O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, II Thou on whose stream, mid the steep sky's commotion, Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean, Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread Like the bright hair uplifted from the head Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge Of the dying year, to which this closing night Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh, hear! This poem was conceived and chiefly written in a wood that skirts the Arno, near Florence, and on a day when that tempestuous wind, whose temperature is at once mild and animating, was collecting the vapours which pour down the autumnal rains. They began, as I foresaw, at sunset with a violent tempest of hail and rain, attended by that magnificent thunder and lightning peculiar to the Cisalpine regions. The phenomenon alluded to at the conclusion of the third stanza is well known to naturalists. The vegetation at the bottom of the sea, of rivers, and of lakes, sympathizes with that of the land in the change of seasons, and is consequently influenced by the winds which announce it.SHELLEY'S NOTE.] ΤΟ 15 20 25 5 III Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear, IV If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear; A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share The impulse of thy strength, only less free 30 35 40 45 I were as in my boyhood, and could be The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven, As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed 50 Scarce seemed a vision; I would ne'er have striven As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need. I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed V Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind? 55 60 65 70 AN EXHORTATION [Published with Prometheus Unbound, 1820. Dated 'Pisa, April, 1820' in Harvard MS. (Woodberry), but assigned by Mrs. Shelley to 1819.] [Published, with the title, Song written for an Indian Air, in The Liberal, ii, 1822. Reprinted (Lines to an Indian Air) by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824. The poem is included in the Harvard MS. book, and there is a description by Robert Browning of an autograph copy presenting some variations from the text of 1824. See Leigh Hunt's Correspondence, ii, pp. 264-8.] As I must on thine, Oh, beloved as thou art! I I ARISE from dreams of thee Hath led me-who knows how? II The wandering airs they faint Like sweet thoughts in a dream; 5 10 III Oh lift me from the grass! 15 20 CANCELLED PASSAGE O PILLOW cold and wet with tears! Indian Serenade-3 Harvard MS. omits When. 1822. 4 shining] burning Harvard MS., 15 7 Hath led Browning MS., 1822; Has borne Harvard MS.; Has led 1824. 11 The Champak Harvard MS., 1822, 1824; And the Champak's Browning MS. As I must on 1822, 1824; As I must die on Harvard MS., 1839, 1st ed. beloved Browning MS., Harvard MS., 1839, 1st ed.; Beloved 1822, 1824. 16 Oh, 23 press it to thine own Browning MS.; press it close to thine Harvard MS., 1824, 1839, 1st ed.; press me to thine own, 1822. TO SOPHIA [MISS STACEY] I THOU art fair, and few are fairer Of the Nymphs of earth or ocean; Those soft limbs of thine, whose motion II Thy deep eyes, a double Planet, With soft clear fire,-the winds that fan it III If, whatever face thou paintest In those eyes, grows pale with pleasure, When it hears thy harp's wild measure, IV As dew beneath the wind of morning, As aught mute yet deeply shaken, TO WILLIAM SHELLEY [Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Works, 1824. The fragment included in the Harvard MS. book.] 5 ΤΟ 15 20 Where art thou, my gentle child? 10 With its life intense and mild, The love of living leaves and weeds Among these tombs and ruins wild;Let me think that through low seeds 15 Of sweet flowers and sunny grass MS.; I may 1824. 12 With Harvard MS., 16 Of sweet Harvard MS.; Of the sweet TO WILLIAM SHELLEY [Published by Mrs. Shelley, P. W., 1839, 1st ed.] THY little footsteps on the sands Of a remote and lonely shore; The twinkling of thine infant hands, Where now the worm will feed no more; TO MARY SHELLEY [Published by Mrs. Shelley, P. W., 1839, 2nd ed.] For thine own sake I cannot follow thee. TO MARY SHELLEY Where [Published by Mrs. Shelley, P. W., 1839, 2nd ed.] And I am weary Of wandering on without thee, Mary; A joy was erewhile In thy voice and thy smile, And 'tis gone, when I should be gone too, Mary. ON THE MEDUSA OF LEONARDO DA VINCI IN THE FLORENTINE GALLERY [Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824.] I Ir lieth, gazing on the midnight sky, II Yet it is less the horror than the grace Which turns the gazer's spirit into stone, On the Medusa.-5 seems 1839; seem 1824. 6 shine] shrine 1824, 1859. |