LETTER25

letter25

charleslambtos.t.coleridge

april15th,1797.

avisionofrepentance

isawafamousfountaininmydream,

whereshadypathwaystoavalleyled;

aweepingwillowlayuponthatstream,

andallaroundthefountainbrinkwerespread

widebranchingtrees,withdarkgreenleafrichclad,

formingadoubtfultwilightdesolateandsad.

theplacewassuch,thatwhosoenter'din

disrobedwasofeveryearthlythought,

andstraightbecameasonethatknewnotsin,

ortotheworld'sfirstinnocencewasbrought;

enseem'ditnow,hestoodonholyground,

insweetandtendermelancholywraptaround.

amoststrangecalmstoleo'ermysoothedsprite;

longtimeistood,andlongerhadistaid,

whenlo!isaw,sawbythesweetmoonlight,

whichcameinsilenceo'erthatsilentshade,

wherenearthefountainsomethinglikedespair

madeofthatweepingwillowgarlandsforherhair.

andekewithpainfulfingerssheinwove

manyanuncouthstemofsavagethorn—

"thewillowgarland,thatwasforherlove,

andtheseherbleedingtempleswouldadorn."

withsighsherheartnighburst—salttearsfastfell,

asmournfullyshebendedo'erthatsacredwell.

towhomwheniaddrestmyselftospeak,

shelifteduphereyes,andnothingsaid;

thedelicateredcamemantlingo'erhercheek,

andgatheringupherlooseattire,shefled

tothedarkcovertofthatwoodyshade

andinhergoingsseem'datimidgentlemaid.

revolvinginmymindwhatthisshouldmean,

andwhythatlovelyladyplainedso;

perplex'dinthoughtatthatmysteriousscene,

anddoubtingif'twerebesttostayorgo,

icastmineeyesinwistfulgazearound,

whenfromtheshadescameslowasmallandplaintivesound

"psycheami,wholovetodwell

inthesebrownshades,thiswoodydell,

whereneverbusymortalcame,

tillnow,topryuponmyshame.

"atthyfeetwhatthoudostsee

thewatersofrepentancebe,

which,nightandday,imustaugment

withtears,likeatruepenitent,

ifhaplysomydayofgrace

benotyetpast;andthisloneplace,