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Samuel Taylor Coleridge - To A Lady, With Falconer`s `Shipwreck`
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Oh! not by Cam or Isis, famous streams
  In arched groves, the youthful poet`s choice;
Nor while half-listening, mid delicious dreams,
  To harp and song from lady`s hand and voice;

Nor yet while gazing in sublimer mood
  On cliff, or cataract, in Alpine dell;
Nor in dim cave with bladdery sea-weed strewed,
  Framing wild fancies to the ocean`s swell;

Our sea-bard sang this song! which still he sings,
  And sings for thee, sweet friend!  Hark, Pity, hark
Now mounts, now totters on the tempest`s wings,
  Now groans, and shivers, the replunging bark!

`Cling to the shrouds!`  In vain!  The breakers roar--
  Death shrieks!  With two alone of all his clan
Forlorn the poet paced the Grecian shore,
  No classic roamer, but a ship-wrecked man!

Say then, what muse inspired these genial strains
  And lit his spirit to so bright a flame?
The elevating thought of suffered pains,
  Which gentle hearts shall mourn; but chief, the name 

Of gratitude! remembrance of friend,
  Or absent or no more! shades of the Past, 
Which Loves make substance!  Hence to thee I send,
  O dear as long as life and memory last!

I send with deep regards of heart and head,
  Sweet maid, for friendship formed!  this work to thee 
And thou, the while thou canst not choose but shed 
  A tear for Falconer, wilt remember me.
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