"Frost at Midnight," originally published in 1798, is generally considered one of Samuel Taylor Coleridge's best conversation poems—a type of poem that Coleridge created in which a speaker mulls over different topics as if in conversation with the reader. In this poem, the speaker sits up late at night in a rural cottage, his infant sleeping by his side. The speaker thinks about his own youth before turning to his hopes for his young child's future. Full of evocative natural imagery and religious meditations, the poem captures the gentle, drifting late-night thoughts of a parent.
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The Full Text of “Frost at Midnight”
1The Frost performs its secret ministry,
2Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry
3Came loud—and hark, again! loud as before.
4The inmates of my cottage, all at rest,
5Have left me to that solitude, which suits
6Abstruser musings: save that at my side
7My cradled infant slumbers peacefully.
8'Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs
9And vexes meditation with its strange
10And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and wood,
11This populous village! Sea, and hill, and wood,
12With all the numberless goings-on of life,
13Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame
14Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not;
15Only that film, which fluttered on the grate,
16Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing.
17Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature
18Gives it dim sympathies with me who live,
19Making it a companionable form,
20Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit
21By its own moods interprets, every where
22Echo or mirror seeking of itself,
23And makes a toy of Thought.
24 But O! how oft,
25How oft, at school, with most believing mind,
26Presageful, have I gazed upon the bars,
27To watch that fluttering stranger ! and as oft
28With unclosed lids, already had I dreamt
29Of my sweet birth-place, and the old church-tower,
30Whose bells, the poor man's only music, rang
31From morn to evening, all the hot Fair-day,
32So sweetly, that they stirred and haunted me
33With a wild pleasure, falling on mine ear
34Most like articulate sounds of things to come!
35So gazed I, till the soothing things, I dreamt,
36Lulled me to sleep, and sleep prolonged my dreams!
37And so I brooded all the following morn,
38Awed by the stern preceptor's face, mine eye
39Fixed with mock study on my swimming book:
40Save if the door half opened, and I snatched
41A hasty glance, and still my heart leaped up,
42For still I hoped to see the stranger's face,
43Townsman, or aunt, or sister more beloved,
44My play-mate when we both were clothed alike!
45 Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side,
46Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm,
47Fill up the intersperséd vacancies
48And momentary pauses of the thought!
49My babe so beautiful! it thrills my heart
50With tender gladness, thus to look at thee,
51And think that thou shalt learn far other lore,
52And in far other scenes! For I was reared
53In the great city, pent 'mid cloisters dim,
54And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars.
55But thou, my babe! shalt wander like a breeze
56By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags
57Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds,
58Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores
59And mountain crags: so shalt thou see and hear
60The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible
61Of that eternal language, which thy God
62Utters, who from eternity doth teach
63Himself in all, and all things in himself.
64Great universal Teacher! he shall mould
65Thy spirit, and by giving make it ask.
66 Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
67Whether the summer clothe the general earth
68With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
69Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
70Of mossy apple-tree, while the night-thatch
71Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall
72Heard only in the trances of the blast,
73Or if the secret ministry of frost
74Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
75Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.
The Full Text of “Frost at Midnight”
1The Frost performs its secret ministry,
2Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry
3Came loud—and hark, again! loud as before.
4The inmates of my cottage, all at rest,
5Have left me to that solitude, which suits
6Abstruser musings: save that at my side
7My cradled infant slumbers peacefully.
8'Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs
9And vexes meditation with its strange
10And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and wood,
11This populous village! Sea, and hill, and wood,
12With all the numberless goings-on of life,
13Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame
14Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not;
15Only that film, which fluttered on the grate,
16Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing.
17Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature
18Gives it dim sympathies with me who live,
19Making it a companionable form,
20Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit
21By its own moods interprets, every where
22Echo or mirror seeking of itself,
23And makes a toy of Thought.
24 But O! how oft,
25How oft, at school, with most believing mind,
26Presageful, have I gazed upon the bars,
27To watch that fluttering stranger ! and as oft
28With unclosed lids, already had I dreamt
29Of my sweet birth-place, and the old church-tower,
30Whose bells, the poor man's only music, rang
31From morn to evening, all the hot Fair-day,
32So sweetly, that they stirred and haunted me
33With a wild pleasure, falling on mine ear
34Most like articulate sounds of things to come!
35So gazed I, till the soothing things, I dreamt,
36Lulled me to sleep, and sleep prolonged my dreams!
37And so I brooded all the following morn,
38Awed by the stern preceptor's face, mine eye
39Fixed with mock study on my swimming book:
40Save if the door half opened, and I snatched
41A hasty glance, and still my heart leaped up,
42For still I hoped to see the stranger's face,
43Townsman, or aunt, or sister more beloved,
44My play-mate when we both were clothed alike!
45 Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side,
46Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm,
47Fill up the intersperséd vacancies
48And momentary pauses of the thought!
49My babe so beautiful! it thrills my heart
50With tender gladness, thus to look at thee,
51And think that thou shalt learn far other lore,
52And in far other scenes! For I was reared
53In the great city, pent 'mid cloisters dim,
54And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars.
55But thou, my babe! shalt wander like a breeze
56By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags
57Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds,
58Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores
59And mountain crags: so shalt thou see and hear
60The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible
61Of that eternal language, which thy God
62Utters, who from eternity doth teach
63Himself in all, and all things in himself.
64Great universal Teacher! he shall mould
65Thy spirit, and by giving make it ask.
66 Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
67Whether the summer clothe the general earth
68With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
69Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
70Of mossy apple-tree, while the night-thatch
71Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall
72Heard only in the trances of the blast,
73Or if the secret ministry of frost
74Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
75Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.
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“Frost at Midnight” Summary
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“Frost at Midnight” Themes
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The Divinity of Nature
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Childhood, Nature, and Hope
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Environment and State of Mind
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Line-by-Line Explanation & Analysis of “Frost at Midnight”
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Lines 1-6
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: -
Lines 6-11
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! -
Lines 11-16
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. -
Lines 17-19
Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature
Gives it dim sympathies with me who live,
Making it a companionable form, -
Lines 20-23
Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit
By its own moods interprets, every where
Echo or mirror seeking of itself,
And makes a toy of Thought. -
Lines 24-29
But O! how oft,
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 birth-place, -
Lines 29-34
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! -
Lines 35-39
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: -
Lines 40-44
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 play-mate when we both were clothed alike! -
Lines 45-48
Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side,
Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm,
Fill up the intersperséd vacancies
And momentary pauses of the thought! -
Lines 49-54
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. -
Lines 55-59
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: -
Lines 59-65
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. -
Lines 66-71
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 night-thatch
Smokes in the sun-thaw; -
Lines 71-75
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.
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“Frost at Midnight” Symbols
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Frost
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Soot
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Church Bells
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“Frost at Midnight” Poetic Devices & Figurative Language
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Apostrophe
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Alliteration
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Assonance
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Consonance
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Caesura
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Enjambment
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Simile
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Imagery
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Personification
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Repetition
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“Frost at Midnight” Vocabulary
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
- Frost
- Ministry
- Owlet
- Inmates
- Cottage
- Abstruser
- Musings
- Vexes
- Meditation
- Wood
- Film
- Grate
- Sympathies
- Freaks
- Idling
- Spirit
- Toy
- Oft
- Presageful
- Grazed
- Stranger
- Unclosed Lids
- Morn
- Fair-day
- Mine
- Articulate Sounds
- Soothing
- Brooded
- Preceptor
- Swimming
- Babe
- Intersperséd
- Vacancies
- Lore
- Pent 'mid cloisters dim
- Nought
- Crags
- Image
- Bulk
- Intelligible
- Mould
- General earth
- Betwixt
- Night-thatch
- Sun-thaw
- Eave-drops
- Trances
- Blast
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Form, Meter, & Rhyme Scheme of “Frost at Midnight”
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Form
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Meter
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Rhyme Scheme
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“Frost at Midnight” Speaker
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“Frost at Midnight” Setting
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Literary and Historical Context of “Frost at Midnight”
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More “Frost at Midnight” Resources
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External Resources
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Pantisocracy — An essay on Pantisocracy, the religious-communistic utopia that Coleridge and his friends had hoped to found.
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A Movie Star Reads the Poem — Hear Richard Burton read "Frost at Midnight."
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A Biography of Coleridge — A detailed biography of Samuel Taylor Coleridge from the Poetry Foundation.
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Coleridge Cottage — The cottage where Coleridge wrote "Frost at Midnight" is in the southwest of England, where it is preserved by the National Trust. Their website has photos and historical information.
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More on "Frost at Midnight" — An article of "Frost at Midnight" from the Poetry Foundation.
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LitCharts on Other Poems by Samuel Coleridge
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