Samuel Taylor Coleridge Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1 By permission of the British Library SONNET ON SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE - D.G. ROSSETTI - 1881 Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1880 fair copy [i-iii], [1-2] This bound volume was put together by T. J. Wise to house DGR's fair copy manuscript. Wise added the book's elaborate title. British Museum Library, Ashley Collection Ashley A2887 ruled white laid paper 22.3 x 17.6 cm leaf torn from one of DGR's typical notebooks Commentary
Introduction

T. J. Wise bound this booklet for DGR's fair copy of his Coleridge sonnet, followed by a printed copy and artistic title page with a portrait of Coleridge as a frontispiece. The booklet cover is red levant morrocco bound by Riviere with an embossed or stamped title. Paper is Whatman's hand-made, uncut in the original blue-grey paper boards, backed with white, with white paper back-label.

Textual History: Composition

Textual History: Revision

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Autobiographical

Bibliographic

Bookplate with standing female angel blowing trumpet and seated female angel. Between the two figures is a flowing banner on which is inscribed the owner's name. Below the figures and the ower's name is an inscribed poem.

THOMAS JAMES WISE HIS BOOK

BOOKS BRING ME FRIENDS WHERE'ER ON EARTH I BE. SOLACE OF SOLITUDE& BONDS OF SOCIETY! Engraving of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Sonnet on Samuel Taylor Coleridge by Dante Gabriel Rossetti --- First published in ”Ballads and Sonnets“ 1881 This is a printed copy of the poem taken from the first edition of <hi rend="i">Ballads and Sonnets</hi> text (page 315). 5 III. Samuel Taylor Coleridge His Soul fared forth (as from the deep home-grove The father-songster plies the hour-long quest,) To feed his soul-brood hungering in the nest; But his warm Heart, the mother-bird, above Their callow fledgling progeny still hove With tented roof of wings and fostering breast Till the Soul fed the soul-brood. Richly blest From Heaven their growth, whose food was Human Love. Yet ah! Like desert pools that show the stars Once in long leagues,—even such the scarce-snatched hours Which deepening pain left to his lordliest powers:— Heaven lost through spider-trammelled prison-bars. Five years, from seventy saved! Yet kindling skies Own them, a beacon to our centuries.