19 Mar
2010
19 Mar
'10
10:02 a.m.
D'st be loth To be such a traveller as I. Happy, happy liver! _With a soul as strong as a mountain River Pouring out praise to th' Almighty Giver_, Joy and jollity be with us both, Hearing thee or else some other As merry as a Brother I on the earth will go plodding on, By myself, cheerfully, till the day is done.' The two lines in italics are discordant. But again it is no question of language in itself; it is an internal discrepancy between the parts of a whole already debilitated by metrical insecurity. Coleridge's second point against
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Braune