knew That to such countless worlds that mad'st us blind! Why do we then shun death with anxious strife If Light can thus deceive, wherefore not Life? HARTLEY COLERIDGE (1796-1849) WHITHER IS GONE THE (From Miscellaneous Sonnets, number VIII, 1833) Whither is gone the wisdom and the power That ancient sages scattered with the notes Of thought-suggesting lyres? The music floats In the void air; e'en at this breathing hour, In every cell and every blooming bower 5 The sweetness of old lays is hovering still: But the strong soul, the self-constraining will, The rugged root which bare the winsome flower, Is weak and withered. Were we like the fays That sweetly nestle in the foxglove bells, 10 Or lurk and murmur in the rose-lipped shells Thee from report divine, and heard thy Which Neptune to the earth for quit-rent |