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And sweeter than the gentle south-west wind,
O’er willowy meads and shadow'd waters creeping,
And Ceres' golden fields ;-the sultry hind
Meets it with brow uplift, and stays his reaping.

NAMES.*
I ASK'D my fair one happy day,

What I should call her in my lay;
By what sweet name from Rome or Greece;
Lalage, Neæra, Chloris,
Sappho, Lesbia, or Doris,

Arethusa or Lucrece.

“Ah !" replied my gentle fair,
Beloved, what are names but air ?

Choose thou whatever suits the line ;
Call me Sappho, call me Chloris,
Call me Lalage or Doris,

Only, only call me thine.”

WATER BALLAD.*
“COME hither, gently rowing,

Come bear me quickly o’er
This stream so brightly flowing

To yonder woodland shore.

* Morning Post, August 27, 1799; and, with the names given somewhat differently, in The Keepsake for 1829.

+ The Athenæum, Oct. 29, 1831. [Now first included in any collection of Coleridge's Poems.]

VOL. II.

X

But vain were my endeavour

To pay thee, courteous guide; Row on, row on, for ever

I'd have thee by my side.

6

“Good boatman, prithee haste thee,
I seek my father-land."-
Say, when I there have placed thee,

Dare I demand thy hand?'
A maiden's head can never

So hard a point decide ;
Row on, row on,

for ever
I'd have thee by my side.”

The happy bridal over

The wanderer ceased to roam, For, seated by her lover,

The boat became her home. And still they sang together

As steering o'er the tide : “Row on through wind and weather

For ever by my side.”

DESIRE.

WHERE true Love burns Desire is Love's pure

flame;

It is the reflex of our earthly frame,
That takes its meaning from the nobler part,
And but translates the language of the heart.

LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP OPPOSITE.

HER attachment may differ from yours in degree, ,

Provided they are both of one kind; But Friendship how tender so ever it be

Gives no accord to Love, however refined.

Love, that meets not with Love, its true nature

revealing, Grows ashamed of itself, and demurs : If you cannot lift hers up to your state of feeling,

You must lower down your state to hers.

NOT AT HOME.
THAT Jealousy may rule a mind

Where Love could never be
I know; but ne'er expect to find

Love without Jealousy.

She has a strange cast in her ee,

A swart sour-visaged maid-
But yet Love's own twin-sister she

His house-mate and his shade.

Ask for her and she'll be denied :

What then ? they only mean
Their mistress has lain down to sleep,

And can't just then be seen.

TO A LADY,

OFFENDED BY A SPORTIVE OBSERVATION THAT

WOMEN HAVE NO SOULS.

NAY, dearest Anna! why so grave ?

I said, you had no soul, 'tis true ! For what you are, you cannot have :

'Tis I that have one since I first had you !

I HAVE heard of reasons manifold

Why Love must needs be blind, But this the best of all I hold

His eyes are in his mind.

What outward form and feature are

He guesseth but in part;
But what within is good and fair

He seeth with the heart.

LINES

SUGGESTED BY THE LAST WORDS OF BERENGARIUS.

OB. ANNO DOM. 1088. *

No

more 'twixt conscience staggering and the

Pope
Soon shall I now before my God appear,

* Literary Souvenir, 1827.

By him to be acquitted, as I hope ;
By him to be condemned, as I fear.-

REFLECTION ON THE ABOVE.

Lynx amid moles ! had I stood by thy bed,
Be of good cheer, meek soul! I would have said :
I see a hope spring from that humble fear.
All are not strong alike through storms to steer
Right onward. What though dread of threaten'd

death
And dungeon torture made thy hand and breath
Inconstant to the truth within thy heart ?
That truth, from which, through fear, thou twice

didst start,

Fear haply told thee, was a learned strife,
Or not so vital as to claim thy life :
And myriads had reach'd Heaven, who never knew
Where lay the difference 'twixt the false and true !

Ye, who secure ʼmid trophies not your own,
Judge him who won them when he stood alone,
And proudly talk of recreant Berengare-
O first the age, and then the man compare !
That age how dark ! congenial minds how rare !
No host of friends with kindred zeal did burn !
No throbbing hearts awaited his return !

Prostrate alike when prince and peasant fell,
He only disenchanted from the spell,

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