Then vanish'd all the lovely lights, The spirits of the air, No souls of mortal men were they, But spirits bright and fair. _MS. Correction by S. T. C. in a copy of L. B. 1798._ [511] makes] maketh (a pencilled correction in 1828, ? by S. T. C.). PART VII] VII. L. B. 1798, 1800: The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Part the Seventh S. L. 1829: The Ancient Mariner. Part the Seventh 1828. [517] marineres] mariners L. B. 1800. [518] That come from a far Contrée. L. B. 1798. [523] neared] ner'd L. B. 1798, 1800. [529] looked] look L. B. 1798, 1800, S. L. [533] Brown] The L. B. 1798, 1800, S. L. [for _The_ read _Brown_. _Errata_, S. L. 1817, p. (xi)]. [543] nor . . . nor] ne . . . ne L. B. 1798. [577] What manner man L. B. 1798, 1800. [582-5] Since then at an uncertain hour, Now ofttimes and now fewer, That anguish comes and makes me tell My ghastly aventure. L. B. 1798. [583] agony] agency [_a misprint_] L. B. 1800. [588] That] The L. B. 1798, 1800. [610] Farewell, farewell] _The comma to be omitted._ _Errata_, L. B. 1798. [618] The Marinere L. B. 1798. SONNETS ATTEMPTED IN THE MANNER OF CONTEMPORARY WRITERS[209:1] [SIGNED 'NEHEMIAH HIGGINBOTTOM'] I Pensive at eve on the _hard_ world I mus'd, And _my poor_ heart was sad: so at the Moon I gaz'd--and sigh'd, and sigh'd!--for, ah! how soon Eve darkens into night. Mine eye perus'd With tearful vacancy the _dampy_ grass 5 Which wept and glitter'd in the _paly_ ray; And _I did pause me_ on my lonely way, And _mused me_ on those _wretched ones_ who pass _O'er the black heath_ of Sorrow. But, alas! Most of _Myself_ I thought: when it befell 10 That the _sooth_ Spirit of the breezy wood Breath'd in mine ear--'All this is very well; But much of _one_ thing is for _no_ thing good.' Ah! my _poor heart's_ INEXPLICABLE SWELL! II TO SIMPLICITY O! I do love thee, meek _Simplicity_! For of thy lays the lulling simpleness Goes to my heart and soothes each small distress, Distress though small, yet haply great to me! 'Tis true on Lady Fortune's gentlest pad 5 I amble on; yet, though I know not why, _So_ sad I am!--but should a friend and I Grow cool and _miff_, O! I am _very_ sad! And then with sonnets and with sympathy My dreamy bosom's mystic woes I pall; 10 Now of my false friend plaining plaintively, Now raving at mankind in general; But, whether sad or fierce, 'tis simple all, All very simple, meek Simplicity! III ON A RUINED HOUSE IN A ROMANTIC COUNTRY