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The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Volumes 1 and 2, gathers the young poet’s early verses, most of them first printed in the 1830s but written in the early 1790s. The collection opens with a rambling “Ode to Sleep” composed on an Exeter coach, a vivid, almost theatrical sketch of a night‑travel across Bagshot Heath that immediately reveals Coleridge’s habit of annotating his poems with precise dates, manuscript numbers, and footnotes. The opening pages are followed by a series of odes, sonnets, and fragmentary pieces, each introduced by manuscript identifiers (MS. O, MS. c) and surrounded by scholarly notes that locate the poet’s journeys, Plymtree Road, Ottery St Mary, Cambridge, while preserving the raw, often unfinished quality of his youthful drafts.
Coleridge’s voice here is unmistakably Romantic: a blend of fervent imagination, classical allusion, and a restless, self‑critical energy that oscillates between lyrical celebration and bitter self‑examination. The language is dense with archaic diction, elaborate metaphors, and occasional spelling quirks that reflect the manuscript origins. Readers who relish the formative stages of a major poet, enjoy close‑reading of early Romantic experimentation, or have an interest in literary history and textual scholarship will find this compilation rewarding.
The opening · free to read
Hence, soul-dissolving Harmony That lead'st th' oblivious soul astray-- Though thou sphere-descended be-- Hence away!-- Thou mightier Goddess, thou demand'st my lay, 5 Born when earth was seiz'd with cholic; Or as more sapient sages say, What time the Legion diabolic Compell'd their beings to enshrine In bodies vile of herded swine, 10 Precipitate adown the steep With hideous rout were plunging in the deep, And hog and devil mingling grunt and yell Seiz'd on the ear with horrible obtrusion;-- Then if aright old legendaries tell, 15 Wert thou begot by Discord on Confusion!
What though no name's sonorous power Was given thee at thy natal hour!-- Yet oft I feel thy sacred might, While concords wing their distant flight. 20 Such Power inspires thy holy son Sable clerk of Tiverton! And oft where Otter sports his stream, I hear thy banded offspring scream. Thou Goddess! thou inspir'st each throat; 25 'Tis thou who pour'st the scritch-owl note! Transported hear'st thy children all Scrape and blow and squeak and squall; And while old Otter's steeple rings, Clappest hoarse thy raven wings! 30
1791.
Farewell parental scenes! a sad farewell! To you my grateful heart still fondly clings, Tho' fluttering round on Fancy's burnish'd wings Her tales of future Joy Hope loves to tell. Adieu, adieu! ye much-lov'd cloisters pale! 5 Ah! would those happy days return again, When 'neath your arches, free from every stain, I heard of guilt and wonder'd at the tale! Dear haunts! where oft my simple lays I sang, Listening meanwhile the echoings of my feet, 10 Lingering I quit you, with as great a pang, As when erewhile, my weeping childhood, torn By early sorrow from my native seat, Mingled its tears with hers--my widow'd Parent lorn.
1791.
Where graced with many a classic spoil CAM rolls his reverend stream along, I haste to urge the learnéd toil That sternly chides my love-lorn song: Ah me! too mindful of the days 5 Illumed by Passion's orient rays, When Peace, and Cheerfulness and Health Enriched me with the best of wealth. Ah fair Delights! that o'er my soul On Memory's wing, like shadows fly! 10 Ah Flowers! which Joy from Eden stole While Innocence stood smiling by!-- But cease, fond Heart! this bootless moan: Those Hours on rapid Pinions flown Shall yet return, by Absence crown'd, 15 And scatter livelier roses round. The Sun who ne'er remits his fires On heedless eyes may pour the day: The Moon, that oft from Heaven retires, Endears her renovated ray. 20 What though she leave the sky unblest To mourn awhile in murky vest? When she relumes her lovely light, We bless the Wanderer of the Night.
1791.
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