from The Bijou Literary Annual, 1828
author: By S.T. Coleridge, Esq.
source date: 1828
edition published: 20170606
availability: Freely available via a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License

The Bijou;
or Annual of Literature and the Arts

compiled by William Fraser
William Pickering London
1828
p. 28

Work Without Hope. Lines Composed on a Day in February

By S.T. Coleridge, Esq.

ALL Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair —
The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing —
And WINTER slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.

Yet well I ken the banks where Amaranths blow,
Have traced the forest whence streams of nectar flow.
Bloom, O ye Amaranths! Bloom for whom ye may —
For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
With lips unbrightened, wreathless brow, I stroll:
And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul?
WORK WITHOUT HOPE draws nectar in a sieve,
And HOPE without an OBJECT cannot live.