SUPPLEMENT.

MONODY ON THE DEATH OF

CHATTERTON.

(ORIGINAL VERSION.)*

[This poem has since appeared in print, much altered, whether for the better I doubt. This was, I believe, written before the Author went to College. (Note by J. T. C.)]

NOW prompts the Muse poetic lays,

And high my bosom beats with love of praise, But, Chatterton ! methinks I hear thy name, For cold my fancy grows, and dead each hope of Fame.

When Want and cold Neglect had chill'd thy soul, Athirst for Death I see thee drain the bowl,

Thy corse of many a livid hue

On the bare ground I view,

* This original draught of Coleridge's Monody on Chatterton appears to have been produced at Christ's Hospital as a school exercise, together with the two following Poems. It is derived from a note-book in the handwriting of the late Sir John Taylor Coleridge, the nephew of the poet, kept at Eton College in 1807, which has been kindly placed at the publisher's disposal by his son, the present Lord Coleridge, of Ottery St. Mary.

While various passions all my mind engage :
Now is my breast distended with a sigh,
And now a flash of rage

Darts through the tear that glistens in my eye.

Is this the land of liberal heart?

Is this the land where Genius ne'er in vain
Pour'd forth her soul-enchanting strain?
Ah me! yet Butler 'gainst the bigot foe
Well skill'd to aim keen humour's dart,
Yet Butler felt want's poignant sting;
And Otway, master of the Tragic art,
Whom Pity's self had bade to sing,
Sunk beneath the load of woe

Which can the generous Briton ever hear
And starts not in his eye the indignant tear ?
Elate of Heart, and confident of fame

From vales, where Avon sports, the minstrel came.
Gay as the Poet hastes along

He meditates the future song,
How Ælla battled with his country's foes-

And while Fancy in the air

Paints him many a vision fair,

His eyes dance rapture, and his bosom glows!
With generous joy he views the rising gold,

He listens to many a widow's prayers,
And many an orphan's thanks he hears—
He soothes to peace the care-worn breast,
He bids the debtor's eyes know rest,
And liberty, and bliss behold.

* Sic in MS. Qy. "lists."-Ed.