Nor BRYMORE! may the muse forget Thy pleasant haunts, where once her votary wander'd; And nymphs and naiads deign the glade to grace, Or guide the rambler up thy velvet steeps O'er-looking ocean, and the fertile vales To Stowey's crystal streams, close at the feet Of Giant Quantock; where that lofty Bard COLERIDGE now lingers in poetic dreams. Thither ye Great and Affluent! ye who boast Of taste and feeling — ye who oft regret The fate of that wild BOY, whose Song Antique Pleas'd and deceiv'd innumerous sapient wights;— Who, stung by want, uprais'd his rude, rash hand Against himself — O thither bend your way! Or hide your heads and lip lament no more. COLERDIGE shall charm you with his song divine— If aught can charm or aught of song delight;— Though bold yet tender, simple yet sublime, With truth and eloquence to touch the heart, And all that kind benevolence intends Fitliest is his.
S. T. COLERIDGE late of Jesus College, Cambridge, whose abilities, while there, gave the world an earnest of what it may some day expect. Mr. COLERIDGE is the Author of that fine Vision in the second Book of Mr. SOUTHEY'S "JOAN OF ARC," a Poem which will be read as long as a love of Liberty, Liberality of Sentiment, and excellent Poetry shall exist. Mr. COLERIDGE is also the Author of a Volume of Poetry, which evinces vigour of thought, harmony of numbers and true pathos.
