— 9—

and„The ancient mariner“ so full of wild beauty and mystical charm, this peculiar spirit, no doubt awakened by the fantastic romanticism of the schools beyond the Channel, is discernible in all its exuberance. With this peculiar tendency and his admiration for Kant and Fichte, whom he may be said to have first introduced into England, Coleridge stood, for some time, solitary among his coun- trymen, most of whom have been in the habit, up to a very late time, of ridiculing the metaphysical speculations of our thinkers.

lt would lead us far beyond the limits within which we have to keep our present short survey if we should attempt to go through a great number of Coleridge's works. We just add here a few of his charasteristic pieces“*).

*) 2. Visits of the Gods. lmitated from Schiller.

Never, believe me That the roofs of Olympus may echo my lyre! Appear the Immortals Ha! we mount! on their pinions they waft up my soul! Never alone: Scarce had I welcomed the Sorrow-beguiler O give me the Nectar! Jacchus, but in came Boy Cupid the Smiler, O fill me the Bowl! Lo! Phoebus the Glorious descends from his Throne! Give him Nectar! They adrance, they float in the Olympians all! Pour out for the poet! With Divinities fill my Hebe, pour free! Terrestrial Hall! Quicken his eye with celestial dew, That Styx the detested no more he may view, How shall I yield you And like one of us Gods may conceit him to be! Due entertainment Thanks, Hebe! I quaff it. Jo Paean, 1 cry. Celestial Quire! The wine of the Immortals Me rather, bright guests! with your wings of upbuoyance Forbids me to die. Bear aloft, to your homes, to your banquets of joyance,

The death of Wallenstein. Act Il. So. I.

»T was I must rise, and with creative word

Wallenstein. Assemble forces in the desolate camps. Thon hast gain'd thy point Octavio! Once more am I I did it. Like a god of war my name Almost as friendless as at Regensburg. Went through the world. The drum was beat— and, lo! There I had nothing left me, but myself— The plow, the work-shop is forsaken, all But what one man can do, you have now experience Swarm to the old familiar long-lov'd banners; The leaves have you hew'd off, and here I stand And as the wood-choir rich in melody A leafless trunk. But in the sap within Assemble quick around the bird of wonder, Lives the creating power, and a new world When flrrst his throat swells with his magic' song, May sprout forth from it. Once already have I So did the warlike youth of Germany Proved myself worth an army to you— I alone! Crowd in around the image of my eagle. Before the Swedish strength your troops had melted, I feel myself the being that I was. Beside the Lech sank Tilly, your last hope: It is the soul that builds itself a body, Into Bavaria, like a winter torrent, And Friedland's camp will not remain unflll'd. Did that Gustavus pour, and at Vienna Lead then your thonsands out to me— true! In his own palace did the Emperor tremble. They are accustomed under me to conquer, Soldiers were scarce, fo still the multitude But not against me. If the head and limbs Follow the luck: all eyes were turned on me, Separate from each other,'t will be soon Their helper in distress: the Emperor's pride Made manifest, in which the soul abode etc. Bowed itself down before the man, he had injured.

2 2