Frost at Midnight - Samuel Taylor Coleridge
/Frost at Midnight - Samuel Taylor Coleridge/
Frost at Midnight - Samuel Taylor Coleridge
/Frost at Midnight - Samuel Taylor Coleridge/
Original Poem (English), line by line:
The Frost performs its secret ministry,
Unhelped by any wind. The owlet’s cry
Came loud—and hark, again! loud as before.
The inmates of my cottage, all at rest,
Have left me to that solitude, which suits
Abstruser musings: save that at my side
My cradled infant slumbers peacefully.
’Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs
And vexes meditation with its strange
And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and wood,
This populous village! Sea, and hill, and wood,
With all the numberless goings-on of life,
Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame
Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not;
Only that film, which fluttered on the grate,
Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing.
Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature
Gives it dim sympathies with me who live,
Making it a companionable form,
To which the living spirit in our frame,
That loves not to behold a lifeless thing,
Transfuses its own pleasures, its own will.
How oft, at school, with most believing mind,
Presageful, have I gazed upon the bars,
To watch that fluttering stranger! and as oft
With unclosed lids, already had I dreamt
Of my sweet birthplace, and the old church-tower,
Whose bells, the poor man’s only music, rang
From morn to evening, all the hot Fair-day,
So sweetly, that they stirred and haunted me
With a wild pleasure, falling on mine ear
Most like articulate sounds of things to come!
So gazed I, till the soothing things, I dreamt,
Lulled me to sleep, and sleep prolonged my dreams!
And so I brooded all the following morn,
Awed by the stern preceptor’s face, mine eye
Fixed with mock study on my swimming book:
Save if the door half opened, and I snatched
A hasty glance, and still my heart leaped up,
For still I hoped to see the stranger’s face,
Townsman, or aunt, or sister more beloved,
My playmate when we both were clothed alike!
Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side,
Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm,
Fill up the interspersed vacancies
And momentary pauses of the thought!
My babe so beautiful! it thrills my heart
With tender gladness, thus to look at thee,
And think that thou shalt learn far other lore
And in far other scenes! For I was reared
In the great city, pent ’mid cloisters dim,
And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars.
But thou, my babe! shalt wander like a breeze
By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags
Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds,
Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores
And mountain crags: so shalt thou see and hear
The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible
Of that eternal language, which thy God
Utters, who from eternity doth teach
Himself in all, and all things in himself.
Great universal Teacher! he shall mould
Thy spirit, and by giving make it ask.
Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall,
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Or if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.
In “Frost at Midnight,” Samuel Taylor Coleridge sits awake in his cottage one still, frost-filled night, contemplating the interplay between external silence and internal reflection. Surrounded by his sleeping family—and especially his infant child—he drifts into recollections of his own boyhood. He vividly recalls his longing for home when confined at a boarding school, his mind wandering at the sight of a fluttering film on the fireplace grate. That same flitting movement reappears here, echoing the hush of the night and resonating with Coleridge’s introspection.
The poet finds tranquility in nature’s subdued presence, yet also a gentle disquiet. This combination of calm and faint unease underscores the Romantic fascination with liminal moments when the veil between inner feeling and outer environment seems especially thin. The child dozing nearby becomes a figure of hope: Coleridge envisions that this new generation will learn from nature directly, unhindered by urban enclosures and rigid schooling. Such upbringing, he suggests, will deepen spiritual consciousness by allowing a more intuitive communication with God’s ‘eternal language’—the shapes and sounds of the natural world.
Throughout the poem, Coleridge exemplifies Romantic ideals: an emphasis on memory’s power, an elevation of innocence and wonder, and an almost mystical appreciation of nature’s subtle influence. The frost, silent and quietly transformative, parallels the poet’s own belief in unseen forces that shape and mold the human spirit. This reflective mood culminates in a kind of joyful prophecy about the child’s future, wherein all seasons become sources of insight, each moment brimming with the potential to teach reverence for life. Thus, “Frost at Midnight” serves as a poignant meditation on how parental love, solitude, and communion with nature can nurture both spiritual depth and poetic imagination. (Approx. 280 words)
1. Coleridge contrasts his own urban upbringing with a vision of childhood grounded in nature.
2. The poem highlights the Romantic fascination with silent, liminal moments of insight.
3. Introspection and memory intertwine, influenced by the subtle stimuli of a frosty, moonlit night.
4. Parental affection inspires a hopeful vision of a more harmonious, nature-attuned future.
5. Subtle natural forces—like the ‘secret ministry of frost’—reflect Coleridge’s belief in the unseen currents shaping human experience.