Hartley Coleridge

* * *

He lived amidst th' untrodden ways
    To Rydal Lake that lead: --
A bard whom there were none to praise,
    And very few to read.

Behind a cloud his mystic sense,
    Deep-hidden, who can spy?
Bright as the night, when not a star
    Is shining in the sky.

Unread his works -- his 'Milk-white Doe'
     With dust is dark and dim;
11It's still in Longman's shop, and Oh!
     The difference to him!