Tuesday, October 28, 2014


Lost in a Welsh thunderstorm
Joseph Hucks, friend of the poet,
Found shelter with Coleridge and two men
Whose names are unknown to history.
About midnight, Coleridge thought
It would be as well to go mountain climbing;
The lightning would illuminate the way
And the wind hurling rain at them
Would be invigorating. For once his golden tongue
Failed to persuade. He took the only bench;
The nameless men were given blankets
And slept on the floor, wrapped in them.
Hucks was allotted the most uncomfortable chair
In all of Southern Wales. Searching the house
He found only one book: a Welsh dictionary
Which he spent the night reading.

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