Where Alph, the sacred river, ran So twice five miles of fertile ground But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted The shadow of the dome of pleasure It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice ! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And close your eyes with holy dread, And drunk the milk of Paradise. THE PAINS OF SLEEP. ERE on my bed my limbs I lay, My spirit I to Love compose, No wish conceived, no thought exprest, But yester-night I prayed aloud Sense of intolerable wrong, And whom I scorned, those only strong! Desire with loathing strangely mixed So two nights passed: the night's dismay The third night, when my own loud scream The unfathomable hell within The horror of their deeds to view, To know and loathe, yet wish and do ! And whom I love, I love indeed. LIMBO. 'Tis a strange place, this Limbo!-not a Place, Not mark'd by flit of Shades, -unmeaning they His whole face seemeth to rejoice in light!- No such sweet sights doth Limbo den immure, Hell knows a fear far worse, A fear-a future state;-'tis positive Negation ! NE PLUS ULTRA. SOLE Positive of Night! Fate's only essence! primal scorpion rod- Compacted to one sceptre Arms the Grasp enorm The Intercepter The Substance that still casts the shadow Death! The Dragon foul and fell The unrevealable, And hidden one, whose breath Gives wind and fuel to the fires of Hell! Ah! sole despair Of both th' eternities in Heaven! - Sole interdict of all-bedewing prayer, Reveal'd to none of all th' Angelic State, APOLOGETIC PREFACE TO FIRE, FAMINE, AND SLAUGHTER."* Ar the house of a gentleman, who, by the principles and corresponding virtues of a sincere Christian, consecrates a cultivated genius and the favorable accidents of birth, opulence, and splendid connections, it was my good fortune to meet, in a dinner-party, with more men of celebrity in science or polite literature, than are commonly found collected round the same table. In the course of conversation, one of the party reminded an illustrious poet, then present, of some verses which he had recited that morning, and which had appeared in a newspaper under the name of a War-Eclogue, in which Fire, Famine, and Slaughter were introduced as the speakers. The gentleman so addressed replied, that he was rather surprised that none of us should have noticed or heard of the poem, as it had been, at the time, a good deal talked of in Scotland. It may be easily supposed, that my feelings were at this moment not of the most comfortable kind. Of all present, one only knew, or suspected me to be the author; a man who would have established himself in the first rank of England's living poets, if the Genius of our country had not decreed that he should rather be the first in the first rank of its philosophers and scientific benefactors. It appeared the general wish to hear the lines. As my friend chose to remain silent, I chose to follow his example, and Mr. ***** recited the poem. This he could do with the better grace, being known to have ever been not only a firm and active Anti-Jacobin and Anti-Gallican, but likewise a zealous admirer of Mr. Pitt, both as a good man and a great statesman. As a poet exclusively, he had been amused with the Eclogue; as a poet he recited it; and in a spirit, which made it evident, that he would have read and repeated it with the same pleasure, had his own name been attached to the imaginary object or agent. After the recitation, our amiable host observed, that in his opinion Mr. ***** had overrated the merits of the poetry; but had they been tenfold greater, they could not have compensated for that malignity of heart, which could alone have prompted sentiments so atrocious. I perceived that my illustrious friend became greatly distressed on my account; but fortunately I was able to preserve fortitude and presence of mind enough to take up the subject without exciting even a suspicion how nearly and painfully it interested me. |