« PredošláPokračovať »
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 ?
Have ye leisure, comfort, calm,
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 ;
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
With plough and spa:le, and hoe and
loom, SONG TO THE MEN OF
Trace your grave, and build your tomb, ENGLAND
And weave your winding-sheet, till fair
England be your sepulchre.
SIMILES FOR TWO POLITICAL Wherefore weave with toil and care
CHARACTERS OF 1819 The rich robes your tyrants wear ?
Wherefore seed, and clothe, and save,
As from an ancestral oak
Two empty ravens sound their clarion,
possess, 1 Perhaps connected with that immediately preceding.--ED.
Wilder her enemies
God save our Queen !
God save the Queen !
AN ODE: TO THE ASSERTORS Be her eternal throne
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
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 ;
Be the cold chains shaken
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
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,
battle, cease. For fangless Power grown tame and
mild Is at play with Freedom's fearless
child The dove and the serpent reconciled !
Like weak insects in a cave,
But the portal of the grave,
Will make thy best glories seem
ODE TO HEAVEN
CHORUS OF SPIRITS
What is heaven? and what are ye
What are suns and spheres which fee
Of which ye are but a part ?
Deep, immeasurable, vast,
Presence-chamber, temple, home,
Of acts and ages yet to come!
Living globes which ever throng Thy deep chasms and wildernesses ;
And green worlds that glide along ;
What is heaven? a globe of dew,
Constellated suns unshaken,
In that frail and fading sphere,