COLERIDGE! methinks it were most "dainty" sweet, (Whilst unperceiv'd the hours are flitting by, And the mind broods on some strange phantasy) Like thee to glow with true "Southeian heat:" Yea, I "do" love thy "soul-ennobling" aim, To see, in "no unprofitable" mood, Thy spirit "yearn" for much "of" real good, The poet's bays, and "aye-enduring" fame. The lot of "hireling minister," or King, "Not envying," with soft Eolian lyre, In strains "most simple" oftimes dost thou sing, What "independent" fancy doth inspire. This "heart-approving" plan pursue, sweet Bard! So wilt thou gain, ere long, thy JUST REWARD.