10. "The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they; The look with which they looked on me 11. An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high; But oh! more horrible than that Is a curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, 12. "The moving moon went up the sky, And nowhere did abide: Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside. 13. "Her beams bemocked the sultry main, But where the ship's huge shadow lay, A still and awful red. 14. "Beyond the shadow of the ship They moved in tracks of shining white, 15. "Within the shadow of the ship Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, 16. "O happy living things! no tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gushed from my heart, 17. "The self-same moment I could pray; The albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea." Two dramas came from the pen of Coleridge. Zapoyla is comparatively unknown, but the other, Remorse, contains exquisite poetry, has a romantic plot, and displays at times great energy. It has elements of wild superstition in it, and there is an incantation scene, in which an invisible chorus conjures up the dead in the following tender lines: III.-Incantation Scene. 1. Hear, sweet spirit, hear the spell, In a chapel on the shore, Shall the chanters sad and saintly, Miserere Domine! a 2. Hark! the cadence dies away On the yellow moonlight sea; The boatmen rest their oars, and say, Miserere Domine! As a specimen of Coleridge's power of animated descrip a Mis'e-re're Dom'i-ne, O Lord! have mercy. tion, we quote, from the same tragedy, Alhadra's account, to the Moriscoes, of her husband's death. III. Alhadra's Account. 1. This night your chieftain armed himself 2. 3. After a while I saw the son of Valdez Rush by with flaming torch: he likewise entered. And once methought I heard the clash of swords! He flung his torch towards the moon in sport, I crept into the cavern 'Twas dark and very silent. What said'st thou? No, no! I did not dare call Isidore, Lest I should hear no answer. A brief while, Of that for which I came. After that pause- Came from that chasm! it was his last,-his death-groan. And agony that cannot be remembered, Listening with horrid hope to hear a groan! But I had heard his last, my husband's death-groan! I looked far down the pit My sight was bounded by a jutting fragment; And it was stained with blood. Then first I shrieked, And it said, Vengeance! Curses on my tongue! The influence of Coleridge was far greater than his published works indicated, for he was a fascinating talker, and was exceedingly suggestive to those who listened to him. He had a fine face, and a rich, melodious voice, and he talked with the happiest fluency. He could hardly be said to converse, as he occupied the time uninterruptedly, which led Charles Lamb to retort, when the poet asked if he had ever heard him preach, "I never heard you do anything else." The last nineteen years of his life Coleridge passed as an inmate of the house of Mr. James Gilman, in Highgate, London. A few months before his death, he composed for himself the following simple and humble Epitaph. Stop, Christian passer-by! Stop, child of God! He asked and hoped through Christ-do thou the same. CHAPTER XXXVI.-MISCELLANEOUS. The Face against the Pane. 1. Mabel, little Mabel, With her face against the pane, Till it seems like some old crone Standing out there all alone with her woe, Wringing as she stands Her gaunt and palsied hands; While Mabel, timid Mabel, With her face against the pane, 2. Set the table, maiden Mabel, And make the cabin warm; Your little fisher lover Is out there in the storm; And your father, you are weeping! O, Mabel, timid Mabel, Go spread the supper-table, |