Sonnets attempted in the manner of Contemporary Writers
[Signed "Nehemiah Higgingbottom"]
I
Pensive at eve on the hard world I mus'd,
And my poor heart was sad: so at the moon
I gaz'd-and sigh'd, and sigh'd!--for, ah! how soon
Eve darkens into night. Mine eye perus'd
With tearful vacancy the _dampy_ grass
Which wept and glitter'd in the paly ray;
And I did pause me on my lonely way,
And mused me on those wretched ones who pass
O'er the black heath of Sorrow. But, alas!
Most of Myself I thought: when it befell
That the sooth Spirit of the breezy wood
Breath'd in mine ear--"All this is very well;
But much of _one_ thing is for _no_ thing good."
Ah! my poor heart's inexplicable swell!
II
TO SIMPLICITY
O! I do love thee, meek _Simplicity_!
For of thy lays the lulling simpleness
Goes to my heart and soothes each small distress,
Distress though small, yet haply great to me!
'Tis true on Lady Fortune's gentlest pad
I amble on; yet, though I know not why,
So sad I am!--but should a friend and I
Grow cool and _miff_, O! I am _very_ sad!
And then with sonnets and with sympathy
My dreamy bosom's mystic woes I pall;
Now of my false friend plaining plaintively,
Now raving at mankind in general;
But, whether sad or fierce, 'tis simple all,
All very simple, meek Simplicity!
III
ON A RUINED HOUSE IN A ROMANTIC COUNTRY
And this reft house is that the which he built,
Lamented Jack! And here his malt he pil'd,
Cautious in vain! These rats that squeak so wild,
Squeak, not unconscious of their father's guilt.
Did ye not see her gleaming thro' the glade?
Belike, 'twas she, the maiden all forlorn.
What though she milk no cow with crumpled horn,
Yet _aye_ she haunts the dale where erst she stray'd;
And _aye_ beside her stalks her amorous knight!
Still on his thighs their wonted brogues are worn,
And thro' those brogues, still tatter'd and betorn,
His hindward charms gleam an unearthly white;
As when thro' broken clouds at night's high noon
Peeps in fair fragments forth the full--orb'd harvest-moon!
1797.
-THE END-
Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem: Sonnets attempted in the manner of Contemporary Writers
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