Samuel Taylor Coleridge — Ode to Tranquillity

       &nbspTranquillity! thou better name        &nbspThan all the family of Fame!        &nbspThou ne'er wilt leave my riper age        &nbspTo low intrigue, or factious rage;        &nbspFor oh! dear child of thoughtful Truth,        &nbspTo thee I gave my early youth, And left the bark, and blest the steadfast shore, Ere yet the tempest rose and scared me with its roar.        &nbspWho late and lingering seeks thy shrine,        &nbspOn him but seldom, Power divine,        &nbspThy spirit rests! Satiety        &nbspAnd Sloth, poor counterfeits of thee,        &nbspMock the tired worldling. Idle Hope        &nbspAnd dire Remembrance interlope, To vex the feverish slumbers of the mind: The bubble floats before, the spectre stalks behind.        &nbspBut me thy gentle hand will lead        &nbspAt morning through the accustomed mead;        &nbspAnd in the sultry summer's heat        &nbspWill build me up a mossy seat;        &nbspAnd when the gust of Autumn crowds,        &nbspAnd breaks the busy moonlight clouds, Thou best the thought canst raise, the heart attune, Light as the busy clouds, calm as the gliding moon.        &nbspThe feeling heart, the searching soul,        &nbspTo thee I dedicate the whole!        &nbspAnd while within myself I trace        &nbspThe greatness of some future race,        &nbspAloof with hermit-eye I scan        &nbspThe present works of present man— A wild and dream-like trade of blood and guile, Too foolish for a tear, too wicked for a smile!