And sweeter than the gentle south-west wind, 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, Choose thou whatever suits the line; Call me Sappho, call me Chloris, Only, only call me thine." WATER BALLAD.† "COME hither, gently rowing, This stream so brightly flowing * Morning Post, August 27, 1799; and, with the names given somewhat differently, in The Keepsake for 1829. The Athenæum, Oct. 29, 1831. any collection of Coleridge's Poems.] [Now first included in But vain were my endeavour To pay thee, courteous guide; Row on, row on, for ever I'd have thee by my side. "Good boatman, prithee haste thee, 'Say, when I there have placed thee, 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, LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP OPPOSITE. HER attachment may differ from yours in degree, But Friendship how tender so ever it be Love, that meets not with Love, its true nature revealing, If Grows ashamed of itself, and demurs: 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 I know; but ne'er expect to find She has a strange cast in her ee, Ask for her and she'll be denied :- TO A LADY, OFFENDED BY A SPORTIVE OBSERVATION THAT NAY, dearest Anna! why so grave? For what you are, you cannot have : I 'Tis I that have one since I first had you ! HAVE heard of reasons manifold Why Love must needs be blind, But this the best of all I hold— What outward form and feature are 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; 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 'mid trophies not your own, Prostrate alike when prince and peasant fell, |