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The eternal Hunger sits, but pity and awe
So fair a prey, till darkness and the law
Oh, weep for Adonais ! — The quick Dreams,
mourn their lot Round the cold heart, where, after their sweet
pain, They ne'er will gather strength, or find a home
And one with trembling hand clasps his cold
head, And fans him with her moonlight wings, and
cries, “Our love, our hope, our sorrow, is not dead ; See, on the silken fringe of his faint eyes, Like dew upon a sleeping flower, there lies A tear some Dream has loosened from his brain.” Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise !
She knew not 'twas her own ; as with no stain She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.
viii. 9 Galignani, 1829 || Of mortal change shall fill the grave which is her maw, Shelley, 1821.
One from a lucid urn of starry dew
A greater loss with one which was more weak; And dull the barbèd fire against his frozen cheek.
Another Splendor on his mouth alit,
Of moonlight vapor, which the cold night clips, It flushed through his pale limbs, and passed to
And others came - Desires and Adorations, Wingèd Persuasions and veiled Destinies, Splendors, and Glooms, and glimmering Incar
nations Of hopes and fears, and twilight Fantasies ; And Sorrow, with her family of Sighs, And Pleasure, blind with tears, led by the gleam
xii. 6 his, Shelley, 1821 || its, Mrs. Shelley, 18391.
Of her own dying smile instead of eyes,
Like pageantry of mist on an autumnal stream.
All he had loved, and moulded into thought
Pale Ocean in unquiet slumber lay, And the wild winds flew round, sobbing in their dismay.
XV Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains, And feeds her grief with his remembered lay, And will no more reply to winds or fountains, Or amorous birds perched on the young green
spray, Or herdsman's horn, or bell at closing day; Since she can mimic not his lips, more dear Than those for whose disdain she pined away Into a shadow of all sounds :
a drear Murmur, between their songs, is all the woodmen
Grief made the young Spring wild, and she
threw down Her kindling buds, as if she Autumn were,
Or they dead leaves ; since her delight is flown, For whom should she have waked the sullen
To Phæbus was not Hyacinth so dear,
Amid the faint companions of their youth,
Thy spirit's sister, the lorn nightingale,
breast, And scared the angel soul that was its earthly
XVIII Ah woe is me! Winter is come and gone, But grief returns with the revolving year ; The airs and streams renew their joyous tone ; The ants, the bees, the swallows, reappear ; Fresh leaves and flowers deck the dead Seasons'
bier ; The amorous birds now pair in every brake, And build their mossy homes in field and brere; And the green lizard and the golden snake, Like unimprisoned flames, out of their trance
xvi. 3 Or, || And, James Thomson conj.
8 faint companions, Mrs. Shelley, 18391 || drooping comrades, Shelley, 1821.
Through wood and stream and field and hill
and Ocean, A quickening life from the Earth's heart has
burst, As it has ever done, with change and motion, From the great morning of the world when first God dawned on Chaos ; in its stream immersed, The lamps of Heaven flash with a softer light; All baser things pant with life's sacred thirst,
Diffuse themselves, and spend in love's delight The beauty and the joy of their renewed might.
The leprous corpse, touched by this spirit tender,
By sightless lightning ? the intense atom glows A moment, then is quenched in a most cold repose.
Alas! that all we loved of him should be,
xx. 3 when, II where or whose, Rossetti conj.