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!