"Methinks, its [a fluttering "film"] motion in this hush of nature / Gives it dim sympathies with me who live, / Making it a companionable form, / Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit / By its own moods interprets, every where / Echo or mirror seeking of itself, / And makes a toy of Thought."
— Coleridge, Samuel Taylor (1772-1834)
Work Title
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed for J. Johnson
Date
1798
Metaphor
"Methinks, its [a fluttering "film"] motion in this hush of nature / Gives it dim sympathies with me who live, / Making it a companionable form, / Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit / By its own moods interprets, every where / Echo or mirror seeking of itself, / And makes a toy of Thought."
Metaphor in Context
The Frost performs its secret ministry,
Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry
Came loud--and hark, again! loud as before.
The inmates of my cottage, all at rest,
Have left me to that solitude, which suits
Abstruser musings: save that at my side
My cradled infant slumbers peacefully.
'Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs
And vexes meditation with its strange
And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and wood,
This populous village! Sea, and hill, and wood,
With all the numberless goings-on of life,
Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame
Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not;
Only that film, which fluttered on the grate,
Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing.
Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature
Gives it dim sympathies with me who live,
Making it a companionable form,
Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit
By its own moods interprets, every where
Echo or mirror seeking of itself,
And makes a toy of Thought.
(ll. 1-23)
Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry
Came loud--and hark, again! loud as before.
The inmates of my cottage, all at rest,
Have left me to that solitude, which suits
Abstruser musings: save that at my side
My cradled infant slumbers peacefully.
'Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs
And vexes meditation with its strange
And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and wood,
This populous village! Sea, and hill, and wood,
With all the numberless goings-on of life,
Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame
Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not;
Only that film, which fluttered on the grate,
Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing.
Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature
Gives it dim sympathies with me who live,
Making it a companionable form,
Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit
By its own moods interprets, every where
Echo or mirror seeking of itself,
And makes a toy of Thought.
(ll. 1-23)
Provenance
Reading; found again searching in HDIS (Poetry).
Citation
Only 1 entry in ESTC (1798).
Text from Fears in Solitude, Written in 1798 during the Alarms of an Invasion; to which are Added France: An Ode; and Frost at Midnight (London: Printed for J. Johnson, 1798). <Link to ESTC><Link to ECCO>
Text from Fears in Solitude, Written in 1798 during the Alarms of an Invasion; to which are Added France: An Ode; and Frost at Midnight (London: Printed for J. Johnson, 1798). <Link to ESTC><Link to ECCO>
Date of Entry
10/15/2003
