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Whence are we, and why are we? of what

scene The actors or spectators ? Great and mean Meet massed in death, who lends what life must

borrow. As long as skies are blue and fields are green, Evening must usher night, night urge the mor

row, Month follow month with woe, and year


year to sorrow.


He will awake no more, oh, never more! “Wake thou,” cried Misery,“ childless Mother,

rise Out of thy sleep, and slake, in thy heart's core, A wound more fierce than his with tears and

sighs.” And all the Dreams that watched Urania's

eyes, And all the Echoes whom their sister's song Had held in holy silence, cried, “ Arise!”

Swift as a Thought by the snake Memory stung, From her ambrosial rest the fading Splendor



She rose like an autumnal Night, that springs
Out of the East, and follows wild and drear
The golden Day, which, on eternal wings,
Even as a ghost abandoning a bier,
Had left the Earth a corpse ;

sorrow and fear So struck, so roused, so rapt Urania ; So saddened round her like an atmosphere

Of stormy mist; so swept her on her way Even to the mournful place where Adonais lay.

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Out of her secret Paradise she sped,
Through camps and cities rough with stone, and

And human hearts which, to her airy tread
Yielding not, wounded the invisible
Palms of her tender feet where'er they fell ;
And barbed tongues, and thoughts more sharp

than they,
Rent the soft Form they never could repel,

Whose sacred blood, like the young tears of May, Paved with eternal flowers that undeserving way.

In the death-chamber for a moment Death,
Shamed by the presence of that living Might,
Blushed to annihilation, and the breath
Revisited those lips, and life's pale light
Flashed through those limbs, so late her dear

“Leave me not wild and drear and comfortless,
As silent lightning leaves the starless night!

Leave me not !” cried Urania; her distress Roused Death ; Death rose and smiled, and met

her vain caress.



Stay yet awhile! speak to me once again ;
Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may live ;
And in my heartless breast and burning brain
That word, that kiss, shall all thoughts else


With food of saddest memory kept alive,
Now thou art dead, as if it were a part
Of thee, my Adonais ! I would give

All that I am to be as thou now art ! But I am chained to Time, and cannot thence depart!

XXVII “O gentle child, beautiful as thou wert, Why didst thou leave the trodden paths of men Too soon, and with weak hands though mighty

heart Dare the unpastured dragon in his den ? Defenceless as thou wert, oh, where was then Wisdom the mirrored shield, or scorn the spear r? Or hadst thou waited the full cycle, when

Thy spirit should have filled its crescent sphere, The monsters of life's waste had fled from thee

like deer.


6. The herded wolves, bold only to pursue ;
The obscene ravens, clamorous o'er the dead ;
The vultures, to the conqueror's banner true,
Who feed where Desolation first has fed,
And whose wings rain contagion ;- how they

When, like Apollo, from his golden bow
The Pythian of the age one arrow sped
And smiled ! -- The spoilers tempt no second

blow, They fawn on the proud feet that spurn them lying


xxviii. 9 lying low, Mrs. Shelley, 18391 || as they go, Shelley, 1821.


“ The sun comes forth, and many reptiles spawn;
He sets, and each ephemeral insect then
Is gathered into death without a dawn,
And the immortal stars awake again;
So is it in the world of living men :
A godlike mind soars forth, in its delight
Making earth bare and veiling heaven, and

It sinks, the swarms that dimmed or shared its

light Leave to its kindred lamps the spirit's awful



Thus ceased she; and the mountain shepherds


Their garlands sere, their magic mantles rent;
The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
Over his living head like Heaven is bent,
An early but enduring monument,
Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song
In sorrow; from her wilds Ierne sent

The sweetest lyrist of her saddest wrong, "U And love taught grief to fall like music from his



'Midst others of less note, came one frail Form,
A phantom among men; companion!ess
As the last cloud of an expiring storm
Whose thunder is its knell; he, as I guess,
Had gazed on Nature's naked loveliness,

xxx. 2 magic || tragic, Rossetti conj.

Actæon-like, and now he fled astray
With feeble steps o'er the world's wilderness,

And his own thoughts, along that rugged way, Pursued, like raging hounds, their father and their



A pard-like Spirit beautiful and swift
A love in desolation masked ;- a Power
Girt round with weakness; it can scarce uplift
The weight of the superincumbent hour;
It is a dying lamp, a falling shower,
A breaking billow ; - even whilst we speak
Is it not broken? On the withering flower

The killing sun smiles brightly; on a cheek
The life can burn in blood, even while the heart

may break.


His head was bound with pansies over-blown,
And faded violets, white, and pied, and blue ;
And a light spear topped with a cypress cone,
Round whose rude shaft dark ivy-tresses grew
Yet dripping with the forest's noonday dew,
Vibrated, as the ever-beating heart
Shook the weak hand that grasped it; of that

crew He came the last, neglected and apart; A herd-abandoned deer struck by the hunter's



All stood aloof, and at his partial moan
Smiled through their tears; well knew that

gentle band
Who in another's fate now wept



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