274 OPINIONS ON THE POETS 



Lord Strangford would now have advanced but the voice 

 of the spirit forbade him, — as he did not come for the water on his 

 own account. 



Coleridge, Lamb, and Lloyd walked forth arm-in-arm, 

 and moved gently to tlie stream : — they conversed, as they passed, 

 on the beauties of the country, on its peaceful associations, and 

 on the purity of domestic affections. Their conversation then 

 turned to poetry, — and from the simplicity of the remarks of 

 Lloyd and Lamb, I found that their very hearts were wedded to 

 innocence and peace ; Coleridge talked in a higher strain, but he 

 at last confused himself with the abstruseness of his own obser- 

 vations : he hinted at a metaphysical Poem he was about to 

 write in 100 books, Lamb remarked to him that he should prefer 

 one of his affectionate and feeling sonnets to all liis wanderings 

 of mind . Each of these Poets held in his hand a simple porrenger 

 — declaring, that it brought the finest recollections of frugal fare 

 and country quiet: Lamb and Lloyd dipped in a bright but 

 rather shallow part of the stream, — Coleridge went to the depths 

 where he might have caught the purest water, had he not unfor- 

 tunately clouded it with the sand which he himself disturbed at 

 bottom. Lamb and Lloyd stated that they should take their 

 j)orrengers home and share their contents with the amiable and 

 simple hearts dwelling there; Coleridge was not positive as to' 

 the use to which he should apply his portion of the stream, till 

 he had ascertained what were the physical reasons for the sand's 

 propensity to mount and curl itself in water : he thought, how- 

 ever, of clubbing it witli the portions of his companions and 

 making a lake of the whole. These three Poets left the stream 

 in the same manner they approached it. 



Last came a calm and majestic figure moving serenely towards 

 the stream : the Celandines and small flowers sprang up to catch 

 the pressure of his feet, the sun-light fell with a finer glow around, 

 spirits rustled most mirthfully and musically in the air, and a 

 wing every now and then twinkled into sight, (like the autumn 

 leaf that trembles and flashes up to the sun) and its feathers of 

 wavy gold were almost too sparkling to be looked upon; the 

 waters of Castaly ran brighter as he approached, and seemed to 

 play and dimple with pleasure at his presence. It was Words- 

 worth ! In his hand he held a vase of pure chrystal, and, when 

 he had reached the brink of the stream, the wave proudly swelled 

 itself into his cup : at this moment the sunny air above his brow, 

 became embodied, and tlie glowing and lightsome Spirit shone 



