"Long Time a Child" by Hartley Coleridge

If you were to ask me to name the one poem with which I identify the most, it would be this one. And it has been, for many, many years. Hartley was Samuel Taylor Coleridge eldest son, so he had much to live up to! For me, with this one alone, he scored his place as a poet. The breaks are mine. The poem has long been presented as one verse. I have taken the liberty to do this for the sake of clarity. It is a beautiful, though sad, sentiment expressed with great skill.

LONG TIME A CHILD by Hartley Coleridge

Long time a child, and still a child, when years

had painted manhood on my cheek, was I,—

For yet I lived like one not born to die;

a thriftless prodigal of smiles and tears,

no hope I needed, and I knew no fears.

But sleep, though sweet, is only sleep, and waking,

I waked to sleep no more, at once o’ertaking

the vanguard of my age, with all arrears

of duty on my back. Nor child, nor man,

nor youth, nor sage, I find my head is grey.

For I have lost the race I never ran:

a rathe December blights my lagging May;

and still I am a child, tho’ I be old.

Time is my debtor for my years untold.