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The Serchio, twisting forth Between the marble barriers which it clove

At Ripafratta, leads through the dread chasm The wave that died the death which lovers love,

Living in what it sought; as if this spasm Had not yet passed, the toppling mountains cling,

But the clear stream in full enthusiasm Pours itself on the plain, then wandering,

Down one clear path of effluence crystalline Sends its superfluous waves, that they may fling

At Arno's feet tribute of corn and wine; Then, through the pestilential deserts wild

Of tangled marsh and woods of stunted pine, It rushes to the Ocean.



SUMMER was dead and Autumn was expiring,

And infant Winter laughed upon the land All cloudlessly and cold; when I, desiring

More in this world than any understand, Wept o'er the beauty, which, like sea retiring, Had left the earth bare as the wave-worn

sand Of my lorn heart, and o'er the grass and flowers Pale for the falsehood of the flattering hours.

112 then, Boscombe MS. || until, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.
114 superfluous, Boscombe MS. || clear, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.
117 pine, Boscombe MS. || fir, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.

The Zucca. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824, and dated, January,

1822. i. 7 lorn, Boscombe MS. || poor,

Mrs. Shelley, 1824.

Summer was dead, but I yet lived to weep

The instability of all but weeping;
And on the earth lulled in her winter sleep

I woke, and envied her as she was sleeping.
Too happy Earth! over thy face shall creep

The wakening vernal airs, until thou, leaping From unremembered dreams shalt see No death divide thy immortality.

I loved — oh, no, I mean not one of ye,

Or any earthly one, though ye are dear
As human heart to human heart may be;

I loved I know not what — but this low sphere, And all that it contains, contains not thee,

Thou, whom, seen nowhere, I feel everywhere. From heaven and earth, and all that in them are Veiled art thou like a


IV By Heaven and Earth, from all whose shapes thou

flowest, Neither to be contained, delayed, nor hidden; Making divine the loftiest and the lowest,

When for a moment thou art not forbidden To live within the life which thou bestowest;

And leaving noblest things vacant and chidden, iii. 7 Boscombe MS. || Dim object of my soul's idolatry, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.

iü. 8 Boscombe MS. || omit, Mrs. Shelley, 18391 ; Veiled art thou like .... Mrs. Shelley, 1824.

iv. 2 nor, Boscombe MS. || or, 1824.

Cold as a corpse after the spirit's flight,
Blank as the sun after the birth of night.


In winds, and trees, and streams, and all things

common, In music, and the sweet unconscious tone Of animals, and voices which are human,

Meant to express some feelings of their own; In the soft motions and rare smile of woman, In flowers and leaves, and in the grass fresh

shown Or dying in the autumn, - I the most Adore thee present, or lament thee lost.


And thus I went lamenting, when I saw

A plant upon the river's margin lie,
Like one who loved beyond his nature's law,

And in despair had cast him down to die;
Its leaves which had outlived the frost, the thaw
Had blighted, like a heart which hatred's

eye Can blast not, but which pity kills; the dew Lay on its spotted leaves like tears too true.


The Heavens had wept upon it, but the Earth

Had crushed it on her unmaternal breast

v. 6 grass fresh, Boscombe MS. || fresh grass, Mrs. Shelley," 1824.

vi. 6 like, Boscombe MS. II as, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.


I bore it to my chamber and I planted

It in a vase full of the lightest mould ; The winter beams which out of Heaven slanted Fell through the window panes, disrobed of

cold, Upon its leaves and flowers; the star which panted In evening for the Day, whose car has rolled Over the horizon's wave, with looks of light Smiled on it from the threshold of the night.


The mitigated influences of air

And light revived the plant, and from it grew Strong leaves and tendrils, and its flowers fair,

Full as a cup with the vine's burning dew, O'erflowed with golden colors; an atmosphere

Of vital warmth enfolded it anew, And every impulse sent to every part The unbeheld pulsations of its heart.


Well might the plant grow beautiful and strong,

Even if the air and sun had smiled not on it ; For one wept o'er it all the winter long Tears pure as Heaven's rain, which fell upon

it Hour after hour; for sounds of softest song,

Mixed with the stringéd melodies that won it To leave the gentle lips on which it slept, Had loosed the heart of him who sat and wept.

x. 2 air and sun, Boscombe MS. || sun and air, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.


XI Had loosed his heart, and shook the leaves and


On which he wept, the while the savage

storm Waked by the darkest of December's hours

Was raving round the chamber hushed and


The birds were shivering in their leafless bowers,

The fish were frozen in the pools, the form
Of every summer plant was dead
Whilst this



We meet not as we parted,

We feel more than all may see;
My bosom is heavy-hearted,

And thine full of doubt for me.
One moment has bound the free.


That moment is gone forever,

Like lightning that flashed and died,
Like a snowflake upon the river,

Like a sunbeam upon the tide,
Which the dark shadows hide.


That moment from time was singled

As the first of a life of pain ;
Lines. Published by Garnett, 1862, and dated, 1822.

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