then let us, ---, watch aloof,
Till the long night be past, that, so prepar'd,
We, with the first redeem'd from this bad world,
May hail the promis'd time, when pain and grief
Shall be no more; of love and blessedness
The hallow'd advent; and with unstain'd hands
Circle the grassy altar which shall rise
In every grove and mead, when equal man
13
Who destin'd all his creatures to be good,
And who, with sympathies of holiest love,
Shall teach best fellowship with kindred souls,
Or loftier breathings of devoutest praise.
This alludes to a plan projected by S. T. Coleridge and Robert Southey, together with some common friends, of establishing a society in America, in which all individual property was to be abandoned.
Wherever the word elect is used in the following pages, the authors by no means intend the arbitrary dogma of Calvinism. They are both believers in the doctrine of philosophical necessity, and in the final happiness of all mankind. They apply the word elect therefore to those persons whom secondary causes, under providence, have fitted for an immediate entrance into the paradisiacal state.
| Blank verse (1798) | |