To An Unfortunate Woman At The Theatre

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Title:     To An Unfortunate Woman At The Theatre
Author: Samuel Taylor Coleridge [More Titles by Coleridge]

Maiden, that with sullen brow
Sitt'st behind those virgins gay,
Like a scorch'd and mildew'd bough,
Leafless 'mid the blooms of May!

Him who lur'd thee and forsook,
Oft I watch'd with angry gaze,
Fearful saw his pleading look,
Anxious heard his fervid phrase.

Soft the glances of the Youth,
Soft his speech, and soft his sigh;
But no sound like simple Truth,
But no _true_ love in his eye.

Loathing thy polluted lot,
Hie thee, Maiden, hie thee hence!
Seek thy weeping Mother's cot,
With a wiser innocence.

Thou hast known deceit and folly,
Thou hast _felt_ that Vice is woe:
With a musing melancholy
Inly arm'd, go, Maiden! go.

Mother sage of Self-dominion,
Firm thy steps, O Melancholy!
The strongest plume in Wisdom's pinion
Is the memory of past folly.

Mute the sky-lark and forlorn,
While she moults the firstling plumes,
That had skimm'd the tender corn,
Or the beanfield's odorous blooms.

Soon with renovated wing
Shall she dare a loftier flight,
Upward to the Day-Star spring,
And embathe in heavenly light.

1797.

[The end]
Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem: To An Unfortunate Woman At The Theatre

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