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"Ode to Tranquillity", by Samuel Taylor Coleridge






Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Sibylline Leaves

(1817)





ODE TO TRANQUILLITY.




Tranquillity ! thou better name ⁠Than all the family of Fame ! ⁠Thou ne'er wilt leave my riper age ⁠To low intrigue, or factious rage: ⁠For oh ! dear child of thoughtful Truth, ⁠To thee I gave my early youth, And left the bark, and blest the stedfast shore, Ere yet the Tempest rose and scar'd me with its roar.

⁠Who late and lingering seeks thy shrine, ⁠On him but seldom, power divine, ⁠Thy spirit rests ! Satiety ⁠And sloth, poor counterfeits of thee, ⁠Mock the tired worldling. Idle Hope ⁠And dire Remembrance interlope, To vex the feverish slumbers of the mind: The bubble floats before, the spectre stalks behind.

⁠But me thy gentle hand will lead ⁠At morning through the accustom'd mead; ⁠And in the sultry summer's heat ⁠Will build me up a mossy seat ! ⁠And when the gust of Autumn crowds ⁠And breaks the busy moonlight-clouds, Thou best the thought canst raise, the heart attune, Light as the busy clouds, calm as the gliding Moon.

⁠The feeling heart, the searching soul, ⁠To thee I dedicate the whole ! ⁠And while within myself I trace ⁠The greatness of some future race, ⁠Aloof with hermit-eye I scan ⁠The present works of present man — A wild and dream-like trade of blood and guile, Too foolish for a tear, too wicked for a smile !




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