IV
108 lines✦
ut rein your stallion in, too daring Nine!Should Empires bloat the scientific line?Or with dishevell'd hair all madly do ye runFor transport that your task is done? 65For done it is--the cause is tried!And Proposition, gentle Maid,Who soothly ask'd stern Demonstration's aid,Has proved her right, and A. B. C.Of Angles three 70Is shown to be of equal side;And now our weary steed to rest in fine,'Tis rais'd upon A. B. the straight, the given line. 1791. FOOTNOTES: [21:2] First published in 1834 without a title, but tabulated as'Mathematical Problem' in 'Contents' 1 [p. xi]. [22:1] _Poetice_ for Angle. _Letter, 1791._ [22:2] Delendus 'fere'. _Letter, 1791._ [23:1] Empress of Russia. LINENOTES: Title] Prospectus and Specimen of a Translation of Euclid in a series ofPindaric Odes, communicated in a letter of the author to his BrotherRev. G. Coleridge [March 17, 1791]. MS. O (c). [5] A E N G E E E L E. Letter, 1791. [36] A C to C B and C B to C A. Letter, 1791, MS. O (c). [48] affiance] alliance Letter, 1791. [55] Autocratrix] Autocratorix MS. O (c). HONOUR[24:1] O, curas hominum! O, quantum est in rebus inane! The fervid Sun had more than halv'd the day,When gloomy on his couch Philedon lay;His feeble frame consumptive as his purse,His aching head did wine and women curse;His fortune ruin'd and his wealth decay'd, 5Clamorous his duns, his gaming debts unpaid,The youth indignant seiz'd his tailor's bill,And on its back thus wrote with moral quill:'Various as colours in the rainbow shown,Or similar in emptiness alone, 10How false, how vain are Man's pursuits below!Wealth, Honour, Pleasure--what can ye bestow?Yet see, how high and low, and young and oldPursue the all-delusive power of Gold.Fond man! should all Peru thy empire own, 15For thee tho' all Golconda's jewels shone,What greater bliss could all this wealth supply?What, but to eat and drink and sleep and die?Go, tempt the stormy sea, the burning soil--Go, waste the night in thought, the day in toil, 20Dark frowns the rock, and fierce the tempests rave--Thy ingots go the unconscious deep to pave!Or thunder at thy door the midnight train,Or Death shall knock that never knocks in vain.Next Honour's sons come bustling on amain; 25I laugh with pity at the idle train.Infirm of soul! who think'st to lift thy nameUpon the waxen wings of human fame,--Who for a sound, articulated breath--Gazest undaunted in the face of death! 30What art thou but a Meteor's glaring light--Blazing a moment and then sunk in night?Caprice which rais'd thee high shall hurl thee low,Or Envy blast the laurels on thy brow.To such poor joys could ancient Honour lead 35When empty fame was toiling Merit's meed;To Modern Honour other lays belong;Profuse of joy and Lord of right and wrong,Honour can game, drink, riot in the stew,Cut a friend's throat;--what cannot Honour do? 40Ah me!--the storm within can Honour stillFor Julio's death, whom Honour made me kill?Or will this lordly Honour tell the wayTo pay those debts, which Honour makes me pay?Or if with pistol and terrific threats 45I make some traveller pay my Honour's debts,A medicine for this wound can Honour give?Ah, no! my Honour dies to make my Honour live.But see! young Pleasure, and her train advance,And joy and laughter wake the inebriate dance; 50Around my neck she throws her fair white arms,I meet her loves, and madden at her charms.For the gay grape can joys celestial move,And what so sweet below as Woman's love?With such high transport every moment flies, 55I curse Experience that he makes me wise;For at his frown the dear deliriums flew,And the changed scene now wears a gloomy hue.A hideous hag th' Enchantress Pleasure seems,And all her joys appear but feverous dreams. 60The vain resolve still broken and still made,Disease and loathing and remorse invade;The charm is vanish'd and the bubble's broke,--A slave to pleasure is a slave to smoke!'Such lays repentant did the Muse supply; 65When as the Sun was hastening down the sky,In glittering state twice fifty guineas come,--His Mother's plate antique had rais'd the sum.Forth leap'd Philedon of new life possest:-- 69'Twas Brookes's all till two,--'twas Hackett's all the rest! 1791. FOOTNOTES: [24:1] First published in 1834: included in _P. and D. W._, 1877-80, andin 1893. LINENOTES: _Honour_] No title, but motto as above MS. O.: Philedon, Eds. 1877,1893. [34] Or] And MS. O. [43-4]
✦