This page has been validated.
50
RECORDS OF THE AUTUMN.
II.
ON READING COLERIDGE'S EPITAPH WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
Spirit! so oft in radiant freedom soaring,
High through seraphic mysteries unconfined,
And oft, a diver through the deep of mind,
Its caverns, far below its waves, exploring;
And oft such strains of breezy music pouring,
As, with the floating sweetness of their sighs,
Could still all fevers of the heart, restoring
Awhile that freshness left in Paradise;
Say, of those glorious wanderings what the goal?
What the rich fruitage to man's kindred soul
From wealth of thine bequeathed? O strong, and high,
And sceptred intellect! thy goal confest
Was the Redeemer's Cross—thy last bequest
One lesson breathing thence profound humility!
