The whirlwind is rolling, The thunder is tolling, The forest is swinging, The minster bells ringing — The Earth is like Ocean, II "Our boat has one sail, Who should follow us now," And she cried, "Ply the oar; And from isle, tower and rock, From the lee. III "And fear'st thou, and fear'st thou? And see'st thou, and hear'st thou ? And drive we not free O'er the terrible sea, One boat-cloak did cover Their blood beats one measure, While around the lashed Ocean, IV In the court of the fortress Like a bloodhound well beaten The bridegroom stands, eaten By shame ; On the topmost watch-turret, And with curses as wild As e'er clung to child, He devotes to the blast The best, loveliest, and last Of his name! LINES WRITTEN ON HEARING THE NEWS OF THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON WHAT! alive and so bold, O Earth? What! leapest thou forth as of old Are not the limbs still when the ghost is fled, How! is not thy quick heart cold? What spark is alive on thy hearth? Of that most fiery spirit, when it fled; "Who has known me of old," replied Earth, "Or who has my story told? It is thou who art over-bold." And the lightning of scorn laughed forth sung, "To my bosom I fold All my sons when their knell is knolled, Lines written on hearing the News of the Death of Napoleon. Mrs. Shelley, 18391 || Written on hearing the News of the Death of Napoleon, Shelley, 1821. Published with Hellas, 1821. ii. 8 dost thou, Rossetti. And so with living motion all are fed, And the quick spring like weeds out of the dead. "Still alive and still bold," shouted Earth, Till by the spirit of the mighty dead I feed on whom I fed. "Ay, alive and still bold," muttered Earth, 66 Napoleon's fierce spirit rolled, In terror, and blood, and gold, A torrent of ruin to death from his birth. And weave into his shame, which like the dead SONNET POLITICAL GREATNESS NOR happiness, nor majesty, nor fame, Nor peace, nor strength, nor skill in arms or arts, Shepherd those herds whom tyranny makes tame; Verse echoes not one beating of their hearts, Sonnet. Political Greatness, Mrs. Shelley, 1824 || Sonnet to the Republic of Benevento, Harvard MS. Published by Mrs. Shelley, History is but the shadow of their shame, Of their own likeness. What are numbers knit A BRIDAL SONG I THE golden gates of sleep unbar Where strength and beauty, met together, Kindle their image like a star In a sea of glassy weather! Night, with all thy stars look down; Darkness, weep thy holiest dew; Never smiled the inconstant moon On a pair so true. Let eyes not see their own delight; Haste, swift hour, and thy flight Oft renew. II Fairies, sprites, and angels, keep her! 6 the | its, Harvard MS. A Bridal Song. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824. |