English poem
I Yet Remain...
--I yet remain To mourn the hours of youth (yet mourn in vain) That fled neglected: wisely thou hast trod The better path--and that high meed which God Assign'd to virtue, tow'ring from the dust, Shall wait thy rising, Spirit pure and just.
O God! how sweet it were to think, that all Who silent mourn around this gloomy ball Might hear the voice of joy;--but 'tis the will Of man's great Author, that through good and ill Calm he should hold his course, and so sustain His varied lot of pleasure, toil, and pain!
1793.
More by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
- "Fie, Mr. Coleridge!--and can this be you?
- Julia Was Blest With Beauty, Wit And Grace...
- "Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon
- The Early Year'S Fast-Flying Vapours Stray...
- 'Batelier, Dit Lisette'
- 'Be, rather than be called, a child of God,'
- 'How seldom, friend! a good great man inherits
- 'Lest after this life it should prove my sad story