# Poems on Various Subjects (Coleridge)/Epistle 1, written at Shurton Bars

Lines Written at Shurton Bars was composed by Samuel Taylor Coleridge in 1795. The poem incorporates a reflection on Coleridge's engagement and his understanding of marriage. It also compares nature to an ideal understanding of reality and discusses isolation from others. Warning: template has been deprecated.
Poetical Epistles.
Good verse most good, and bad verse then seems better Received from absent friend by way of Letter. For what so sweet can labor'd lays impart As one rude rhyme warm from a friendly heart?
Anon.
EPISTLE I.
WRITTEN AT
SHURTON BARS, NEAR BRIDGEWATER,
SEPTEMBER. 1795,
IN ANSWER TO
A LETTER FROM BRISTOL.
NOR travels my meand'ring eye The starry wilderness on high; Nor now with curious sight I mark the glow-worm, as I pass, Move with "green radiance" thro' the grass. An Emerald of Light.
O ever-present to my view! My wafted spirit is with you, And soothes your boding fears: I see you all opprest with gloom Sit lonely in that cheerless room—— Ah me! You are in tears!
Beloved Woman! did you fly Chill'd Friendship's dark disliking eye, Or Mirth's untimely din? With cruel weight these trifles press A temper sore with Tenderness, When akes the Void within.
But why with sable wand unblest Should Fancy rouse within my breast Dim-visag'd shapes of Dread?
Untenanting it's beauteous clay My Sara's soul has wing'd it's way, And hovers round my head!
I felt it prompt the tender Dream, When slowly sunk the day's last gleam; You rous'd each gentler sense As sighing o'er the Blossom's bloom Meek Evening wakes it's soft perfume With viewless influence.
And hark, my Love! The sea-breeze moans Thro' yon rest house! O'er rolling stones In bold ambitious sweep
The onward-surging tides supply The silence of the cloudless sky With mimic thunders deep.
Dark-red'ning from the channel'd Isle (Where stands one solitary pile Unslated by the blast) The Watchfire, like a sullen star Twinkles to many a dozing Tar Rude cradled on the mast.
Ev'n there—beneath that light-house tower— In the tumultuous evil hour Ere Peace with Sara came,
Time was, I should have thought it sweet To count the echoings of my feet, And watch the storm-vex'd flame.
And there in black soul-jaundic'd fit A sad gloom-pamper'd Man to sit, And listen to the roar: When mountain Surges bellowing deep With an uncouth monster leap Plung'd foaming on the shore.
Then by the Lightning's blaze to mark Some toiling tempest-shatter'd bark: Her vain distress-guns hear:
And when a second sheet of light Flash'd o'er the blackness of the night— To see no Vessel there!
But Fancy now more gaily sings; Or if awhile she droop her wings, As sky-larks mid the corn, On summer fields she grounds her breast: Th' oblivious Poppy o'er her nest Nods, till returning morn.
O mark those smiling tears, that swell The open'd Rose! From heaven they fell, And with the sun-beam blend. Blest visitations from above, Such arc the tender woes of Love Fost'ring the heart, they bend!
When stormy Midnight howling round Beats on our roof with clatt'ring sound, To me your arms you'll stretch: Great God! you'll say—To us so kind, O shelter from this loud bleak wind The houseless, friendless wretch!
The tears that tremble down your cheek, Shall bathe my kisses chaste and meek In Pity's dew divine; And from your heart the sighs that steal Shall make your rising bosom feel The answ'ring swell of mine!
How oft, my Love! with shapings sweet I paint the moment, we shall meet! With eager speed I dart——
I seize you in the vacant air, And fancy, with a Husband's care I press you to my heart!
'Tis said, on Summer's evening hour Flashes the golden-colour'd flower A fair electric flame. And so shall flash my love-charg'd eye When all the heart's big ecstasy Shoots rapid thro' the frame!
* ↑ Note 11
* ↑ The Holmes, in the Bristol Channel.
* ↑ Note 13.