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But my heart has a music which Echo's lips,
Though tender and true, yet can answer not, And the shadow that moves in the soul's eclipse Can return not the kiss by his now forgot; il
Sweet lips! he who hath
On my desolate path Cast the darkness of absence, worse than death! (The ENCHANTRESS makes her spell : she is
answered by a SPIRIT.)
SPIRIT. Within the silent centre of the earth My mansion is; where I have lived insphered From the beginning, and around my sleep Have woven all the wondrous imagery Of this dim spot, which mortals call the world; Infinite depths of unknown elements 20 Massed into one impenetrable mask; Sheets of immeasurable fire, and veins Of gold and stone, and adamantine iron. And as a veil in which I walk through Heaven I have wrought mountains, seas, and waves,
and clouds, And lastly light, whose interfusion dawns In the dark space of interstellar air.
[ANOTHER SCENE.] Indian Youth and LADY.
lines are divided from what follows them in Mrs. Shelley's editions by the statement that “a good Spirit, who watches over the Pirate's fate, leads, in a mysterious manner, the lady of his love to the Enchanted Isle. She is accompanied by a youth, who loves the lady, but whose passion she returns only with a sisterly affection.”-ED.
Than all the pleasures in the world beside,
I offer only That which I seek, some human sympathy In this mysterious island.
Oh! my friend, My sister, my beloved !-What do I say? My brain is dizzy, and I scarce know whether I speak to thee or her.
Peace, perturbed heart ! I am to thee only as thou to mine, The passing wind which heals the brow at noon, And may strike cold into the breast at night, Yet cannot linger where it soothes the most, Or long soothe could it linger.
But you said 40
You also loved ?
Loved! Oh, I love. Methinks This word of love is fit for all the world, And that for gentle hearts another name Would speak of gentler thoughts than the
world owns. I have loved.
And thou lovest not? if so, Young as thou art thou canst afford to weep.
LADY. Oh! would that I could claim exemption From all the bitterness of that sweet name. I loved, I love, and when I love no more Let joys and grief perish, and leave despair 50 To ring the knell of youth. He stood beside me, The embodied vision of the brightest dream, Which like a dawn heralds the day of life; The shadow of his presence made my world A paradise. All familiar things he touched, All common words he spoke, became to me Like forms and sounds of a diviner world. He was as is the sun in his fierce youth, As terrible and lovely as a tempest; He came, and went, and left me what I am. 60 Alas! Why must I think how oft we two Have sate together near the river-springs, Under the green pavilion which the willow Spreads on the floor of the unbroken fountain, Strewn by the nurslings that linger there? Over that islet paved with flowers and moss, While the musk-rose leaves, like flakes of
crimson snow, Showered on us, and the dove mourned in the
pine, Sad prophetess of sorrows not her own, The crane returned to her unfrozen haunt, 70 And the false cuckoo bade the Spring good
morn; And on a wintry bough the widowed bird, Hid in the deepest night of ivy-leaves, Renewed the vigils of a sleepless sorrow. I, left like her, and leaving one like her, Alike abandoned and abandoning (Oh! unlike her in this !) the gentlest youth, Whose love had made my sorrows dear to him, Even as my sorrow made his love to me!
God of heaven! From such an islet, such a river-spring. ...! I dare not ask her if there stood upon it 90 A pleasure-dome surmounted by a crescent, With steps to the blue water. (Aloud It
may be That Nature masks in life several copies Of the same lot, so that the sufferers May feel another's sorrow as their own, And find in friendship what they lost in love. That cannot be: yet it is strange that we, From the same scene, by the same path to this Realm of abandonment . . . But speak! your
breathYour breath is like soft music, your words are The echoes of a voice which on my heart 101 Sleeps like a melody of early days. I But as you said
1 This combination of words is sufficiently marked to be recorded as another reminiscence of Coleridge's Kubla Khan:
A lofty pleasure-dome withı caves of ide.-ED.
He was so awful, yet So beautiful in mystery and terror, Calming me as the loveliness of heaven Soothes the unquiet sea :---and yet not so, For he seemed stormy, and would often seem A quenchless sun masked in portentous clouds; For such his thoughts, and even his actions
Such a one 120
LADY. If I be sure I am not dreaming now, I should not doubt to say it was a dream. Methought a star came down from heaven, And rested ’mid the plants of India, Which I had given a shelter from the frost Within my chamber. There the meteor lay, 130