Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu/212

 Unsunn'd and damp, whose few poor yellow leaves Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still, Fann'd by the water-fall! and there my friends Behold the dark green file of long lank Weeds, That all at once (a most fantastic sight!) Still nod and drip beneath the dripping edge Of the blue clay-stone.

Now, my Friends emerge Beneath the wide wide Heaven—and view again The many-steepled track magnificent Of hilly fields and meadows, and the sea, With some fair bark, perhaps, whose Sails light up The slip of smooth clear blue betwixt two Isles Of purple shadow! Yes! they wander on In gladness all; but thou, methinks, most glad, My gentle-hearted Charles! for thou hast pined And hunger'd after Nature, many a year, In the great City pent, winning thy way