Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu/207

 Or when as now, on some delicious eve, We in our sweet sequester'd Orchard-Plot Sit on the Tree crook'd earth-ward; whose old boughs, That hang above us in an arborous roof, Stirr'd by the faint gale of departing May, Send their loose blossoms slanting o'er our heads!


 * Nor dost not thou sometimes recall those hours,

When with the joy of hope thou gav'st thine ear To my wild firstling-lays. Since then my song Hath sounded deeper notes, such as beseem Or that sad wisdom, folly leaves behind; Or such as, tun'd to these tumultuous times, Cope with the tempest's swell!

These various strains, Which I have fram'd in many a various mood, Accept, my Brother! and (for some perchance Will strike discordant on thy milder mind) If aught of Error or intemperate Truth Should meet thine ear, think thou that riper age Will calm it down, and let they Love forgive it!