Melancholy

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Title:     Melancholy
Author: Samuel Taylor Coleridge [More Titles by Coleridge]

A FRAGMENT

Stretch'd on a moulder'd Abbey's broadest wall,
Where ruining ivies propp'd the ruins steep--
Her folded arms wrapping her tatter'd pall,
Had Melancholy mus'd herself to sleep.
The fern was press'd beneath her hair,
The dark green Adder's Tongue was there;
And still as pass'd the flagging sea-gale weak,
The long lank leaf bow'd fluttering o'er her cheek.

That pallid cheek was flush'd: her eager look
Beam'd eloquent in slumber! Inly wrought,
Imperfect sounds her moving lips forsook,
And her bent forehead work'd with troubled thought.
Strange was the dream----

[The end]
Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem: Melancholy

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