Lines To W. Linley, Esq. - By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

WHILE HE SANG A SONG TO PURCELL'S MUSIC


  While my young cheek retains its healthful hues,
    And I have many friends who hold me dear,
    Linley! methinks, I would not often hear
  Such melodies as thine, lest I should lose
  All memory of the wrongs and sore distress
    For which my miserable brethren weep!
    But should uncomforted misfortunes steep
  My daily bread in tears and bitterness;
  And if at death's dread moment I should lie
    With no beloved face at my bed-side,
  To fix the last glance of my closing eye,
    Methinks such strains, breathed by my angel-guide,
  Would make me pass the cup of anguish by,
    Mix with the blest, nor know that I had died!

1797.