The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume I Part 165

[477:6] As I am Rhymer, _F. O._, _P. W._, 1834, 1893. The 'a' is inserted by Coleridge on a page of _F. O._, 1834; the correction was not adopted in _P. W._, 1834.

[477:7] The _apotheosis_ of Rhenish wine.

THE GARDEN OF BOCCACCIO[478:1]

Or late, in one of those most weary hours, When life seems emptied of all genial powers, A dreary mood, which he who ne'er has known May bless his happy lot, I sate alone; And, from the numbing spell to win relief, 5 Call'd on the Past for thought of glee or grief.

In vain! bereft alike of grief and glee, I sate and cow'r'd o'er my own vacancy!

And as I watch'd the dull continuous ache, Which, all else slumb'ring, seem'd alone to wake; 10 O Friend[478:2]! long wont to notice yet conceal, And soothe by silence what words cannot heal, I but half saw that quiet hand of thine Place on my desk this exquisite design.

Boccaccio's Garden and its faery, 15 The love, the joyaunce, and the gallantry!

An Idyll, with Boccaccio's spirit warm, Framed in the silent poesy of form.

Like flocks adown a newly-bathed steep Emerging from a mist: or like a stream 20 Of music soft that not dispels the sleep, But casts in happier moulds the slumberer's dream, Grazed by an idle eye with silent might The picture stole upon my inward sight.

A tremulous warmth crept gradual o'er my chest, 25 As though an infant's finger touch'd my breast.

And one by one (I know not whence) were brought All spirits of power that most had stirr'd my thought In selfless boyhood, on a new world tost Of wonder, and in its own fancies lost; 30 Or charm'd my youth, that, kindled from above, Loved ere it loved, and sought a form for love; Or lent a l.u.s.tre to the earnest scan Of manhood, musing what and whence is man!

Wild strain of Scalds, that in the sea-worn caves 35 Rehea.r.s.ed their war-spell to the winds and waves; Or fateful hymn of those prophetic maids, That call'd on Hertha in deep forest glades; Or minstrel lay, that cheer'd the baron's feast; Or rhyme of city pomp, of monk and priest, 40 Judge, mayor, and many a guild in long array, To high-church pacing on the great saint's day: And many a verse which to myself I sang, That woke the tear, yet stole away the pang Of hopes, which in lamenting I renew'd: 45 And last, a matron now, of sober mien, Yet radiant still and with no earthly sheen, Whom as a faery child my childhood woo'd Even in my dawn of thought--Philosophy; Though then unconscious of herself, pardie, 50 She bore no other name than Poesy; And, like a gift from heaven, in lifeful glee, That had but newly left a mother's knee, Prattled and play'd with bird and flower, and stone, As if with elfin playfellows well known, 55 And life reveal'd to innocence alone.

Thanks, gentle artist! now I can descry Thy fair creation with a mastering eye, And all awake! And now in fix'd gaze stand, Now wander through the Eden of thy hand; 60 Praise the green arches, on the fountain clear See fragment shadows of the crossing deer; And with that serviceable nymph I stoop, The crystal, from its restless pool, to scoop.

I see no longer! I myself am there, 65 Sit on the ground-sward, and the banquet share.

'Tis I, that sweep that lute's love-echoing strings, And gaze upon the maid who gazing sings: Or pause and listen to the tinkling bells From the high tower, and think that there she dwells.

With old Boccaccio's soul I stand possest, 71 And breathe an air like life, that swells my chest.

The brightness of the world, O thou once free, And always fair, rare land of courtesy!

O Florence! with the Tuscan fields and hills 75 And famous Arno, fed with all their rills; Thou brightest star of star-bright Italy!

Rich, ornate, populous,--all treasures thine, The golden corn, the olive, and the vine.

Fair cities, gallant mansions, castles old, 80 And forests, where beside his leafy hold The sullen boar hath heard the distant horn, And whets his tusks against the gnarled thorn; Palladian palace with its storied halls; Fountains, where Love lies listening to their falls; 85 Gardens, where flings the bridge its airy span, And Nature makes her happy home with man; Where many a gorgeous flower is duly fed With its own rill, on its own spangled bed, And wreathes the marble urn, or leans its head, 90 A mimic mourner, that with veil withdrawn Weeps liquid gems, the presents of the dawn;-- Thine all delights, and every muse is thine; And more than all, the embrace and intertwine Of all with all in gay and twinkling dance! 95 Mid G.o.ds of Greece and warriors of romance, See! Boccace sits, unfolding on his knees The new-found roll of old Maeonides;[480:1]

But from his mantle's fold, and near the heart, Peers Ovid's Holy Book of Love's sweet smart![480:2] 100 O all-enjoying and all-blending sage, Long be it mine to con thy mazy page, Where, half conceal'd, the eye of fancy views Fauns, nymphs, and winged saints, all gracious to thy muse!

Still in thy garden let me watch their pranks, 105 And see in Dian's vest between the ranks Of the trim vines, some maid that half believes The vestal fires, of which her lover grieves, With that sly satyr peeping through the leaves!

1828.

FOOTNOTES:

[478:1] First published in _The Keepsake_ for 1829, to accompany a plate by Stothard: included in 1829 and 1834. The variant of lines 49-56, probably a fragment of some earlier unprinted poem, is inserted in one of Coleridge's Notebooks.

[478:2] Mrs. Gillman.

[480:1] Boccaccio claimed for himself the glory of having first introduced the works of Homer to his countrymen.

[480:2] I know few more striking or more interesting proofs of the overwhelming influence which the study of the Greek and Roman cla.s.sics exercised on the judgments, feelings, and imaginations of the literati of Europe at the commencement of the restoration of literature, than the pa.s.sage in the _Filocopo_ of Boccaccio, where the sage instructor, Racheo, as soon as the young prince and the beautiful girl Biancofiore had learned their letters, sets them to study the Holy Book, Ovid's Art of Love. 'Incominci Racheo a mettere il suo [officio] in esecuzione con intera sollecitudine. E loro, in breve tempo, insegnato a conoscer le lettere, fece leggere il santo libro d'Ovvidio, [!! _S. T. C._] nel quale il sommo poeta mostra, come i santi fuochi di Venere si debbano ne' freddi cuori con sollecitudine accendere.' ['Deeply interesting--but observe, p. 63, ll. 33-5 [_loc. cit._], The _holy Book_--Ovid's Art of Love!! This is not the result of mere Immorality:--

Multum, Multum Hic jacet sepultum.'

MS. note on the fly-leaf of S. T. C.'s copy of vol. i of Boccaccio's _Opere_, 1723.]

LINENOTES:

[49-56]

And there was young Philosophy Unconscious of herself, pardie; And now she hight poesy, And like a child in playful glee Prattles and plays with flower and stone, As youth's fairy playfellows Revealed to Innocence alone.

MS. S. T. C.

[59] all] _all_ Keepsake, 1829.

[108] vestal] _vestal_ Keepsake, 1829.

LOVE, HOPE, AND PATIENCE IN EDUCATION[481:1]

O'er wayward childhood would'st thou hold firm rule, And sun thee in the light of happy faces; Love, Hope, and Patience, these must be thy graces, And in thine own heart let them first keep school.

For as old Atlas on his broad neck places 5 Heaven's starry globe, and there sustains it;--so Do these upbear the little world below Of Education,--Patience, Love, and Hope.

Methinks, I see them group'd in seemly show, The straiten'd arms upraised, the palms aslope, 10 And robes that touching as adown they flow, Distinctly blend, like snow emboss'd in snow.

O part them never! If Hope prostrate lie, Love too will sink and die.

But Love is subtle, and doth proof derive 15 From her own life that Hope is yet alive; And bending o'er, with soul-transfusing eyes, And the soft murmurs of the mother dove, Woos back the fleeting spirit, and half supplies;-- Thus Love repays to Hope what Hope first gave to Love.

Yet haply there will come a weary day, 21 When overtask'd at length Both Love and Hope beneath the load give way.

Then with a statue's smile, a statue's strength, Stands the mute sister, Patience, nothing loth, 25 And both supporting does the work of both.

1829.

FOOTNOTES:

[481:1] First published in _The Keepsake_ for 1830: included in _P. W._, 1834, iii. 381. An MS. version was forwarded to W. Sotheby in an unpublished letter of July 12, 1829. A second MS., dated July 1, 1829, is inscribed in an alb.u.m now in the Editor's possession, which belonged to Miss Emily Trevenen (the author of _Little Derwent's Breakfast_, 1839). With regard to the variant of ll. 24-6, vide _infra_, Coleridge writes (Letter of July 12, 1829):--'They were struck out by the author, not because he thought them bad lines in themselves (quamvis Delia Cruscam forta.s.se nimis redolere videantur), but because they diverted and r.e.t.a.r.ded the stream of the thought, and injured the organic unity of the composition. _Piu nel uno_ is Francesco de Sallez' brief and happy definition of the beautiful, and the shorter the poem the more indispensable is it that the _Piu_ should not overlay the _Uno_, that the unity should be evident. But to sacrifice the _gratification_, the sting of _pleasure_, from a fine _pa.s.sage_ to the _satisfaction_, the sense of _complacency_ arising from the contemplation of a symmetrical _Whole_ is among the last conquests achieved by men of genial powers.'

LINENOTES:

t.i.tle] Lines in a Lady's Alb.u.m in answer to her question respecting the accomplishments most desirable in the Mistress or Governess of a Preparatory School Letter, July 1829: The Poet's Answer, To a Lady's Question respecting the accomplishments most desirable in an instructress of Children Keepsake, 1830.

[2] And] Yet Letter, 1829.

[3] thy] _thy_ Keepsake.

[4] keep school] _keep school_ Keepsake.

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