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| AAKPEI AIOIX DIOTMON 'ADIOTXON Thorny breathe their spells towar is the Oh! THERE are spirits of the air, departir.g day,
,! And genii or the evening breeze, Encompassing the earth, air, stars, ar-1
| And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fair
As star-beams among twilight trees:Light, and, and motion own the
the Sach lovely ministers to meet pirnt sway,
Post hast thoa turned from men thy lonely Responding to the charm with its on
feet. mystery. The winds are still, or the dry church. With mountain winds, and babbling tow't grass
springs, Knows not their gentle morions as they And moonlight seas, that are the voice pass.
Of these inexplicable things
Thou didst hold commune, and rejoice Thou too, aerial Pile! whose pinnacles ! When they did answer thee; but they Point from one shrine like pyramids of Cast, like a worthless boon, thy love fire,
away. Olcyest in silence their sweet solemn spells,
And thou hast sought in starry eyes Clothing in hues of heaven thy dim and Beams that were never meant for distant spire,
thine, Around whose lessening and invisible Another's wealth :tame sacrifice height
To a fond faith! still dost thou pine ? Gather among the stars the clouds of Still dost thou hope that greeting hands, night.
Voice, looks, or lips, may answer thy
demands ? Thcdead are sleeping in their sepulchres : And, mouldering as they sleep, a thrill. Ah! wherefore didst thou build thine ing sound
hope Ilall sense, hall thought, among the On the false earth's inconstancy? darkness stirs,
Did thine own mind afford no scope Breathed from their wormy beds all Of love, or moving thoughts to thee? living things around,
| That natural scenes or human smiles And mingling with the still night and Could steal the power to wind thee in mute sky
their wiles. 11s awful hush is felt inaudibly.
| Yes, all the faithless smiles are fled Thus solemnised and softened, death is Whose falsehood left thee brokenmild
hearted; And terrorless as this serenest night: The glory of the moon is dead: Ilere could I hope, like some inquiring Night's ghosts and dreams have now child
departed; Sporting on graves, that death did hide | Thine own soul still is true to thee, from human sight
But changed to a soul fiend through Sweet secrets, or beside its breathless
misery. sleep That loveliest dreams perpetual watch | This fiend, whose ghastly presence ever did keep
| Beside thee like thy shadow hangs,
Dream not to chase ;—the mad ençlea. For this I prayed, would on thy sleep vour
have crept, Would scourge thee to severer pangs. | Treason and Slavery, Rapine, Fear, and Be as thou art. Thy settled fate,
Lust, Dark as it is, all change would aggravate. And stifled thee, their minister. I know
Too late, since thou and France are in TO WORDSWORTH
That virtue owns a more eternal foe Poet of Nature, thou hast wept to know
Than force or fraud : old Custom, legal That things depart which never may Crime, return:
And bloody Faith the soulest birth of Childhood and youth, friendship and
time. love's first glow, Have fled like sweet dreams, leaving
LINES thee to mourn. These common woes I feel. One loss is mine
The cold earth slept below, Which thou too feel’st, yet I alone Above the cold sky shone; deplore.
And all around, with a chilling sound, Thou wert as a lone star, whose light From caves of ice and fields of snow, did shine
The breath of night like death did On some frail bark in winter's midnight flow roar:
Beneath the sinking moon. Thou hast like to a rock-built refuge
stood Above the blind and battling multitude: The wintry hedge was black, In honoured poverty thy voice did weave The green grass was not seen, Songs consecrate to truth and liberty, The birds did rest on the bare thorn's Deserting these, thou leavest me to
Whose roots, beside the pathway track, Thus having been, that thou shouldst had bound their folds o'er many a cease to be.
Which the frost had made between. FEELINGS OF A REPUBLICAN
INI ON THE FALL OF BONAPARTE
Thine eyes glowed in the glare I hated thee, fallen tyrant! I did Of the moon's dying light; groan
As a fenfire's beam on a sluggish stream, To think that a most unambitious slave, Gleams dimly, so the moon shone Like thou, shouldst dance and revel on
there, the grave
And it yellowed the strings of thy of Liberty. Thou mightst have built raven hair, thy throne
That shook in the wind of night. Where it had stood even now: thou
didst prefer A frail and bloody pomp which time has The moon made thy lips pale, be swept
loved In fragments towards oblivion. Mas. The wind made thy bosom chillsacre,
| The night did shed on thy dear head
Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie recovered from a severe pulmonary attack ; Where the bitter breath of the naked the weather was warm and pleasant He sky
lived near Windsor Forest ; and his life Might visit thee at will.
was spent under its shades or on the water,
meditating subjects for verse. Hitherto, NOTE ON THE EARLY POEMS. BY he had chiefly aimed at extending his
political doctrines, and attempted MRS. SHELLEY
to do by appeals in prose essays to the The remainder of Shelley's Poems will be people, exhorting them to claim their arranged in the order in which they were rights; but he had now begun to feel that written. Of course, mistakes will occur the time for action was not ripe in England, in placing some of the shorter ones; for, and that the pen was the only instrument as I have said, many of these were thrown wherewith to prepare the way for better aside, and I never saw them till I had the things. misery of looking over his writings after In the scanty journals kept during those the hand that traced them was dust ; and years I find a record of the books that some were in the hands of others, and I Shelley read during several years. During never saw them till now. The subjects the years of 1814 and 1815 the list is of the poems are often to me an unerring extensive. It includes, in Greek, Homer, guide ; but on other occasions I can only Hesiod, Theocritus, the histories of guess, by finding them in the pages of | Thucydides and Herodotus, and Diogenes the same ma
that contains Laertius. In Latin, Petronius, Suetonius, poems with the date of whose composition some of the works of Cicero, a large proI am fully conversant. In the present portion of those of Seneca and Livy. In arrangement all his poetical translations English, Milton's Poems, Wordsworth's will be placed together at the end.
Excursion, Southey's Madoc and Thalaba, The loss of his early papers prevents my Locke On the Human Understanding. being able to give any of the poetry of his Bacon's Novum Organum. In Italian, boyhood. Of the few I give as Early Ariosto, Tasso, and Alfieri. In French, Poems, the greater part were published the Rheries d'un Solitaire of Rousseau, with Alastor; some of them were written To these may be added several modern previously, some at the same period. The books of travels. He read few novels. poem beginning “Oh, there are spirits in the air " was addressed in idea to Cole
POEMS WRITTEN IN 1816 ridge, whom he never knew; and at whose character he could only guess
THE SUNSET imperfectly, through his writings, and accounts he heard of him from some who
ome who There late was One within whose knew him well. He regarded his change
subtle being, of opinions as rather an act of will than As light and wind within some delicate conviction, and believed that in his inner
cloud heart he would be haunted by what Shelley That fades amid the blue noon's burning considered the better and holier aspira.
sky, tions of his youth. The summer evening
| Genius and death contended. None that suggested to him the poem written
may know in the churchyard of Lechlade occurred
ed | The sweetness of the joy which made during his voyage up the Thames in 1815
his breath He had been advised by a physician to
Fail, like the trances of the summer air, live as much as possible in the open air ;
When, with the Lady of his love, who and a fortnight of a bright warm July was spent in tracing the Thames to its source.
then He never spent a season more tranquilly | First knew the unreserve of mingled than the summer of 1815. He had just
He walked along the pathway of a field Her eyes were black and lustreless and Which to the east a hoar wood shadowed
| Her eyelashes were worn away with But to the west was open to the sky There now the sun had sunk, but lines Her lips and cheeks were like things of gold
dead-so pale; Hung on the ashen clouds, and on the Her hands were thin, and through their points
wandering veins Of the far level grass and nodding flowers And weak articulations might be seen And the old dandelion's hoary beard, Day's ruddy light. The tomb of thy And, mingled with the shades of twi- dead self light, lay
Which one vexed ghost inhabits, night On the brown massy woods—and in the and day, east
Is all, lost child, that now remains of The broad and burning moon lingeringly thee !
rose Between the black trunks of the crowded “Inheritor of more than earth can trees,
give, While the faint stars were gathering Passionless calm and silence unreproved, overhead.
| Whether the dead find, oh, not sleep! “ Is it not strange, Isabel,” said the
And are the uncomplaining things they “ I never saw the sun? We will walk seem, here
Or live, or drop in the deep sea of To-morrow; thou shalt look on it with
Oh, that like thine, mine epitaph were
- Peace!" That night the youth and lady mingled | This was the only moan she ever made.
lay In love and sleep—but when the morn HYMN TO INTELLECTUAL ing came
BEAUTY The lady found her lover dead and cold. Let none believe that God in mercy gave That stroke. The lady died not, nor The awful shadow of some unseen grew wild,
Power But year by year lived on--in truth 1 Floats tho' unseen amongst us,think
visiting Her gentleness and patience and sad! This various world with as inconstant smiles,
wing And that she did not die, but lived to As summer winds that creep from flower tend
to flower,Her agèd father, were a kind of mad. Like moonbeams that behind some piny ness,
mountain shower, If madness 'tis to be unlike the world. It visits with inconstant glance For but to see her were to read the tale Each human heart and countenWoven by some subtlest bard, to make
ance; hard hearts
Like hues and harmonies of evening, Dissolve away in wisdom - working Like clouds in starlight widely grief;-
Like memory of music fled,
And come, for some uncertain Like aught that for its grace may be moments lent, Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery. Man were immortal, and omnipotent,
Didst thou, unknown and awsul as thou
art, Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate | Keep with thy glorious train firm state With thine own hues all thou dost
within his heart. shine upon
Thou messenger of sympathies, or human thought or form,- where That wax and wane in lovers' eyesart thou gone?
Thou — that to human thought art Why dost thou pass away and leave our
Like darkness to a dying flame! This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and
Depart not as thy shadow came, desolate?
Depart not--lest the grave should be,
v Why aught should fail and fade that while yet a boy I sought for ghosts, and once is shown,
sped Why fear and dream and death and Thro' many a listening chamber, birth
cave and ruin, Cast on the daylight of this earth And starlight wood, with searsul steps Such gloom,—why man has such a pursuing scope
Hopes of high talk with the departed For love and hate, despondency and dead. hope ?
I called on poisonous names with which III
our youth is fed ; No voice from some sublimer world hath
I was not heard—I saw them not
When musing deeply on the lot ever Tosage or poet these responses given
seresponses viven_ of life, at the sweet time when winds Therefore the names of Demon,
are wooing Ghost, and Heaven,
All vital things that wake to bring Remain the records of their vain endea
News of birds and blossoming,vour,
Sudden, thy shadow fell on me; Frail spells-whose uttered charm might I shrieked, and clasped my hands in not avail to sever,
ecstasy! From all we hear and all we see,
Doubt, chance, and mutability. I vowed that I would dedicate my Thy light alone-like mist o'er moun
powers tains driven,
To thee and thine- have I not kept Or music by the night wind sent,
the vow? Thro’ strings of some still instru. With beating heart and streaming ment,
eyes, even now Or moonlight on a midnight stream, I call the phantoms of a thousand hours Gives grace and truth to life's unquiet Each from his voiceless grave : they dream.
have in visioned bowers
Or studious zeal or love's delight Love, Hope, and Self-esteem, like clouds Outwatched with me the envious depart