It was some spirit, Sheridan! that breath'd
O'er thy young mind such wildly-various power!
My soul hath marked thee in her shaping hour,
Thy temples with Hymettian flowrets wreath'd:
And sweet thy voice, as when o'er Laura's bier
Sad music trembled thro' Vauclusa's glade;
Sweet, as at dawn the love-lorn Serenade
That wafts soft dreams to Slumber's list'ning ear.
Now patriot Rage and Indignation high
Swell the full tones! And now thine eye-beams dance
Meanings of Scorn and Wit's quaint revelry!
Writhes inly from the bosom-probing glance
Th' Apostate by the brainless rout adores,
As erst that elder Fiend beneath great Michael's sword.
Sonnet Xi. To Sheridan
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Poem topics: breath, dance, music, power, sad, voice, soul, young, great, mind, spirit, high, soft, beneath, sword, dawn, thine, slumber, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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