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A louder prelude, struck with fearless hand, Proclaims, who charms his friends can charm the land. If not condemn'd by Want's imperious call, To the loath'd counter, or the toilsome stall; Stretch'd at his ease, some lake's green verge along, He pours to rocks and waves his careless song.Or loves at noon on some warm slope to lie,And "tranquil muse upon tranquillity[1]."
- ↑ And thus, my love, as on the midway slopeOf yonder hill, I stretch my limbs at noon, Whilst through my half-clos'd eyelids I behold The sunbeams dance like diamonds on the main, And tranquil muse upon tranquillity, Pull many a thought, uncall'd and undetain'd, And many idle flitting phantasies, Traverse my indolent and passive brain.Coleridge's Poems, p. 130, third edit.
