Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Devon / England
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Devon / England
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Limbo

Rating: 2.8
The sole true Something--This ! In Limbo Den
It frightens Ghosts as Ghosts here frighten men--
For skimming in the wake it mock'd the care
Of the old Boat-God for his Farthing Fare ;
Tho' Irus' Ghost itself he ne'er frown'd blacker on,
The skin and skin-pent Druggist crost the Acheron,
Styx, and with Puriphlegethon Cocytus,--
(The very names, methinks, might thither fright us--)
Unchang'd it cross'd--& shall some fated Hour
Be pulveris'd by Demogorgon's power
And given as poison to annilate Souls--
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COMMENTS
Susan Williams 08 March 2016
This is strange, weirdly captivating, and excessively haunted. Set at night, outside, it still dissolves into some inner dream world living in his head. Was his drug addiction responsible? Was he in the midst of a drug-induced hallucination? Well, I don't see how Coleridge the lyrical smackhead could write such well-done poetry with their rhythm and meter and depth and technical genius. I have to give credit to Coleridge the poetic genius not the drugs. He and the other Romantics were interested in exploring extreme states of mind and feeling, the dark groundwork of our nature as Coleridge called them.
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