Page:Poems on Various Subjects - Coleridge (1796).djvu/166

 Fill their Seven Vials with salutary wrath, To sickly Nature more medicinal That what soft balm the weeping good man pours Into the lone despoiled trav'ller's wounds!

Thus from th' Elect, regenerate thro' faith, Pass the dark Passions and what thirsty Cares Drink up the spirit and the dim regards Self-center. Lo they vanish! or acquire New names, new features—by supernal grace Enrob'd with Light, and naturaliz'd in Heaven. As when a Shepherd on a vernal morn Thro' some thick fog creeps tim'rous with slow foot, Darkling he fixes on th' immediate road His downward eye: all else of fairest kind Hid or deform'd. But lo, the bursting Sun!