Page:Poems on Various Subjects - Coleridge (1796).djvu/55

With introverted eye I contemplate
Similitude of soul, perhaps of—Fate!
To me hath Heaven with bounteous hand assign'd
Energic Reason and a shaping mind,
The daring ken of Truth, the Patriot's part,
And Pity's sigh, that breathes the gentle heart—
Sloth-jaundic'd all! and from my graspless hand
Drop Friendship's precious pearls, like hour glass sand.
I weep, yet stoop not! the faint anguish flows,
A dreamy pang in Morning's fev'rish doze.

Is this pil'd Earth our Being's passless mound?
Tell me, cold grave! is Death with poppies crown'd?
Tir'd Centinel! mid fitful starts I nod,
And fain would sleep, though pillow'd on a clod!

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