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III

I to the grave!” _“And if my love were dead,

There is regret, almost remorse, Unless my heart deceives me, I would lie

For Time long past. Beside him in my shroud as willingly

'Tis like a child's beloved corse As now in the gay night-dress Lilla

A father watches, till at last wrought.”

Beauty is like remembrance, cast “Fie, child ! Let that unseasonable

From Time long past.
thought
Not be remembered till it snows in
June;

FRAGMENT: THE DESERTS OF Such fancies are a music out of tune

SLEEP With the sweet dance your heart must keep to-night.

I went into the deserts of dim sleepWhat! would you take all beauty and

That world which, like an unknown delight

wilderness, Back to the Paradise from which you Bounds this with its recesses wide and

deep. sprung, And leave to grosser mortals ?And say, sweet lamb, would you not FRAGMENT: CONSEQUENCE learn the sweet

The viewless and invisible Consequence And subtle mystery by which spirits

Watches thy goings-out, and comings-in, meet ? Who knows whether the loving game is And : : . hovers o'er thy guilty sleep, played,

Unveiling every new-born deed, and When, once of mortal (vesture] dis

thoughts arrayed,

More ghastly than those deeds. The naked soul goes wandering here and there

FRAGMENT: A FACE Through the wide deserts of Elysian air ?

His face was like a snake's-wrinkled The violet dies not till it”.

and loose

And withered.
TIME LONG PAST

FRAGMENT: WEARINESS

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was,

FRAGMENT: “ALAS! THIS IS

NOTE ON POEMS OF 1820,

BY MRS. SHELLEY
NOT WHAT I THOUGHT
LIFE WAS.” 1

We spent the latter part of the year

1819 in Florence, where Shelley passed Alas! this is not what I thought life several hours daily in the Gallery, and

made various notes on its ancient works I knew that there were crimes and evil of art. His thoughts were a good deal men,

taken up also by the project of a steamMisery and hate; nor did I hope to boat, undertaken by a friend, an engineer, pass

to ply between Leghorn and Marseilles, Untouched by suffering, through the for which he supplied a sum of money. rugged glen.

This was a sort of plan to delight Shelley, In mine own heart I saw as in a glass

and he was greatly disappointed when it

was thrown aside. The hearts of others

And when

There was something in Florence that I went among my kind, with triple disagreed excessively with his health, and brass

he suffered far more pain than usual ; so Of calm endurance my weak breast I much so that we left it sooner than we armed,

intended, and removed to Pisa, where we To bear scorn, fear, and hate, a woful had some friends, and, above all, where mass !

we could consult the celebrated Vaccà as to the cause of Shelley's sufferings. He,

like every other medical man, could only FRAGMENT: MILTON'S SPIRIT guess at that, and gave little hope of

immediate relief ; he enjoined him to I DREAMED that Milton's spirit rose, abstain from all physicians and medicine, and took

and to leave his complaint to Nature. As From life's green tree his Uranian he had vainly consulted medical men of lute;

the highest repute in England, he was And from his touch sweet thunder flowed, easily persuaded to adopt this advice.

Pain and ill-health followed him to the and shook All human things built in contempt of with him better than any other, and there

end; but the residence at Pisa agreed man,

in consequence we remained. And sanguine thrones and impious altars

In the Spring we spent a week or two quaked,

near Leghorn, borrowing the house of Prisons and citadels.

some friends who were absent on a journey to England. It was on a beautiful sum

mer evening, while wandering among the FRAGMENT: UNRISEN

lanes whose myrtle-hedges were the bowers SPLENDOUR

of the fireflies, that we heard the carolling

of the skylark which inspired one of the UNRISEN splendour of the brightest sun, most beautiful of his poems. He adTo rise upon our darkness, if the star

dressed the letter to Mrs. Gisborne from Now beckoning thee out of thy misty this house, which was hers: he had made throne

his study of the workshop of her son, who Could thaw the clouds which wage an

was an engineer. Mrs. Gisborne had

been a friend of my father in her younger obscure war

days. She was a lady of great accomWith thy young brightness !

plishments, and charming from her frank

and affectionate nature. She had the i Perhaps in continuation of that immediately preceding, and so forming a sonnet.--- Eo. most intense love of knowledge, a delicate

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II

and trembling sensibility, and preserved putian ties that shackle at the time, alfreshness of mind after a life of consider though it is difficult to account afterwards able adversity. As a favourite friend of for their influence over our destiny. my father, we had sought her with eagerness; and the most open and cordial friendship was established between us.

POEMS WRITTEN IN 1821 Our stay

the

Baths of San Giuliano was shortened by an accident.

DIRGE FOR THE YEAR At the foot of our garden ran the canal that communicated between the Serchio and the Arno. The Serchio overflowed its banks, and, breaking its bounds, this ORPHAN hours, the year is dead, canal also overflowed; all this part of Come and sigh, come and weep! the country is below the level of its rivers, Merry hours, smile instead, and the consequence was that it was For the year is but asleep. speedily flooded.

The rising waters filled See, it smiles as it is sleeping, the Square of the Baths, in the lower part Mocking your untimely weeping. of which our house was situated. The canal overflowed in the garden behind; the rising waters on either side at last burst open the doors, and, meeting in the As an earthquake rocks a corse house, rose to the height of six feet. It

In its coffin in the clay, was a picturesque sight at night to see the So White Winter, that rough nurse, peasants driving the cattle from the plains Rocks the death-cold year to-day; below to the hills above the Baths. A Solemn hours ! wail aloud fire was kept up to guide them across the For your mother in her shroud. ford; and the forms of the men and the animals showed in dark relief against the red glare of the flame, which was reflected As the wild air stirs and sways again in the waters that filled the Square. We then removed to Pisa, and took up so the breath of these rude days

The tree-swung cradle of a child, our abode there for the winter. The extreme mildness of the climate suited

Rocks the year :- be calm and mild, Shelley, and his solitude was enlivened by Trembling hours, she will arise an intercourse with several intimate friends. With new love within her eyes. Chance cast us strangely enough on this

IV quiet half-unpeopled town; but its very peace suited Shelley. Its river, the near January gray is here, mountains, and not distant sea, added to Like a sexton by her grave; its attractions, and were the objects of February bears the bier, many delightful excursions. We feared the south of Italy, and a hotter climate, on And April weeps- but, O, ye hours,

March with grief doth howl and rave, account of our child; our former bereavement inspiring us with terror. We seemed

Follow with May's fairest flowers. to take root here, and moved little afterwards; often, indeed, entertaining projects

TO NIGHT for visiting other parts of Italy, but still delaying. But for our fears on account of our child, I believe we should have wandered over the world, both being

SWIFTLY walk over the western wave, passionately fond of travelling

But

Spirit of Night! human life, besides its great unalterable Out of the misty eastern cave, necessities, is ruled by a thousand lilli- Where all the long and lone daylight,

III

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Thy brother Death came, and cried, Vultures, who build your bowers Wouldst thou me?

High in the Future's towers, Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Withered hopes on hopes are spread, Murmured like a noontide bee,

Dying joys choked by the dead, Shall I nestle near thy side ?

Will serve your beaks for prey
Wouldst thou me?—And I replied,

Many a day.
No, not thee!

FROM THE ARABIC: AN

IMITATION Death will come when thou art dead,

Soon, too soonSleep will come when thou art fled; My faint spirit was sitting in the light Of neither would I ask the boon

Of thy looks, my love; I ask of thee, beloved Night

It panted for thee like the hind at noon Swift be thine approaching flight,

For the brooks, my love.
Come soon, soon!

Thy barb whose hoofs outspeed the

tempest's flight TIME

Bore thee far from me;

My heart, for my weak feet were UNFATHOMABLE Sea! whose waves

weary soon,
are years,

Did companion thee.
Ocean of Time, whose waters of

II deep woe Are brackish with the salt of human Ah! fleeter far than fleetest storm or tears!

steed,

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