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By the dark creeds which cover with I curse thee by a parent's outraged love,

eclipse By hopes long cherished and too Their pathway from the cradle to the lately lost,

tombBy gentle feelings thou couldst never

prove, By griefs which thy stern nature never By thy most impious Hell, and all its crost;

terror; By all the grief, the madness, and the

guilt By those infantine smiles of happy light, of thine impostures, which must be Which were a fire within a stranger's

their errorhearth,

That sand on which thy crumbling Quenched even when kindled, in un

power is builttimely night, Hiding the promise of a lovely birth;

By thy complicity with lust and hate

Thy thirst for tears—thy hunger after By those unpractised accents of young The ready frauds which ever on thee

goldspeech, Which he who is a father thought to

waitframe

The servile arts in which thou hast To gentlest lore, such as the wisest

grown oldteachThou strike the lyre of mind ! O grief and shame!

By thy most killing sneer, and by thy

smileVIII

By all the arts and snares of thy

black den, By all the happy see in children's and for thou canst outweep the crocogrowth-

dileThat undeveloped flower of budding

By thy false tears — those millstones years

braining menSweetness and sadness interwoven both, Source of the sweetest hopes and saddest fears—

By all the hate which checks a father's

love

By all the scorn which kills a father's By all the days under an hireling's care, Of dull constraint and bitter heavi.

By those most impious hands which ness,

dared remove O wretched ye if ever any were,

Nature's high bounds—by thee-and Sadder than orphans, yet not father

by despair less !

XV By the false cant which on their inno. Yes, the despair which bids a father cent lips

groan, Must hang like poison on an opening And cry, “My children are no longer bloom,

mine

XIII

XIV

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mine own,

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The blood within those veins may be Near thy sweet mother's anxious heart,

Which thou with joy shalt fill, But - Tyrant - their polluted souls With fairest smiles of wonder thrown are thine ;—"

On that which is indeed our own,

And which in distant lands will be
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The dearest playmate unto thee.
I curse thee—though I hate thee not-

O slave!
If thou couldst quench the earth-con-

Fear not the tyrants will rule for ever,
suming Hell
Of which thou art a dæmon, on thy

Or the priests of the evil faith ;

They stand on the brink of that raging grave This curse should be a blessing.

river, Fare thee well !

Whose waves they have tainted with

death.
It is fed from the depth of a thousand

dells,
TO WILLIAM SHELLEY

Around them it foams and rages and

swells;

And their swords and their sceptres I The billows on the beach are leaping

floating see,
around it,

Like wrecks on the surge of eternity.
The bark is weak and frail,
The sea looks black, and the clouds

that bound it Darkly strew the gale.

Rest, rest, and shriek not, thou gentle

child ! Come with me, thou delightful child, Come with me, though the wave is wild,

The rocking of the boat thou fearest, And the winds are loose, we must not And the cold spray and the clamour

wild ?stay,

There sit between Or the slaves of the law may rend thee

us two, thou

dearestaway.

Me and thy mother-well we know They have taken thy brother and sister with all its dark and hungry graves,

The storm at which thou tremblest so, dear, They have made them unfit for thee; Who hunt us o'er these sheltering waves.

Less cruel than the savage slaves They have withered the smile and dried

the tear Which should have been sacred to

This hour will in thy memory To a blighting faith and a cause of

Be a dream of days forgotten long, crime

We soon shall dwell by the azure sea They have bound them slaves in youthly Of serene and golden Italy, prime,

Or Greece, the Mother of the free; And they will curse my name and thee

And I will teach thine infant tongue Because we are fearless and free. To call upon those heroes old

In their own language, and will mould

Thy growing spirit in the fame Come thou, beloved as thou art ; Of Grecian lore, that by such name Another sleepeth still

A patriot's birthright thou mayst claim !

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me.

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The stream we gazed on-then, rolled by; Its waves are unreturning;

But we yet stand

Thou wert not, Cassius, and thou

couldst not be, Last of the Romans, though thy

memory claim From Brutus his own glory—and on

thee

III

Rests the full splendour of his sacred Those may not know who cannot faine;

weep for them. Nor he who dared make the foul tyrant

quail Amid his cowering senate with thy

name, Though thou and he were great-it will

Once more descend avail

The shadows of my soul upon manTo thine own fame that Otho's should

kind, not fail.

For to those hearts with which they II

never blend,

Thoughts are but shadows which the 'Twill wrong thee not—thou wouldst,

flashing mind if thou couldst feel,

From the swift clouds which track its Abjure such envious fame — great

flight of fire, Otho died

Casts on the gloomy world it leaves Like thee-he sanctified his country's

behind. steel, At once the tyrant and tyrannicide, In his own blood- 1-a deed it was to

FRAGMENT: A CLOUD. bring Tears from all men—though full of

CHARIOT gentle pride,

O THAT a chariot of cloud were mine! Such pride as from impetuous love may Of cloud which the wild tempest spring,

weaves in air, That will not be refused its offering.

When the moon over the ocean's line

Is spreading the locks of her bright
FRAGMENTS SUPPOSED TO
BE PARTS OF OTHO

O that a chariot of cloud were mine!
I would sail on the waves of the

billowy wind Those whom nor power, nor lying faith, so the mountain peak and the rocky nor toil,

lake, Nor custom, queen of many slaves, And the ..

makes blind, Have ever grieved that man should be

FRAGMENT: TO ONE FREED the spoil Of his own weakness, and with ear.

FROM PRISON nest mind

For me, my friend, if not that tears did Fed hopes of its redemption, these

tremble Chastened by deathsul victory now,

In my faint eyes, and that my heart

beat fast and find

With feelings which make rapture pain Foundations in this foulest age, and stir

resemble, Me whom they cheer to be their

Yet, from thy voice that salsehood minister.

starts aghast,

I thank thee-let the tyrant keep Dark is the realm of grief: but human His chains and tears, yea let him weep things

With rage to see thee freshly risen,

gray hair,

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Like strength from slumber, from the When once from our possession they prison,

must pass; In which he vainly hoped the soul to But love, though misdirected, is bind

among Which on the chains must prey that | The things which are immortal, and fetter humankind.

surpass

All that frail stuff which will be - or FRAGMENT: SATAN AT LARGE

which was. A GOLDEN-WINGÈD Angel stood

Before the Eternal Judgment-seat: FRAGMENT: THOUGHTS IN His looks were wild, and Devils' blood

SOLITUDE
Stained his dainty hands and feet.
The Father and the Son

My thoughts arise and fade in solitude, Knew that strise was now begun.

The verse that would invest them They knew that Satan had broken his

melts away chain,

Like moonlight in the heaven of And with millions of demons in his spreading day : train,

How beautiful they were, how firm they Was ranging over the world again.

stood, Before the Angel had told his tale, Flecking the starry sky like wover A sweet and a creeping sound

pearl ! Like the rushing of wings was heard

around; And suddenly the lamps grew pale---

FRAGMENT: THE FIGHT The lamps, before the Archangels seven,

WAS O’ER That burn continually in heaven.

The fight was o’er: the flashing through

the gloom FRAGMENT: UNSATISFIED

Which robes the cannon as he wings a DESIRE

tomb

Had ceased. To thirst and find no fill - to wail and

wander With short uneasy steps- to pause and

A HATE-SONG ponderTo feel the blood run through the veins A Hater he came and sat by a ditch, and tingle

And he took an old cracked lute; Where busy thought and blind sensation And he sang a song which was more of mingle;

a screech To nurse the image of unselt caresses

'Gainst a woman that was a brute. Till dim imagination just possesses The half created shadow.

LINES TO A CRITIC

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FRAGMENT: LOVE IMMORTAL
Wealth and dominion fade into the Honey from silkworms who can gather,

Or silk from the yellow bee? Of the great sea of human right and The grass may grow in winter weather wrong,

As soon as hate in me.

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