It is remarkable that when these obligations were particu larized, the passage borrowed from the Monody should not have been referred to its author. But this is but one of a thousand instances that could be given of Mr. Coleridge's partial and uncertain (though in some respects powerful) memory. In 1803 he published, without signature, among his own productions, Mr. Lamb's Sonnet to Mrs. Siddons, which had appeared in the edition of 1796, signed C. L., and in 1797 in Lamb's portion of the joint volume. PAGE 49.-SONNET III. This Sonnet, and the ninth, to "Stanhope," were among the pieces withdrawn from the second edition of 1797. They reappeared in the edition of 1803, and were again withdrawn in 1828, solely, it may be presumed, on account of their political vehemence. They will excite no angry feelings, and lead to no misapprehensions now; and as they are fully equal to their companions in poetical merit, the Editors have not scrupled to reproduce them. These Sonnets were originally entitled "Effusions." PAGE 115.-THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER. The following interesting notices concerning "The Ancient Mariner" are contained in a letter of the Rev. Alexander Dyce, the well-known admirable Editor of old Plays, to the late H. N. Coleridge: "When my truly honoured friend Mr. Wordsworth was last in London, soon after the appearance of De Quincey's papers inTait's Magazine,' he dined with me in Gray's Inn, and made the following statement, which, I am quite sure, I give you correctly: ""The Ancient Mariner" was founded on a strange dream, which a friend of Coleridge had, who fancied he saw a skeleton ship, with figures in it. We had both determined to write some poetry for a monthly magazine, the profits of which were to defray the expenses of a little excursion we were to make together. "The Ancient Mari aer was intended for this periodical, but was too long. 1 had very little share in the composition of it, for I soon found that the style of Coleridge and myself would not assimilate. Besides the lines (in the fourth part), "And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand," I wrote the stanza (in the first), " "He holds him with his glittering eye The Wedding-Guest stood still, And listens like a three-years' child: and four or five lines more in different parts of the poen, which I could not now point out. The idea of “shooting an albatross was mine; for I had been reading Shelvocke's Voyages, which probably Coleridge never saw. I also suggested the reanimation of the dead bodies, to work the ship."" See also "Memoirs of William Wordsworth," by Dr. Christopher Wordsworth, vol. i. chap. xi. p. 107-8. PAGE 266.-THE DAY-DREAM. This little poem first appeared in the "Morning Post," in 1802, but was doubtless composed in Germany. It seems to have been forgotten by its author, for this was the only occasion on which it saw the light through him. The Editors think that it will plead against parental neglect in the mind of most readers. ADDITIONAL NOTES BY THE AMERICAN EDITOR. PAGE 120. In the edition of 1817 this line is printed, "The furrow streamed off free;" and the following note is added: - "In the former edition the line was, The furrow streamed off free,' but I had not been long on board a ship, before I perceived that this was the image as seen by a spectator from the shore, or from another vessel. From the ship itself the wake appears like a brook flowing off from the stern." PAGE 124. The following verse is inserted here, in earlier editions: And whistled through his bones; Through the holes of his eyes and the hole of his mouth. END OF VOL. I. IV. POEMS OF VARIED CHARACTER. TO A YOUNG FRIEND, ON HIS PROPOSING TO DOMESTICATE WITH THE AUTHOR. COMPOSED IN 1796. A MOUNT, not wearisome and bare and steep, But a green mountain variously up-piled, Where o'er the jutting rocks soft mosses creep, Or coloured lichens with slow oozing weep; Where cypress and the darker yew start And 'mid the summer torrent's gentle dash Calm Pensiveness might muse herself to sleep; That rustling on the bushy cliff above, Made meek inquiry for her wandering lamb Such a green mountain 'twere most sweet to climb, |