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In what cavern of the night

Will thy pinions close now?


Tell me, moon, thou pale and gray
Pilgrim of heaven's homeless way,
In what depth of night or day

Seekest thou repose now?

Weary wind, who wanderest
Like the world's rejected guest,
Hast thou still some secret nest

On the tree or billow ?


YE hasten to the grave! What seek ye there,
Ye restless thoughts and busy purposes
Of the idlebrain, which the world's livery

O thou quick heart, which pantest to possess
All that pale expectation feigneth fair!
Thou vainly curious mind which wouldest guess

Sonnet. Published by Hunt, in The Literary Pocket-Book, 1824.

1 grave, Ollier MS. || dead, Harvard MS., Hunt, 1823.

5 pale Expectation, Ollier MS. || anticipation, Harvard MS., Hunt, 1823.

Whence thou didst come, and whither thou must go,
And all that never yet was known would know,
Oh, whither hasten ye, that thus ye press
With such swift feet life's green and pleasant path,
Seeking alike from happiness and woe
A refuge in the cavern of gray death ?
O heart, and mind, and thoughts! what thing do

Hope to inherit in the grave below?


ALAS! good friend, what profit can you see
In hating such a hateless thing as me?
There is no sport in hate when all the rage
Is on one side. In vain would you assuage
Your frowns upon an unresisting smile,
In which not even contempt lurks to beguile
Your heart by some faint sympathy of hate.
Oh, conquer what you cannot satiate !
For to your passion I am far more coy
Than ever yet was coldest maid or boy
In winter noon.


your antipathy If I am the Narcissus, you are free To pine into a sound with hating me. 7 must, Harvard MS., Hunt, 1823 || mayst, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.

8 all that . . . would, Harvard MS., Hunt, 1823 || that which, Mrs. Shelley, 1824, wouldst, Mrs. Shelley, 18391.

Lines to a Reviewer. Mrs. Shelley, 18391 || To Hunt, 1823; Sonnet. Mrs. Shelley, 1824. Published by Hunt, in The Literary Pocket-Book, 1823.


LIKE the ghost of a dear friend dead

Is Time long past.
A tone which is now forever fled,
A hope which is now forever past,
A love so sweet it could not last,

Was Time long past.


There were sweet dreams in the night

Of Time long past: And, was it sadness or delight, Each day a shadow onward cast Which made us wish it yet might last

That Time long past.


There is regret, almost remorse,

For Time long past.
'Tis like a child's beloved corse
A father watches, till at last
Beauty is like remembrance cast

From Time long past.
Time Long Past. Published by Rossetti, 1870.


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I “BUONA notte, buona notte! Come mai

La notte sarà buona senza te?
Non dirmi buona notte, chè tu sai,
La notte sà star buona da




Solinga, scura, cupa, senza speme,

La notte quando Lilla m'abbandona; Pei cuori chi si batton insieme

Ogni notte, senza dirla, sarà buona.

Come male buona notte si suona

Con sospiri e parole interrotte ! -
Il modo di aver la notte buona

E mai non di dir la buona notte.

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GOOD NIGHT? ah, no! the hour is ill

Which severs those it should unite;

Buona Notte. Published by Medwin in The Angler in Wales, 1834. The text follows Rossetti's version of the Boscombe MS.

Good-Night. Published by Hunt, The Literary Pocket-Book, 1822.

i.-iii. Harvard Ms. Mrs. Shelley, 1824.
i. 1 Good-night ? no, love! the night is ill, Stacey MS.

Let us remain together still,

Then it will be good night.


How can I call the lone night good,

Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight? Be it not said, thought, understood,

Then it will be good night.


To hearts which near each other move

From evening close to morning light, The night is good ; because, my love,

They never say good-night. ii. 1 How were the night without thee good, Stacey MS.

iii. 1 The hearts that on each other beat, Stacey MS., The, Harvard MS. cancelled.

ii. 3 Have nights as good as they are sweet, Stacey MS. iii. 4 They || But, Stacey MS.

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