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Anon the sky is cleared, and the high dome
94 with fiery, Rossetti || with its fiery, Garnett. 102 his, Boscombe MS. || its, Rossetti. 106 that, Garnett || who, Rossetti. 112 willow trees, Rossetti || willows, too, Garnett. 113 huge, Rossetti || long, Garnett. 116 starlike ... odors, Rossetti || starry odor, Garnett.
The birds are silent, hanging down their heads,
THE season was the childhood of sweet June,
They were two cousins, almost like two twins,
showers Lull or awaken in their purple prime, Which the same hand will gather, the same clime Shake with decay. This fair day smiles to see
Fiordispina. Published, 11-30, by Mrs. Shelley, 1824, 1-82, by Garnett, 1862, and dated, 1820.
11 two, Mrs. Shelley, 18391 || to, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.
All those who love — and who e'er loved like
thee, Fiordispina ? Scarcely Cosimo, Within whose bosom and whose brain now glow The ardor's of a vision which obscure The very idol of its portraiture. He faints, dissolved into a sea of love; But thou art as a planet sphered above; But thou art Love itself — ruling the motion Of his subjected spirit; such emotion Must end in sin or sorrow, if sweet May Had not brought forth this morn, your wedding
“ Lie there; sleep awhile in your own dew,
A table near of polished porphyry.
which did reprove The childish pity that she felt for them,
remorse that from their stem She had divided such fair shapes mad A feeling in the
which was a shade Of gentle beauty on the flowers; there lay
20 e'er, Garnett || ever, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.
Garnett Il sense, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.
All gems that make the earth's dark bosom
rods of myrtle-buds and lemon-blooms,
Fiordispina and her nurse are now
step by step and stair by stair, That withered
woman, gray and white and brown More like a trunk by lichens overgrown Than anything which once could have been hu
And ever as she goes the palsied woman
“ How slow and painfully you seem to walk, Poor Media ! you tire yourself with talk.”
66 And well it may, Fiordispina, dearest — well-a-day! You are hastening to a marriage-bed ; I to the grave! " And if my love were
dead, Unless my heart deceives me, I would lie Beside him in my shroud as willingly As now in the gay night-dress Lilla wrought. “ Fie, child! Let that unseasonable thought Not be remembered till it snows in June; Such fancies are a music out of tune
With the sweet dance your heart must keep to
THE BIRTH OF PLEASURE
At the creation of the Earth
With a beauty clear and warm. The Birth of Pleasure. Forman || no title, Garnett. Published by Garnett, 1862, and dated, 1819.