Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Anonymous, in Modern Parnassus; or, The new Art of Poetry, a Poem (1814) 45-46 &n.

And when the Muse's frenzy rolls his eye,
Above, below, around, in earth and sky;
When Nature, true to Fancy's strong controul,
Spreads all her stores before his raptur'd soul,
'Mid the dark horror of the mountain storm,
The tossing flood, the cliff's gigantic form;
Or, if serener visions sooth his breast,
Vales and green woods in all their glories drest,
Love's tender vow and Beauty's parting pain;
Amid this rich profusion, which the theme,
Cull'd from the rest, inspires his wondrous dream?
Oh censure not his choice, if, free from pride,
He takes the small and lays the vast aside,
Nature is Nature still, wherever seen,
In an owl's hooting,* or an ass's mien.

* The owls have hardly sung their last,
While our four travellers homeward wend;
The owls have hooted all night long,
And with the owls began my song,
And with the owls must end.
WORDSWORTH'S LYR. BAL. fourth edit. vol. i, p. 128.

Poor little foal, of an oppressed race!
I love the languid patience of thy face,
And oft, with gentle hand, I give thee bread,
And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head.
But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd,
That never thou dost sport along the glade?
Innocent foal! thou poor, despis'd forlorn,
I hail thee brother, spite of the fool's scorn.
POEMS BY S. T. COLERIDGE — Piece entitled, "To a young Ass, its Mother being tethered near it."