point under inquiry, to this singularly pathetic utterance has been
almost universally recognised. Coleridge has himself cited its most
significant passage in the _Biographia Literaria_ as supplying the
best description of his mental state at the time when it was written.
De Quincey quotes it with appropriate comments in his _Coleridge and
Opium-Eating_. Its testimony is reverently invoked by the poet's son
in the introductory essay prefixed by him to his edition of his
father's works. The earlier stanzas are, however, so necessary to the
comprehension of Coleridge's mood at this time that a somewhat long
extract must be made. In the opening stanza he expresses a longing that
the storm which certain atmospheric signs of a delusively calm evening
appear to promise might break forth, so that

"Those sounds which oft have raised me, whilst they awed,
And sent my soul abroad,
Might now perhaps their wonted impulse give,
Might startle this dull pain, and make it move and live."

And thus, with ever-deepening sadness, the poem proceeds:

"A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear,
A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief,
Which finds no natural outlet, no relief,
In word, or sigh, or tear--
O Lady! in this wan and heartless mood,
To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd,
All this long eve, so balmy and serene,
Have I been gazing on the western sky,
And its peculiar tint of yellow green:
And still I gaze--and with how blank an eye!