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of schools, but to those of Nature and truth. wild and joyous spirits, or in more serious The first entrance to Rome opened to him conversation expounded his opinions with a scene of remains of antique grandeur that vivacity and eloquence. If an argument far surpassed his expectations; and the arose, no man ever argued better. He unspeakable beauty of Naples and its en- was clear, logical, and earnest, in supportvirons added to the impression he received ing his own views; attentive, patient, and of the transcendent and glorious beauty of impartial, while listening to those on the Italy.

adverse side, Had not a wall of prejudice Our winter was spent at Naples. Here been raised at this time between him and he wrote the fragments of Marenghi and his countrymen, how many would have The Woodman and the Nightingale, which sought the acquaintance of one whom to he afterwards threw aside. At this time, know was to love and to revere! How Shelley suffered greatly in health. He put many of the more enlightened of his conhimself under the care of a medical man, temporaries have since regretted that they who promised great things, and made him did not seek him ! how very few knew his endure severe bodily pain, without any good worth while he lived ! and, of those few, results. Constant and poignant physical several were withheld by timidity or envy suffering exhausted him ; and though he from declaring their sense of it.

But no preserved the appearance of cheerfulness, man was ever more enthusiastically loved and often greatly enjoyed our wanderings --more looked up to, as one superior to in the environs of Naples, and our excur- his fellows in intellectual endowments and sions on its sunny sea, yet many hours were moral worth, by the few who knew him passed when his thoughts, shadowed by well, and had sufficient nobleness of soul illness, became gloomy, —and then he to appreciate his superiority. His excelescaped to solitude, and in verses, which lence is now acknowledged; but, even he hid from fear of wounding me, poured while admitted, not duly appreciated. For forth morbid but too natural bursts of dis- who, except those who were acquainted content and sadness. One looks back with with him, can imagine his unwearied beunspeakable regret and gnawing remorse nevolence, his generosity, his systematic to such periods; fancying that, had one forbearance? And still less is his vast been more alive to the nature of his feel- superiority in intellectual attainments suffiings, and more attentive to soothe them, ciently understood—his sagacity, his clear such would not have existed. And yet, understanding, his learning, his prodigious enjoying as he appeared to do every sight memory. All these, as displayed in conor influence of earth or sky, it was difficult versation, were known to few while he lived, to imagine that any melancholy he showed and are now silent in the tomb : was aught but the effect of the constant

"Ahi orbo mondo ingrato! pain to which he was a martyr.

Gran cagion hai di dover pianger meco, We lived in utter solitude. And such is Chè quel ben ch' era in te perdut' hai seco." often not the nurse of cheerfulness; for then, at least with those who have been exposed to adversity, the mind broods over its sorrows too intently ; while the society POEMS WRITTEN IN 1819 of the enlightened, the witty, and the wise, enables us to forget ourselves by making us LINES WRITTEN DURING THE the sharers of the thoughts of others, which CASTLEREAGH ADMINISTRA. is a portion of the philosophy of happiness.

TION Shelley never liked society in numbers,it harassed and wearied him ; but neither did he like loneliness, and usually, when alone, sheltered himself against memory

Corpses are cold in the tomb ; and reflection in a book. But, with one Stones on the pavement are dumb ; or two whom he loved, he gave way to

Abortions are dead in the womb,





And their mothers look pale-like the From the cradle to the grave, white shore

Those ungrateful drones who would Or Albion, free no more,

Drain your sweat — nay, drink your blood ?

111 Her sons are as stones in the way- Wherefore, Bees of England, forge They are masses of senseless clay

Many a weapon, chain, and scourge, They are trodden, and move not That these stingless drones may spoil away,

The forced produce of your toil ?
The abortion with which she travaileth
Is Liberty, smitten to death.

Have ye leisure, comfort, calm,
Then trample and dance, thou Op. Or what is

Shelter, food, love's gentle balm ?

ye buy so dear pressor !

With your pain and with your sear? For thy victim is no redresser ;

Thou art sole lord and possessor Of her corpses, and clods, and abortions The seed ye sow, another reaps ; --they pave

The wealth ye find, another keeps ; Thy path to the grave.

The robes ye weave, another wears ;

The arms ye forge, another bears. Hearest thou the festival din Of Death, and Destruction, and Sin, Sow seed, --but let no tyrant reap ;

And Wealth crying Havoc ! within ? 'Tis the bacchanal triumph which makes Weave robes, let not the idle wear ;

Find wealth,-let no impostor heap ;
Truth dumb,
Thine epithalamium.

Forge arms,-in your defence to bear.







Shrink to your cellars, holes, and cells; Ay, marry thy ghastly wife !

In halls ye deck another dwells. Let Fear and Disquiet and Strife Spread thy couch in the chamber of Why shake the chains ye wrought? Ye Life!

The steel ye tempered glance on ye. Marry Ruin, thou Tyrant ! and God be

thy guide
To the bed of the bride!

With plough and spa:le, and hoe and


Trace your grave, and build your tomb, ENGLAND

And weave your winding-sheet, till fair

England be your sepulchre.
Men of England, wherefore plough
For the lords who lay ye low?

SIMILES FOR TWO POLITICAL Wherefore weave with toil and care

CHARACTERS OF 1819 The rich robes your tyrants wear ?


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Wherefore seed, and clothe, and save,

As from an ancestral oak

Two empty ravens sound their clarion,

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possess, 1 Perhaps connected with that immediately preceding.--ED.

Wilder her enemies
In their own dark disguise,-

God save our Queen !
All earthly things that dare
Her sacred name to bear,
Strip them, as kings are, bare ;

God save the Queen !


AN ODE: TO THE ASSERTORS Be her eternal throne

Built in our hearts alone--
God save the Queen !

ARISE, arise, arise !

There is blood on the earth that Let the oppressor hold

denies ye bread; Canopied seats of gold ;

Be your wounds like eyes
She sits enthroned of old
O'er our hearts Queen.

To weep for the dead, the dead,

the dead. What other grief were it just to pay ? Your sons, your wives, your brethren,

were they ; Lips touched by seraphim Breathe out the choral hymn

Who said they were slain on the battle “ God save the Queen !”

day? Sweet as if angels sang,

Awaken, awaken, awaken! Loud as that trumpet's clang

The slave and the tyrant are twinWakening the world's dead gang,

born foes ;
God save the Queen !

Be the cold chains shaken
To the dust where your kindred

repose, repose : SONNET : ENGLAND IN 1819 Their bones in the grave will start and

move, An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying When they hear the voices of those they king,

love, Princes, the dregs of their dull race, Most loud in the holy combat above.

who flow Through public scorn, — mud from a Wave, Wave high the banner ! muddy spring

When Freedom is riding to Rulers who neither see, nor feel, nor

quest by : know,

Though the slaves that fan her But leech-like to their fainting country Be Famine and Toil, giving sigh cling,

for sigh. Till they drop, blind in blood, without And ye who attend her imperial car, a blow,

Lift not your hands in the banded war, A people starved and stabbed in the But in her defence whose children ye

untilled field, An army, which liberticide and prey Makes as a two-edged sword to all who Glory, glory, glory, wield

To those who have greatly suffered Golden and sanguine laws which tempt

and done! and slay ;

Never name in story Religion Christless, Godless - a book Was greater than that which


shall sealed ;

have won. A Senate, —Time's worst statute unre. Conquerors have conquered their foes pealed,

alone, Are graves, from which a glorious Whose revenge, pride, and power they Phantom may

have overthrown: Burst, to illumine our tempestuous day. Ride ye, more victorious, over your own.



Bind, bind every brow

Ind swift stars with flashing tresses ; With crownals of violet, ivy, and And icy moons most cold and bright, pine :

And mighty suns beyond the night, Hide the blood-stains now Atoms of intensest light. With hues which sweet nature has made divine :

Even thy name is as a god, Green strength, azure hope, and eter- Heaven ! for thou art the abode nity :

Of that power which is the glass
But let not the pansy among them be ; Wherein man his nature sees.
Ye were injured, and that

Generations as they pass

Worship thee with bended knees.

Their unremaining gods and they

Like a river roll away :

Thou remainest such alway.


Gather, O gather,
Foeman and friend in love and

peace !
Waves sleep together
When the blasts that called them to

battle, cease. For fangless Power grown tame and

mild Is at play with Freedom's fearless

child The dove and the serpent reconciled !

Second Spirit
Thou art but the mind's first chamber,
Round which its young fancies clamber,.

Like weak insects in a cave,
Lighted up by stalactites ;

But the portal of the grave,
Where a world of new delights

Will make thy best glories seem
But a dim and noonday gleam
From the shadow of a dream !



Thiri Spirit
Peace! the abyss is wreathed with scorn
At your presumption, atom-born !

What is heaven? and what are ye
Who its brief expanse inherit ?

What are suns and spheres which fee
With the instinct of that spirit

Of which ye are but a part ?
Drops which Nature's mighty heart
Drives through thinnest veins ! De-

part !

now, and

First Spirit
PALACE-ROOF of cloudless nights !
Paradise of golden lights !

Deep, immeasurable, vast,
Which art

which wert
of the present and the past,
Of the eternal where and when,

Presence-chamber, temple, home,
Ever-canopying dome,

Of acts and ages yet to come!
Glorious shapes have life in thee,
Earth, and all earth's company ;

Living globes which ever throng Thy deep chasms and wildernesses ;

And green worlds that glide along ;

What is heaven? a globe of dew,
Filling in the morning new
Some eyed flower whose young leaves

On an unimagined world :

Constellated suns unshaken,
Orbits measureless, are furled

In that frail and fading sphere,
With ten millions gathered there,
To tremble, gleam, and disappear.

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