Samuel Taylor Coleridge — An Invocation. From Remorse

Hear, sweet Spirit, hear the spell, Lest a blacker charm compel! So shall the midnight breezes swell With thy deep long-lingering knell. And at evening evermore, In a chapel on the shore, Shall the chaunter, sad and saintly, Yellow tapers burning faintly, Doleful masses chaunt for thee,        &nbsp       &nbspMiserere Domine! Hush! the cadence dies away        &nbspOn the quiet moonlight sea: The boatmen rest their oars and say,        &nbsp       &nbspMiserere Domine!