Samuel Taylor Coleridge 1772 1834 Born in Ottery

Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772 -1834) • • • Born in Ottery St. Mary in Devonshire Father died when he was eight; sent to school in London Studied at Cambridge, but left to join the Light Dragoons in 1793 under the alias Silas Tomkyn Comberbache; was not a skilled soldier; returned to Cambridge but didn’t finish his studies In 1794 met Robert Southey, a student at Oxford; together planned to establish a democratic community in America— ”Pantisocracy” (equal rule by all) Married Sara Fricker; later became more conservative in politics and a member of Anglican church 1795 met Wordsworth, judged him „the best poet of the age”

Coleridge cottage near Nether Stowey, Somerset, where Coleridge lived when he and Wordsworth published Lyrical Ballads § § § 1798 publication of Lyrical Ballads, joint project with Wordsworth Considered becoming a Unitarian minister to support himself, but received a letter from Josiah Wedgwood, a wealthy businessman, offering to support his creative work on condition that he not become a minister Beginning in September 1798 travelled with Wordsworth to Germany; stayed on his own to study German; became interested in philosophy of Kant and the literary criticism of Lessing Later translated Friedrich Schiller’s works into English In 1799 stayed on a farm near Darlington where he wrote his ballad poem Love (later inspired Keats’ poem La Belle Dame Sans Merci)

Scafell (964 m, second highest in England) in the Lake District v Lived with the Wordsworths for eighteen months at Grasmere, but was a difficult houseguest (dependency on laudunum and a picky eater) fell in love with Sara Hutchinson v In 1802 made the first recorded descent of Scafell to Mickledore v 1804 -1811: travels to Italy and Malta; separated from his wife; quarrelled with Wordsworth; became more dependent on opium v In 1809 published the journal The Friend v 1810 -1820 gave influential lecture series on Shakespeare in Bristol and London; rescued Hamlet’s reputation v 1816 moved in with a physician and his family, Dr. Gillman, north of London; remained there until his death; finished his Biographia Literaria there

Kublai Khan monument in Shangdu, inner Mongolia Kubla Khan Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment. In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round; And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incensebearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced: Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail: And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river.

Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean; And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war! The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight ’twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.

RAPT in the visionary theme! SPIRIT DIVINE! with THEE I'll wander, Where the blue, wavy, lucid stream, 'Mid forest glooms, shall slow meander! With THEE I'll trace the circling bounds Of thy NEW PARADISE extended; And listen to the varying sounds Of winds, and foamy torrents blended.

Now by the source which lab'ring heaves The mystic fountain, bubbling, panting, While Gossamer its net-work weaves, Adown the blue lawn slanting! I'll mark thy sunny dome, and view Thy Caves of Ice, thy fields of dew! Thy ever-blooming mead, whose flow'r Waves to the cold breath of the moonlight hour! Or when the day-star, peering bright On the grey wing of parting night; While more than vegetating pow'r Throbs grateful to the burning hour, As summer's whisper'd sighs unfold Her million, million buds of gold; Then will I climb the breezy bounds, Of thy NEW PARADISE extended, And listen to the distant sounds Of winds, and foamy torrents blended!

SPIRIT DIVINE! With THEE I'll trace Imagination's boundless space With thee, beneath thy sunny dome, I'll listen to the minstrel's lay, Hymning, the gradual close of day; In Caves of Ice enchanted roam, Where on the glitt'ring entrance plays The moon's-beam with its silv'ry rays; Or, when glassy stream, That thro' the deep dell flows, Flashes the noon's hot beam; The noon's hot beam, that midway shows Thy flaming Temple, studded o'er With all PERUVIA'S lustrous store! There will I trace the circling bounds Of thy NEW PARADISE extended! And listen to the awful sounds, Of winds, and foamy torrents blended!

And now I'll pause to catch the moan Of distant breezes, cavern-pent; Now, ere the twilight tints are flown, Purpling the landscape, far and wide, On the dark promontory's side I'll gather wild flow'rs, dew besprent, And weave a crown for THEE, GENIUS OF HEAV'N-TAUGHT POESY! While, op'ning to my wond'ring eyes, Thou bidst a new creation rise, I'll raptur'd trace the circling bounds, Of thy RICH PARADISE extended, And listen to the varying sounds Of winds, and foaming torrents blended.

And now, with lofty tones inviting, Thy NYMPH, her dulcimer swift smiting, Shall wake me in ecstatic measures! Far, far remov'd from mortal pleasures! In cadence rich, in cadence strong, Proving the wondrous witcheries of song! I hear her voice! thy sunny dome, Thy caves of ice, loud repeat, Vibrations, madd'ning sweet, Calling the visionary wand'rer home. She sings of THEE, O favour'd child Of Minstrelsy, SUBLIMELY WILD! Of thee, whose soul can feel the tone Which gives to airy dreams a magic ALL THY OWN! --Mary Robinson

Christ’s Hospital, charity school that Coleridge attended in West Sussex; memories of his time there are contained in Frost at Midnight a „conversation poem” written by Coleridge to celebrate the birth of his son, Hartley, at Stowey in 1798 The series title was devised to describe verse where Coleridge incorporates conversational language while examining higher ideas of nature and morality* *Wikipedia

„Only that film, which fluttered on the grate, still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing. Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature gives it dim sympathies with me who live, making it a companionable form, whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit by its own moods interprets, every where echo or mirror seeking of itself, and makes a toy of Thought. ” „In all parts of the kingdom these films are called strangers and supposed to portend the arrival of some absent friend. ” (a piece of soot fluttering on the bar of the grate

„But thou, my babe! shalt wander like a breeze by lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds which image in their bulk both lakes and shores and mountain crags: so shalt thou see and hear the lovely shapes and sounds intelligible of that eternal language, which thy God utters, who from eternity doth teach Himself in all, and all things in himself. Great universal Teacher! he shall mould thy spirit, and by giving make it ask. ”

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner „I readily believe that there are more invisible than visible Natures in the universe. But who will explain for us the family of all these beings, and the ranks and relations and distinguishing features and functions of each? What do they do? What places do they inhabit? The human mind has always sought the knowledge of these things, but never attained it. ” epigraph to the poem, taken from Thomas Burnet, Archaelogiae Philosophicae

„Her lips were red, her looks were free, her locks were yellow as gold: her skin was as white as leprosy, the Night-mare Life-in-Death was she, who thicks man’s blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, and the twain were casting dice: ‚The game is done!’ I’ve won!’ Quoth she, and whistles thrice. ” from Part 3

„Alone, all, all alone, alone on a wide sea! And never a saint took pity on my soul in agony. The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: and a thousand slimy things lived on; and so did I. ” from Part 4

„An orphan’s curse would drag to hell a spirit from on high; But oh! More horrible than that is the curse in a dead man’s eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, and yet I could not die…. beyond the shadow of the ship I watched the water-snakes: they moved in tracks of shining white, and when they reared, the elfish light fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: blue, glossy green, and velvet black, they coiled and swam; and every track was a flash of golden fire. O happy living things! no tongue their beauty might declare: a spring of love gushed from my heart, and I blessed them unaware: sure my kind saint took pity on me, and I blessed them unaware. The selfsame moment I could pray; and from my neck so free the Albatross fell off, and sank like lead into the sea. ” from Part 4

„Is it he? ’ quoth one, ‚Is this the man? By him who died on cross, with his cruel bow he laid full low the harmless Albatross. The spirit who bideth by himself in the land of mist and snow, he loved the bird that loved the man who shot him with his bow. ” from Part 5

„O shrieve me, holy man!’ the Hermit crossed his brow. ‚Say quick, ’ quoth he, ‚I bid thee say—what manner of man art thou? ’ Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched with a woful agony, which forced me to begin my tale; and then it left me free…O sweeter than the marriage-feast, ‚tis sweeter far to me, to walk together to the kirk with a goodly company—to walk together to the kirk, and all together pray, while each to his great Father bends, old men, and babes, and loving friends, and youths and maidens gay! Farewell, farewell! but this I tell to thee, thou Wedding-Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who loveth best all things both great and small; for the dear God who loveth us, he made and loveth all. ” from Part 7

To William Wordsworth (1807) „…and what within the mind by vital breathings secret as the soul of vernal growth, oft quickens in the heart thoughts all too deep for words!— (Wordsworth had described the effect on his mind of the animating breeze)

„Theme hard as high! Of smile spontaneous, and mysterious fears (The first-born they of Reason and twin birth), of tides obedient to external force, and currents self-determined, as might seem, or by some inner power; of moments awful, now in thy inner life, and now abroad, when power streamed from thee, and thy soul received the light reflected, as a light bestowed--…of that dear Hope afflicted and struck down, so summoned homeward, thenceforth calm and sure from the dread watch-tower of man’s absolute self. ”