Cambridge University. Through
poverty he was compelled to enlist in the army, but his literary
attainments soon brought him into notice, and he was enabled to withdraw
from the distasteful life.

Coleridge's fame arises chiefly from his poems, of which the "Rime of the
Ancient Mariner," "Genevieve," and "Christabel" may be classed among the
best of English poetry. He also wrote a number of dramas, besides numerous
essays on religious and political topics. As a conversationalist Coleridge
had a remarkable reputation, and among his ardent admirers and friends may
be ranked Southey, Wordsworth, Lovell, Lamb, and De Quincey. He and his
friends Southey and Lovell married sisters, and talked at one time of
founding a community on the banks of the Susquehanna. Although possessing
such brilliant natural gifts, Coleridge fell far short of what he might
have attained, through a great lack of energy and application, increased
by an excessive use of opium.
###

Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star
In his steep course? So long he seems to pause
On thy bald, awful head, O sovran Blanc!
The Arve and Arveiron at thy base
Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful Form,
Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines,
How silently! Around thee and above,
Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black--
An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it,
As with a wedge! But when I look again,
It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine,
Thy habitation from eternity!
O dread and silent Mount! I gazed upon thee
Till thou, still present to the bodily sense,
Didst vanish from my thoughts: entranced in prayer,
I worshiped the Invisible alone.

Yet, like some sweet, beguiling melody,
So sweet we know not we are listening to it,
Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my thought--
Yea, with my life and life's own secret joy
Till the dilating soul, enrapt, transfused,
Into the mighty vision passing--there,
As in her natural form, swelled vast to Heaven!

Awake, my soul! not only passive praise
Thou owest! not alone these swelling tears,
Mute thanks and secret ecstasy! Awake,
Voice of sweet song! Awake, my heart, awake!
Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my hymn.

Thou first and chief, sole sovran of the vale!
Oh, struggling with the darkness all the night,
And visited all night by troops of stars,
Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink--
Companion of the morning star at dawn,
Thyself Earth's rosy star, and of the dawn
Coher