Explore "Lines to W. Linley, Esq" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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!