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I FEAR thy kisses, gentle maiden,
Thou needest not fear mine;
Ever to burden thine.
I fear thy mien, thy tones, thy motion,
Thou needest not fear mine;
With which I worship thine.
From her couch of snows
From cloud and from crag,
With many a jag,
She leapt down the rocks,
With her rainbow locks
Her steps paved with green
The downward ravine
And gliding and springing,
To - Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824. Arethusa. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824, and dated by her, Pisa, 1820.
In murmurs as soft as sleep ;
The Earth seemed to love her,
And Heaven smiled above her, As she lingered towards the deep.
Then Alpheus bold,
On his glacier cold,
And opened a chasm
with the spasm All Erymanthus shook.
And the black south wind
It concealed behind The urns of the silent snow,
And earthquake and thunder
Did rend in sunder The bars of the springs below.
The beard and the hair
Of the River-god were Seen through the torrent's sweep,
As he followed the light
Of the fleet nymph's flight To the brink of the Dorian deep.
“Oh, save me! Oh, guide me,
And bid the deep hide me, For he grasps me now by the hair!”
The loud Ocean heard,
To its blue depth stirred,
And under the water
Fled like a sunny beam;
Behind her descended
Her billows, unblended With the brackish Dorian stream.
Like a gloomy stain
On the emerald main Alpheus rushed behind,
As an eagle pursuing
A dove to its ruin Down the streams of the cloudy wind.
Under the bowers
Where the Ocean Powers Sit on their pearlèd thrones ;
Through the coral woods
Of the weltering floods, Over heaps of unvalued stones ;
Through the dim beams
Which amid the streams Weave a network of colored light;
And under the caves,
Where the shadowy waves Are as green as the forest's night;
Outspeeding the shark,
And the swordfish dark, Under the ocean foam,
And up through the rifts
Of the mountain clifts They passed to their Dorian home.
Down one vale where the morning basks,
Like friends once parted
At sunrise they leap
From their cradles steep
At noontide they flow
Through the woods below
And at night they sleep
In the rocking deep
Like spirits that lie
In the azure sky
SONG OF PROSERPINE
WHILE GATHERING FLOWERS ON THE PLAIN OF ENNA
SACRED Goddess, Mother Earth,
Thou from whose immortal bosom
Leaf and blade, and bud and blossom,
lese young flowers
If with mists of evening dew
Thou dost nourish these
Fairest children of the hours,
Breathe thine influence most divine
HYMN OF APOLLO
THE sleepless Hours who watch me as I lie,
Curtained with star-inwoven tapestries From the broad moonlight of the sky,
Fanning the busy dreams from my dim eyes, Waken me when their Mother, the gray Dawn, Tells them that dreams and that the moon is gone.
Then I arise, and climbing Heaven's blue dome,
I walk over the mountains and the waves, Leaving my robe upon the ocean foam ;
My footsteps pave the clouds with fire; the
Are filled with my bright presence, and the air
III The sunbeams are my shafts, with which I kill Deceit, that loves the night and fears the
Fly me, and from the glory of my ray
Hymn of Apollo. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824.