Samuel Taylor Coleridge

(1772-1834 / Devon / England)

A Soliloquy Of The Full Moon, She Being In A Mad Passion


Now as Heaven is my Lot, they're the Pests of the Nation!
Wherever they can come
With clankum and blankum
'Tis all Botheration, & Hell & Damnation,
With fun, jeering
Conjuring
Sky-staring,
Loungerin g,
And still to the tune of Transmogrification--
Those muttering
Spluttering
Ventriloquogusty
P oets
With no Hats
Or Hats that are rusty.
They're my Torment and Curse
And harass me worse
And bait me and bay me, far sorer I vow
Than the Screech of the Owl
Or the witch-wolf's long howl,
Or sheep-killing Butcher-dog's inward Bow wow
For me they all spite--an unfortunate Wight.
And the very first moment that I came to Light
A Rascal call'd Voss the more to his scandal,
Turn'd me into a sickle with never a handle.
A Night or two after a worse Rogue there came,
The head of the Gang, one Wordsworth by name--
`Ho! What's in the wind?' 'Tis the voice of a Wizzard!
I saw him look at me most terribly blue !
He was hunting for witch-rhymes from great A to Izzard,
And soon as he'd found them made no more ado
But chang'd me at once to a little Canoe.
From this strange Enchantment uncharm'd by degrees
I began to take courage & hop'd for some Ease,
When one Coleridge, a Raff of the self-same Banditti
Past by--& intending no doubt to be witty,
Because I'd th' ill-fortune his taste to displease,
He turn'd up his nose,
And in pitiful Prose
Made me into the half of a small Cheshire Cheese.
Well, a night or two past--it was wind, rain & hail--
And I ventur'd abroad in a thick Cloak & veil--
But the very first Evening he saw me again
The last mentioned Ruffian popp'd out of his Den--
I was resting a moment on the bare edge of Naddle
I fancy the sight of me turn'd his Brains addle--
For what was I now?
A complete Barley-mow
And when I climb'd higher he made a long leg,
And chang'd me at once to an Ostrich's Egg--
But now Heaven be praised in contempt of the Loon,
I am I myself I, the jolly full Moon.
Yet my heart is still fluttering--
For I heard the Rogue muttering--
He was hulking and skulking at the skirt of a Wood
When lightly & brightly on tip-toe I stood
On the long level Line of a motionless Cloud
And ho! what a Skittle-ground! quoth he aloud
And wish'd from his heart nine Nine-pins to see
In brightness & size just proportion'd to me.
So I fear'd from my soul,
That he'd make me a Bowl,
But in spite of his spite
This was more than his might
And still Heaven be prais'd! in contempt of the Loon
I am I myself I, the jolly full Moon.

Submitted: Monday, May 14, 2001

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read poems about / on: howl, hunting, heaven, courage, moon, dog, fun, passion, wind, rain, fear, night, sky, light

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (A Soliloquy Of The Full Moon, She Being In A Mad Passion by Samuel Taylor Coleridge )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

New Poems

  1. Haiku-2 (TREES), Saheb Mohapatra
  2. LIMERICK-4 (Cost Problem), Saheb Mohapatra
  3. लिमारिक #16, Ronjoy Brahma
  4. लिमारिक #15, Ronjoy Brahma
  5. 3 WORDS..., DRASHI SHAH
  6. Hmm, Pradip Chattopadhyay
  7. Following Jane, David Lewis Paget
  8. Asleep Under Stars, Phil Soar
  9. Epidemic, Aftab Alam
  10. The Desire, Aftab Alam

Poem of the Day

poet Geoffrey Chaucer

Compleyne ne koude, ne might myn herte never,
My peynes halve, ne what torment I have,
Though that I sholde in your presence ben ever,
Myn hertes lady, as wisly he me save
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

Trending Poems

  1. Unity is Strength, S.D. TIWARI
  2. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  3. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  4. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  5. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
  6. All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
  7. If, Rudyard Kipling
  8. Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
  9. After Making Love We Hear Footsteps, Galway Kinnell
  10. Blackberry Eating, Galway Kinnell

Trending Poets

[Hata Bildir]