Samuel Taylor "Estese" Coleridge  (1772-1834)

Samuel Taylor Coleridgeâs life revolved mainly around writing and opium or some mixture of the two.  Towards the end of his life, opium was his chief occupation.  During his early years at Cambridge, women, alcohol, and opium landed him in £150 of debt.  To pay it off he joined the army.  However, since Coleridge was inept when it came to riding a horse he never fought.  His brother had Coleridge discharged from the army by reason of insanity.  From there, Coleridge returned to Cambridge.  He went on to pretty much kick off the Romantic Movement with his friend William Wodsworth.  During his day, he was known as a critic, though today we remember him mostly for his poetry.  Titles like ãKublai Kahnä and ãThe Rime of the Ancient Marinerä should ring bells.


Well, - they are gone: and here must I remain, 
Lam'd by the scathe of fire, lonely & faint 
This lime-tree bower my prison. They, meantime, 
My friends, whom I never more may meet again, 
On springy(*) heath, along the hill-top edge, 
Wander delighted, and look down, perchance, 
On that same rifted Dell, where many an Ash 
Twists it's wild limbs beside the ferny rock, 
Whose plumy ferns* for ever nod and drip 
Spray'd by the waterfall. But chiefly Thou, 
My gentle-hearted CHARLES! thou, who hast pin'd 
And hunger'd after Nature many a year In the great 
City pent, winning thy way 
With sad yet bowed soul, thro' evil and pain 
And strange calamity. - Ah slowly sink 
Behind the western ridge; thou glorious Sun! 
Shine in the slant beams of the sinking orb, 
Ye purple Heath-flowers! Richlier burn, ye Clouds! 
Live in the yellow Light, ye distant Groves! 
And kindle, thou blue Ocean! So my friend 
Struck with joy's deepest calm, and gazing round 
On the wide view,(**) may gaze till all doth seem 
Less gross than bodily, a living Thing 
That acts upon the mind, and with such hues 
As cloathe the Almighty Spirit, when yet he makes 
Spirits perceive His presence! 
A Delight 
Comes sudden on my heart, and I am glad 
As I myself were there! Nor in this bower 
Want I sweet sound or pleasing shapes. I watch'd 
The sunshine of each broad transparent Leaf 
Broke by the shadows of the Leaf or Stem, 
Which hung above it: and that Wall-nut Tree 
Was richly ting'd: and a deep radiance lay 
Full on the ancient ivy which usurps 
Those fronting elms, and now with blackest mass 
Makes their dark foliage gleam a lighter hue 
Thro' the last twilight. - And tho' the rapid bat 
Wheels silent by, and not a swallow twitters, 
Yet still the solitary humble-bee 
Sings in the bean flower. Henceforth I shall know 
That nature ne'er deserts the wise & pure, 
No scene so narrow, but may well employ 
Each faculty of sense, and keep the heart 
Awake to Love and Beauty: and sometimes 
'Tis well to be bereav'd of promis'd good, 
That we may lift the soul, & contemplate 
With lively joy the joys, we cannot share. 
My sister & my Friends! when the last Rook 
Beat it's straight path along the dusky air 
Homewards, I bless'd it; deeming, it's black wing 
Cross'd, like a speck, the blaze of setting day, 
While ye stood gazing; or when all was still, 
Flew creaking o'er your heads, and had a charm(*) 
For you, my Sister & my Friends! to whom 
No sound is dissonant, which tells of Life! 
* elastic, I mean (S.T.C.). 
* The ferns that grow in moist places, grow five or six together & form a complete "Prince of Wales's Feather" - i.e. plumy.
(S.T.C.). 
** You remember, I am a Berkleian. (S.T.C.). 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
1
 
 

5
 
 

10
 
 

15
 
 

20
 
 

25
 
 

30
 
 

35
 
 

40
 
 

45
 
 

50
 
 

55
 
 

60
 
 

65
 
 

70
 
 

75
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Well, they are gone, and here must I remain,
This lime-tree bower my prison! I have lost 
Beauties and feelings, such as would have been 
Most sweet to my remembrance even when age 
Had dimm'd mine eyes to blindness! They, meanwhile, 
Friends, whom I never more may meet again, 
On springy heath, along the hill-top edge, 
Wander in gladness, and wind down, perchance,
To that still roaring dell, of which I told; 
The roaring dell, o'erwooded, narrow, deep, 
And only speckled by the mid-day sun; 
Where its slim trunk the ash from rock to rock 
Flings arching like a bridge; - that branchless ash, 
Unsunn'd and damp, whose few poor yellow leaves 
Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still, 
Fann'd by the water-fall! and there my friends 
Behold the dark green file of long lank weeds,(*) 
That all at once (a most fantastic sight!) 
Still nod and drip beneath the dripping edge 
Of the blue clay-stone. 
Now, my friends emerge 
Beneath the wide wide Heaven - and view again 
The many-steepled tract magnificent 
Of hilly fields and meadows, and the sea, 
With some fair bark, perhaps, whose sails light up 
The slip of smooth clear blue betwixt two Isles 
Of purple shadow! Yes! they wander on 
In gladness all; but thou, methinks, most glad, 
My gentle-hearted Charles! for thou hast pined 
And hunger'd after Nature, many a year, 
In the great City pent, winning thy way 
With sad yet patient soul, through evil and pain 
And strange calamity! Ah! slowly sink 
Behind the western ridge, thou glorious Sun! 
Shine in the slant beams of the sinking orb, 
Ye purple heath-flowers! richlier burn, ye clouds! 
Live in the yellow light, ye distant groves! 
And kindle, thou blue Ocean! So my friend 
Struck with deep joy may stand, as I have stood, 
Silent with swimming sense; yea, gazing round 
On the wide landscape, gaze till all doth seem 
Less gross than bodily; and of such hues 
As veil the Almighty Spirit, when yet he makes 
Spirits perceive his presence.
A delight 
Comes sudden on my heart, and I am glad 
As I myself were there! Nor in this bower, 
This little lime-tree bower, have I not mark'd 
Much that has sooth'd me. Pale beneath the blaze 
Hung the transparent foliage; and I watch'd 
Some broad and sunny leaf, and lov'd to see 
The shadow of the leaf and stem above 
Dappling its sunshine! And that walnut-tree 
Was richly ting'd, and a deep radiance lay 
Full on the ancient ivy, which usurps 
Those fronting elms, and now, with blackest mass 
Makes their dark branches gleam a lighter hue 
Through the late twilight: and though now the bat 
Wheels silent by, and not a swallow twitters, 
Yet still the solitary humble-bee 
Sings in the bean-flower! Henceforth I shall know 
That Nature ne'er deserts the wise and pure; 
No plot so narrow, be but Nature there, 
No waste so vacant, but may well employ 
Each faculty of sense, and keep the heart 
Awake to Love and Beauty! and sometimes 
'Tis well to be bereft of promis'd good, 
That we may lift the soul, and contemplate 
With lively joy the joys we cannot share. 
My gentle-hearted Charles! when the last rook 
Beat its straight path along the dusky air 
Homewards, I blest it! deeming its black wing 
(Now a dim speck, now vanishing in light) 
Had cross'd the mighty Orb's dilated glory, 
While thou stood'st gazing; or, when all was still, 
Flew creeking o'er thy head, and had a charm(**) 
For thee, my gentle-hearted Charles, to whom 
No sound is dissonant which tells of Life.
* The Asplenium Scolopendrium, called in some countries the Adder's Tongue, in others the Hart's Tongue, but Withering gives the Adder's Tongue as the trivial name of the Ophioglossum only. 
** Some months after I had written this line, it gave me pleasure to find that Bartram had observed the same circumstance of the Savanna Crane, "When these Birds move their wings in flight, their strokes are slow, moderate and regular; and even when at a considerable distance or high above us, we plainly hear the quill-feathers: their shafts and webs upon one another creek as the joints or working of a vessel in a tempestuous sea." 

The original "This Lime Tree Bower My Prison" was not a published poem, but rather a part of a letter addressed to Robert Southey.  The revised version appeared in Robert Southey's "Annual Anthology of Febuary 1800."