
the dungeon - samuel taylor coleridge - gideon wagner lyrics
and this place our forefathers made for man!
this is the process of our love and wisdom
to each poor brother who offends against us *
most innocent, perhaps *and what if guilty?
is this the only cure? merciful god!
each pore and natural outlet shrivelled up
by ignorance and parching poverty
his energies roll back upon his heart
and stagnate and corrupt; till changed to poison
they break out on him, like a loathsome plague*spot;
then we call in our pampered mountebanks *
and this is their best cure! uncomforted
and friendless solitude, groaning and tears
and savage faces, at the clanking hour
seen through the steam and vapours of his dungeon
by the lamp’s dismal twilgiht! so he lies
circled with evil, till his very soul
unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deformed
by sights of ever more deformity!
with other ministrations thou, o nature!
healest thy wandering and distempered child:
thou pourest on him thy soft influences
thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets
thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters
till he relent, and can no more endure
to be a jarring and a dissonant thing
amid this general dance and minstrelsy;
but, bursting into tears, wins back his way
his angry spirit healed and harmonized
by the benignant touch of love and beauty
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