Free through the starry heavens of truth divine.
ON READING COLERIDGE’S EPITAPH,
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
“Stop, Christian passer-by! stop, child of God!
And read with gentle breast:—Beneath this sod
A Poet lies, or that which once seem’d he:
Oh! lift one thought in prayer for S. T. C.!
That he, who once in vain, with toil of breath,
Found death in life, may here find life in death:
Mercy, for praise—to be forgiven, for fame—