Poems Of Coleridge Part 24

Earth! thou mother of numberless children, the nurse and the mother, Hail! O G.o.ddess, thrice hail! Blest be thou! and, blessing, I hymn thee!

Forth, ye sweet sounds! from my harp, and my voice shall float on your surges-- Soar thou aloft, O my soul! and bear up my song on thy pinions.

Travelling the vale with mine eyes--green meadows and lake with green island, Dark in its basin of rock, and the bare stream flowing in brightness,

Thrill'd with thy beauty and love in the wooded slope of the mountain, Here, great mother, I lie, thy child, with his head on thy bosom!

Playful the spirits of noon, that rus.h.i.+ng soft through thy tresses, Green-hair'd G.o.ddess! refresh me; and hark! as they hurry or linger, Fill the pause of my harp, or sustain it with musical murmurs.

Into my being thou murmurest joy, and tenderest sadness Shedd'st thou, like dew, on my heart, till the joy and the heavenly sadness Pour themselves forth from my heart in tears, and the hymn of thanksgiving.

Earth! thou mother of numberless children, the nurse and the mother, Sister thou of the stars, and beloved by the Sun, the rejoicer!

Guardian and friend of the moon, O Earth, whom the comets forget not, Yea, in the measureless distance wheel round and again they behold thee!

Fadeless and young (and what if the latest birth of creation?) Bride and consort of Heaven, that looks down upon thee enamour'd!

Say, mysterious Earth! O say, great mother and G.o.ddess, Was it not well with thee then, when first thy lap was ungirdled, Thy lap to the genial Heaven, the day that he woo'd thee and won thee!

Fair was thy blush, the fairest and first of the blushes of morning!

Deep was the shudder, O Earth! the throe of thy self-retention: Inly thou strovest to flee, and didst seek thyself at thy centre!

Mightier far was the joy of thy sudden resilience; and forthwith Myriad myriads of lives teem'd forth from the mighty embracement.

Thousand-fold tribes of dwellers, impell'd by thousand-fold instincts, Fill'd, as a dream, the wide waters; the rivers sang on their channels; Laugh'd on their sh.o.r.es the hoa.r.s.e seas; the yearning ocean swell'd upward; Young life low'd through the meadows, the woods, and the echoing mountains, Wander'd bleating in valleys, and warbled on blossoming branches.

?1799.

THE VISIT OF THE G.o.dS

IMITATED FROM SCHILLER

Never, believe me, Appear the Immortals, Never alone: Scarce had I welcomed the Sorrow-beguiler, Iacchus! but in came Boy Cupid the Smiler; Lo! Phoebus the Glorious descends from his throne!

They advance, they float in, the Olympians all!

With Divinities fills my Terrestrial hall!

How shall I yield you Due entertainment, Celestial quire?

Me rather, bright guests! with your wings of upbuoyance Bear aloft to your homes, to your banquets of joyance, That the roofs of Olympus may echo my lyre!

Hah! we mount! on their pinions they waft up my soul!

O give me the nectar!

O fill me the bowl!

Give him the nectar!

Pour out for the poet, Hebe! pour free!

Quicken his eyes with celestial dew, That Styx the detested no more he may view, And like one of us G.o.ds may conceit him to be!

Thanks, Hebe! I quaff it! Io Paean, I cry!

The wine of the Immortals Forbids me to die!

? 1799.

TRANSLATION OF A Pa.s.sAGE IN OTTFRIED'S METRICAL PARAPHRASE OF THE GOSPEL

She gave with joy her virgin breast; She hid it not, she bared the breast Which suckled that divinest babe!

Blessed, blessed were the b.r.e.a.s.t.s Which the Saviour infant kiss'd; And blessed, blessed was the mother Who wrapp'd his limbs in swaddling clothes, Singing placed him on her lap, Hung o'er him with her looks of love, And soothed him with a lulling motion.

Blessed! for she shelter'd him From the damp and chilling air; Blessed, blessed! for she lay With such a bade in one blest bed, Close as babes and mothers lie!

Blessed, blessed evermore, With her virgin lips she kiss'd, With her arms, and to her breast, She embraced the babe divine, Her babe divine the virgin mother!

There lives not on this ring of earth A mortal that can sing her praise.

Mighty mother, virgin pure, In the darkness and the night For us she _bore_ the heavenly Lord!

? 1799.

THE VIRGIN'S CRADLE-HYMN

COPIED FROM A PRINT OF THE VIRGIN IN A CATHOLIC VILLAGE IN GERMANY

Dormi, Jesu! Mater ridet Quae tarn dulcem somnum videt, Dormi, Jesu! blandule!

Si non dormis, Mater plorat, Inter fila cantans orat, Blande, veni, somnule.

ENGLISH

Sleep, sweet babe! my cares beguiling: Mother sits beside thee smiling; Sleep, my darling, tenderly!

If thou sleep not, mother mourneth, Singing as her wheel she turneth: Come, soft slumber, balmily!

1811.

EPITAPH ON AN INFANT

Ere Sin could blight or Sorrow fade, Death came with friendly care; The opening bud to Heaven conveyed, And bade it blossom there.

1794.

ON AN INFANT WHICH DIED BEFORE BAPTISM

"Be, rather than be call'd, a child of G.o.d,"

Death whisper'd!--with a.s.senting nod, Its head upon its mother's breast, The Baby bow'd, without demur-- Of the kingdom of the Blest Possessor, not inheritor.

_April 8th_, 1799.