Classic Poem

V.—ON READING COLERIDGE'S EPITAPH

Spirit ! so oft in radiant freedom soaring,
High through seraphic mysteries unconfined,
And oft, a diver through the deep of mind,
Its caverns, far below its waves, exploring;
And oft such strains of breezy music pouring,
As, with the floating sweetness of their sighs,
Could still all fevers of the heart, restoring
A while that freshness left in Paradise;
Say, of those glorious wanderings what the goal?
What the rich fruitage to man's kindred soul
From wealth of thine bequeathed? O strong and high,
And sceptred intellect! thy goal confess'd
Was the Redeemer's Cross—thy last bequest
One lesson breathing thence profound humility!