by Coleridge · Cluster: Bible · Sin and the Fall · Fall from Innocence
Abstract
A Lament prefaced by a Rabbinical fable of Adam, Eve and Satan; the solitary date-tree symbolizes love denied and the ache of solitariness. Themes of loneliness, unrequited love and the Fall.
Connections
Topoi: Paradise Lost Archetypes: Great Mother Motifs: Serpent Snake Themes & Concepts: Unrequited Frustrated Love, Alienation, Melancholy, Sin and the Fall, Imagination Forms & Genres: Elegy Historical References: Bible Characters: Satan
Testo integrale / Full text
A LAMENT
I seem to have an indistinct recollection of having read either in one
of the ponderous tomes of George of Venice, or in some other compilation
from the uninspired Hebrew writers, an apologue or Rabbinical tradition
to the following purpose:
While our first parents stood before their offended Maker, and the
last 5
words of the sentence were yet sounding in Adam’s ear, the guileful
false
serpent, a counterfeit and a usurper from the beginning, presumptuously
took on himself the character of advocate or mediator, and pretending to
intercede for Adam, exclaimed: ‘Nay, Lord, in thy justice, not so! for
the man was the least in fault. Rather let the Woman return at once
to 10
the dust, and let Adam remain in this thy Paradise.’ And the word of
the Most High answered Satan: ‘The tender mercies of the wicked are
cruel.
Treacherous Fiend! if with guilt like thine, it had been possible for
thee
to have the heart of a Man, and to feel the yearning of a human soul for
its counterpart, the sentence, which thou now counsellest, should
have 15
been inflicted on thyself.’
The title of the following poem was suggested by a fact mentioned by
Linnaeus, of a date-tree in a nobleman’s garden which year after year
had put forth a full show of blossoms, but never produced fruit, till a
branch from another date-tree had been conveyed from a distance of 20
some hundred leagues. The first leaf of the MS. from which the poem
has been transcribed, and which contained the two or three introductory
stanzas, is wanting: and the author has in vain taxed his memory to
repair the loss. But a rude draught of the poem contains the substance
of the stanzas, and the reader is requested to receive it as the
substitute. 25
It is not impossible, that some congenial spirit, whose years do not
exceed those of the Author at the time the poem was written, may find
a pleasure in restoring the Lament to its original integrity by a
reduction
of the thoughts to the requisite metre. S. T. C.
1
Beneath the blaze of a tropical sun the mountain peaks are 30
the Thrones of Frost, through the absence of objects to reflect
the rays. ‘What no one with us shares, seems scarce our own.’
The presence of a ONE,
The best belov’d, who loveth me the best,
is for the heart, what the supporting air from within is for the 35
hollow globe with its suspended car. Deprive it of this, and all
without, that would have buoyed it aloft even to the seat of the
gods,
becomes a burthen and crushes it into flatness.
2
The finer the sense for the beautiful and the lovely, and the
fairer and lovelier the object presented to the sense; the more 40
exquisite the individual’s capacity of joy, and the more ample
his means and opportunities of enjoyment, the more heavily
will he feel the ache of solitariness, the more unsubstantial
becomes the feast spread around him. What matters it,
whether in fact the viands and the ministering graces are 45
shadowy or real, to him who has not hand to grasp nor arms
to embrace them?
3
Imagination; honourable aims;
Free commune with the choir that cannot die;
Science and song; delight in little things, 50
The buoyant child surviving in the man;
Fields, forests, ancient mountains, ocean, sky,
With all their voices — O dare I accuse
My earthly lot as guilty of my spleen,
Or call my destiny niggard! O no! no! 55
It is her largeness, and her overflow,
Which being incomplete, disquieteth me so!
4
For never touch of gladness stirs my heart,
But tim’rously beginning to rejoice
Like a blind Arab, that from sleep doth start 60
In lonesome tent, I listen for thy voice.
Belovéd! ‘tis not thine; thou art not there!
Then melts the bubble into idle air,
And wishing without hope I restlessly despair.
5
The mother with anticipated glee 65
Smiles o’er the child, that, standing by her chair
And flatt’ning its round cheek upon her knee,
Looks up, and doth its rosy lips prepare
To mock the coming sounds. At that sweet sight
She hears her own voice with a new delight; 70
And if the babe perchance should lisp the notes aright,
6
Then is she tenfold gladder than before!
But should disease or chance the darling take,
What then avail those songs, which sweet of yore
Were only sweet for their sweet echo’s sake? 75
Dear maid! no prattler at a mother’s knee
Was e’er so dearly prized as I prize thee:
Why was I made for Love and Love denied to me?
1805.