Poems by Hartley Coleridge With a Memoir of his Life by his Brother. In Two Volumes |
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CHILDHOOD. |
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Poems by Hartley Coleridge | ||
115
CHILDHOOD.
Oh what a wilderness were this sad worldIf man were always man, and never child;
If Nature gave no time, so sweetly wild,
When every thought is deftly crisped and curled,
Like fragrant hyacinth with dew impearled,
And every feeling in itself confiding,
Yet never single, but continuous, gliding
With wavy motion as, on wings unfurled,
A seraph clips Empyreal! Such man was
Ere sin had made him know himself too well.
No child was born ere that primeval loss.
What might have been, no living soul can tell:
But Heaven is kind, and therefore all possess
Once in their life fair Eden's simpleness.
Poems by Hartley Coleridge | ||