Of Nature's Laws, and Nature's mighty King
Is Bliss supreme. Let Gods with Mortals join!
The Subject may transport a Breast divine.

-Eighteenth century translation, anonymous.

ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH

ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH. Born in Liverpool, January 1, 1819; died in Florence, November 13, 1861. For a time Fellow at Oriel, Oxford. A gifted poet of rare spiritual sensitiveness, moral sincerity, delicate humor, and absolute intellectual honesty. See "Poems and Memoir" (by F. T. Palgrave, 1862); Poems and Prose Remains" (1869).

SAY NOT THE STRUGGLE NAUGHT AVAILETH

SAY not, the struggle naught availeth,
The labor and the wounds are vain,

The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
And as things have been they remain.

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke concealed,
Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,
And, but for you, possess the field.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only,

When daylight comes, comes in the light,
In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly,
But westward, look, the land is bright.

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE

SAMUEL TAYLOR Coleridge. An English poet, philosopher, and liter ary critic of high rank, and an intimate friend and associate of Wordsworth and Southey. Born at Ottery St. Mary, Devonshire, October 21, 1772; died July 25, 1834. Author of "The Ancient Mariner," "Wallenstein,' "Christabel," "Poems on Various Subjects," "Aids to Reflection," "Table Talk." The best edition of Coleridge's works is that edited by Professor Shedd in seven volumes.

THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER

PART I

It is an ancient Mariner,

And he stoppeth one of three:

"By thy long gray beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

"The Bridegroom's doors are open'd wide,
And I am next of kin;

The guests are met, the feast is set:
Mayst hear the merry din."

He holds him with his skinny hand: "There was a ship," quoth he.

"Hold off! unhand me, graybeard loon!" Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three-years' child;
The Mariner hath his will.

An ancient Mariner meeteth three gallants bidden to a wedding-feast, and detaineth one.

The wedding-guest is spellbound by the eye of the old seafaring man, and constrained to hear his tale.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone,
He cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed mariner.

"The ship was cheer'd, the harbor clear'd,

Merrily did we drop

Below the kirk, below the hill,

Below the lighthouse top.

"The Sun came up upon the left,

Out of the sea came he!

And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day,

Till over the mast at noon
The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;

Nodding their heads before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,
Yet he cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

"And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he

Was tyrannous and strong:

He struck with his o'ertaking wings,

And chased us south along.

"With sloping masts and dripping prow,

As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe,
And forward bends his head,

The Mariner tells how the ship sailed southward with a good wind and fair weather, till it reached the line.

The wedding-guest heareth the bridal music; but the Mariner continueth his tale.

The ship drawn by a storm toward the south pole.

The ship drove fast, loud roar'd the blast,
And southward aye we fled.

"And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold;

And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.

"And through the drifts the snowy cliffs.
Did send a dismal sheen:

Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken
The ice was all between.

"The ice was here, the ice was there,

The ice was all around:

It crack'd and growl'd, and roar'd and howl'd,
Like noises in a swound!

"At length did cross an Albatross:
Thorough the fog it came;

As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hail'd it in God's name.

"It ate the food it ne'er had eat,
And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The helmsman steer'd us through!

"And a good south-wind sprung up behind;
The Albatross did follow,

And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariner's hollo!

"In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,

It perch'd for vespers nine;

Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmer'd the white moon-shine."

"God save thee, ancient Mariner !

From the fiends, that plague thee thus!

Why look'st thou so?"-"With my cross-bow
I shot the ALBATROSS."

The land of ice, and of fearful sounds, where no living thing was to be seen.

Till a great sea-bird, called the Albatross, came through the

snow fog, and was received with great joy and hospitality.

And lo! the Albatross proveth a bird of good omen, and followeth the ship as it returned northward through fog and floating ice.

The ancient Mariner inhospitably killeth the pious bird of good omen.

PART II

"The Sun now rose upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,

Still hid in mist, and on the left
Went down into the sea.

"And the good south-wind still blew behind,

But no sweet bird did follow,

Nor any day for food or play

Came to the mariner's hollo!

"And I had done an hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:

For all averr'd, I had kill'd the bird
That made the breeze to blow.

'Ah wretch!' said they, 'the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow!'

"Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious Sun uprist:

Then all averr'd, I had kill'd the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay
That bring the fog and mist.

"The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow follow'd free;

We were the first that ever burst

Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be;

And we did speak only to break

His shipmates cry out against the ancient Mariner, for killing the bird of good luck.

But when the fog cleared off, they justify the same, and thus make themselves accomplices in the crime.

The fair breeze continues; the ship enters the Pacific Ocean and sails northward, even till it reaches the Line.

The ship hath been suddenly becalmed.

The silence of the sea!

"All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody Sun, at noon,