CIHM
Microfiche
Series
(Monographs)
ICMH
Collection de
microfiches
(monographies)
Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions ,' Institut canadien de mtcroreproductions historiques
(6)1C)QC)
Tc .•n:r:-i and Bibliographic Notes / Notes techniques et bibliographiques
The ln<;'ii'j '■■''■ a..' ■np'i°d to obtain the best original
copy :.'■■' ;u- - '• . \'~g. Features of this copy which
may he L.ibiiogra^.;. ^' / unique, which may alter any of
the ini£.yes i:: tne reproduction, or which may
significantly change the usual method of filming are
checked below.
n
□
□
Coloured covers /
Couverture de couleur
j j Covers damaged /
I 1 Couverture endommagee
□ Covers restored and/or laminated /
Couverture restauree et/ou peliiculee
I Cover title missing / Le titre de couverture manque
I I Coloured maps / Cartes g^ographiques en couleur
□ Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black) /
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)
I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations /
□
Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur
Bound with other material /
Relie avec d'autres documents
Only edition available/
Seule edition disponible
Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along
interior margin / La reliure serree peut causer de
I'ombre ou de la distorsion le long de la marge
interieure.
Blank leaves added during restorations may appear
within the text. Whenever possible, these have been
omitted from filming / II se peut que certaines pages
blanches ajoutees lors d'une restauration
apparaissent dans le texte, mais, lorsque cela etait
possible, ces pages n'ont pas ete filmees.
Additional comments / Various payings.
Commentaires supplementaires:
L'Institut a microfilme le meilleur exemplaire qu'il lui a
ete possible de se procurer. Les details de cet exem-
plaire qui sont peut-etre uniques du point de vue bibli-
ographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite,
ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la metho-
de normale de filmage sont indiques ci-dessous.
Coloured pages / Pages de couleur
Pages damaged / Pages endommag^es
□
□
I I Quality of print varies /
D
D
D
Pages restored and/or laminated /
Pages restaurees et/ou pelliculees
Pages discoloured, stained or foxed /
Pages decolorees, tachetees ou piquees
Pages detached / Pages detachees
Showthrough / Transparence
Quality inegale de i'impression
Includes supplementary material /
Comprend du matenel supplementaire
Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips,
tissues, etc., have been refilmed to ensure the best
possible image / Les pages totalement ou
partiellement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une
pelure, etc., ont ete filmees a nouveau de fafon a
obtenir la meilleure image possible.
Opposing pages with varying colouration or
discolourations are filmed twice to ensure the best
possible image / Les pages s'opposant ayant des
colorations variables ou des decolorations sont
filmees deux fois afin d'obtenir la meilleure image
possible.
This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below /
Ce document est fllme au taux de reduction indique ci-dessous.
10.
1i?X
4 n..
: ex
22x
25x
30x
12x
16x
20x
24x
28x
32x
The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks
to the generosity of:
Stduf ter I ibrary
Queen's University
The images appearing here are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in keeping with the
filming contract specifications.
L'exemplaire filmA fut reproduit grace i la
gAnArositA de:
Stauffer Library
Queen's University
Les images suivantes ont AtA reprodures avec le
plus grand soin. compta tenu de la condition et
de la nattetA de l'exemplaire film^. et en
conformity avec las conditions du contrat da
filmaga.
Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending on
the last page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, or the back cover when appropriate All
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
fir»t page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated impression.
Les exer** plaires originaux dont la couverture en
papier "^t imprim^e sont filmis en commencant
par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la
derniAre page qui comporta une empremte
d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second
plat, salon le cas. Tous les autres exemplairas
originaux sont filmAs en commencant par la
premiere page qui comporte une empremte
d'impression ou d'illustration at en terminant par
la derniAre page qui comporte une telle
empreinta.
The last recorded frame on each microf'cho
shall contain the symbol — ^ (meaning 'CON-
TINUED "I, or the symbol V (meaning "END"),
whichever applies.
Maps, plates, charts, etc.. may be filmed at
different reduction ratios. Those too large to be
entiraly included in one exposure are filmed
beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to
right and top to bottom, as many frames as
required. The following diagrams illustrate the
method:
Un des symboles suivants appara?tra sur la
derniAre image de chaque microfiche, selon le
cas: le symbole ^^ signifie "A SUIVRE ', le
symbole V signifie "FIN '.
Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc.. peuvent etre
filmAs d des taux de reduction diff^rents.
Lorsque le document est trop grand pour etre
reproduit en un saul clich6, il est film6 ^ partir
de Tangle supArieur gauche, de gauche A droite
et de haut en bas. en prenant le nombre
d'images nAcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants
illustrent la mAthode.
1
2
3
1 2 3
4 5 6
MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART
ANSI and ISO IFST CHART No 2
1.0
I.I
1.25
IIIIIM
■ 4.0
1.4
||||Z5
[|Z2
2.0
1.8
1.6
^ APPLIED I^VIG E
S^. 1653 Eas' Mam "Street
r^H f'ochester. New York 14609 u-
^= (715) ^82 - 0300 - Phone
— ^7161 ?88 - ^989 - Fa»
r
V¥A\
Gl
^x
IKivcrcibc tToffrgc (TfaceifiJ
SELECTED POEMS OF
rEllCY BYSSIIE SHELLEY
KDITKU WITH IN lllODL CTION
AND NUTES
15V
GEORGE HERBERT CLARKE, M.A.
I'rojeasor of Kugluh in the VniversHy oj the South
•1
I'll
HOUr.HTOX MIFFLIN COMPANY
BOSTtJN NEW YOUK CHICAGO SAN FUANCISCO
CurT«Hilll, '- ,, 1^ lliil'<.ll liO', MIliriN ,\M' ( u\l>'A.'*V
ALL Krc.ri 1 , III SI Kvtu
iCI)r iRilursibe i}rt<«
CAM 111. I 1)1.1! . MASSAC IIU-^HTTS
ruiNiri) IN 'I llli U.S. A
o
h:.
Zii m i*''^ti)ci
IS
h
i
;?,>:;■■.
i
\
>•„„„.■ .'Ml •'"""1" , ^^ .,^ ,,|„„„t,.v.ry shv
(-'"■■" "'" ''"""■' ;;",2"„v 1..-1...-S i.i";;-ci'.v
"' "■'■ """' " " „ ,.1 -l.. .ll-v ..«>'■'-' ""■"-
„ftl..-| '■-"'"'""" ,,,,v,.,n.-.l.l -,iu
tio.a.l iM .1..- l',n.U..S.^n'l'>- ■ „, „.,,i„uuu
-' ""'■ ^""'" , : ; ; ,„.,■. I- '"-»>■ >"■•'-
g„^i.. ,"""-'l'>'.- '•",.„,„., ,,,„,„U „s vitally a. w.
itself tattsltt ." ""■■1":-'"' ■,.,;,,, „,,,,aratns. Is
vvunW liU>'- ''''^V'" '".'". ,., ,, i, Ivranso a V"«'"-
H ,,..aus,. w. -|- 2,;;:;;,, ,,„(,,, u yi.i.i-t--""-
like aiH"VMH»,i"^>^^"
fulenoe ?
Macon, (.koiu.ia. .^
G. II. 0.
^
*.•■;:
'-V *
CONTKNi:
Isriti>i>i ' 111
11,.. l.ilV ..f Mi'll.y
Ml. 11. \ as
I'n.'t
lllf.l.ltM.ll.MllV
Uii
Ixix
V IV
S\.\S/ \'
AlMtll
l^U
1 o ('nl.l Hll'i.l-.
'I'n \Vi)|il>tW<'i:Tn • • • '
,,,,.,•• Tin ,,„,,. KA.nn.i..r.nK..ow ) ■ •
TliK SlN-IT • • • ■ ■
yy MoM' r.i.^'"'' •••■■'
•I',, (•„N.l...>rlA. SiNC.lMi .••••■
J S.NMl- O/.YMAM.IAH . ■ • • " '
r:;;:^.~rTTirFnMr^. ... a.» --.c kv«u, .■.....» >
l,lM.-i Til A Cull.'' ■
rAS^A.lK ..K 1". Al-l.NMN''-'^
ON A FA1...1. Vlol.V.l' .••■■■
^ L.S, S W.<.r.KN AMONO THK Kc-.AN..AN Ih.XS
^ S,-,./As W.nrr..N .s 1)k..:.ti..N, nkau Na.-.k.
Links to an In.)1an Aik • • • ' *
i,()vi-."s riiM.osoi'iiv ■ • • ■ *
S.v.i-'roTMK Mkn okKnolanh . . •
Kn'i.an.) in 1^1'' •••■■'
I'li.iMl >I1KI S UnIUHND ..•••'
Til. W..i:i.n's Wandeueks • • • •
Tin. Wamn'i Moon ••••"'
To nil Mdon
Cidou-Nic.HT .•••'■
l>
rt
11
ir>
17
1«
IH
10
19
20
31
33
31
34
:«;
■M
. 40
147
. U7
147
. 148
vin
COX TEN T>
Sl)N(l ("IlAltri.Y, ItAllI-I.V, lOMKST THOI"
•(•■1
•1,\|{ IllV K
■ilS, <iF.NTl.K. MAIPKN
)F I'ltOSllil'l-NK
To-
S<>N(
Afii MN : A I'lKiM';
'I'm; <^M I >i inN .
H VMS UK Ari'i 1.(1
IIV.MN HI I'AN
Aki Tin SA
c 'I'm- ('i.i)Li)
To A MiYl.AUK
Odk to Liiu kty
^ The SKNsiTiVK 1'i.ant ....
DiudK KQii Tin. Vi.au
To Ni(iHT
.SOMNKT TO KyKhN
Links i"Fak. \i! away. ye'")
To Emilia Viviam
To (■■MlSir, WUKN 80FT VOICES die")
To (■ On "ohd is too get n i-KOEANEn") .
To (-When passion's tuanie is oveui'ast"
Bridal Sono
Ml'TATilLlTY
Sonnet— PoEiTicAi. GuEATNEss . . . .
To-MouKO\v
A Lament (" O Woui.n! O Life ! O Time ! ")
A Lament ("Swiftku fau than semmek's elk;
^ Aih)Nais
■^ A Hikoe (" Knrc.H wind, that moanest i.orn''
F-I'ITAPH
Lines ("When the i.ami- is shattehed")
j.;,,>,Tj — From "Chahees the Fihst" .
To Jane — The Invitation ....
To Jane — The Recoi.eection
"With a Oiitau, To Jane
Notes
ht")
) .
148
mo
\r,i
ir.2
1.-.:?
1.-.4
l.T.
1.-.8
1"
1S7
1«8
1S!»
UK)
T.M)
r.ti
I'.U
I'.fi
103
. I!t3
1<14
. 1<).-.
l!i,->
. v.r.
lit"
. '.'IH
•J1J<
. 21H
•Jl'.>
. 'J'JD
OO')
225
220
H
\i
FIELD PLACE
INTRODUCTION
TIIK LIFK OF SHELLEY
P:vkry life is a symbol as well as a history, — a symbol,
1„m1ui))s i. were truer to say. because it is a history. Tlie lite
of Slielley as a man, exceptional as it appears, is at one witli
tlie ironius of Shelley as a poet, — it was impul>ive; i^enor-
ously ardent ; tilled witli tlie scorn of scorn, tl..- h.ve of love ;
ea^'er and anxi.ms to establish universal justice, freedom,
andhap])iness; but pursuing too characteristically the d.-
humanized method of importing goodness into men rather
than that of winning men into goodness. The curse of his
life moved from the tense yet dark mood of Paracelsus,
exultant in denial and challenge, to the high affirmations o!
Aprile, —
»i _ . tlie over-radiant atar too mad
To drinlt tlie Ufe-spriiiss."
Had he lived, it is hardly possible that he would have failed
to become at last
« ^ . . . a third
And butter-tempered spirit, warned by both."
On the fourth day ..f August, 179L>, their first child was
born to Timothy and Elizabeth Shelley, at Field Place, near
Horsham. Sussex. He was called Percy, because that was
a favourite name in the Shelley family, ancient m Sussex ;
an.l Hysshe, because that was the name of his paternal
gran.lfather. a handsome, wealthy, and positive old gentle-
man, eventuallv made a baronet, who had been twu-e
marrie.l, fust to Miss Mary Catherine Michell. a Sussex
heiress, who ilied after eight years of union, at the age of
twenty-six; and again to Miss Elizabeth Jane Sidney,
III
tf
II
',» hi.
ilt-
P,,,,,.u.i,..n-"^;; ;;*;';;;';,:;: ;,,,,: uu„
,.„■ iM.|>.-t.i..ns >"■'■>■ ; , ,,i, „,„ •n„«.Ui,v...uo
r;:::j;;;:'^';;;::;:::--^--''"' -'
faiiiily. , ^ En "-li slim an of
Ti,n...l>y S!„.l!,-y «» a «"";'■'";■' ",'■' „,.l„,i,,„,l i„
ll,„ ,1m,.,, tl.a. " »-- >"■"'"■'""' lc.ll,.«s ,...rl.„;«
.,,.n,e..s,„-,,..i,-.u:,i....,."n,,,.y .-i.-^ > ^^^
„,.„.,. „„„.. ,.t i, ..■..." 1,- ; " ■ ,,,„^.,,, ,,„„
.,,..,,„, y.,..,„K., .,( l-..ri,^,--" ■ " •" ',,' ,H .. . Willi,,.'
*-i-.-i-i-s-. Y":::t:::^\^^''-^-^'^-^-
uuwne.l Ml- l-.....it'ti ' . ^ ^,^1 ,n,u-iuus wonKin.
.on.evvl.at unfcnnnme y.t '^^^'^ "^ 7_\^^.^ ^ , Pev.y
Shel.ec:unetlKMno,herois.ven.Onliu.uJ-o .^
ti-^'>'^^-^^''-''*;'^,^::;r'V av.ntun,usan<W..ll-
favouvea l.votlu-v was aaore. l.> ^^'l j,, ^^^ sorts
a,.i„, his stay at hon.e - n>l owel , U- ^^^ ^^^^
jrvouml for the most uu-mu^ 1- ,t. f„„a. toojiko
Wsshetolnsaw.a<-ou.i.uaons R-^^^^^^
other i,nas,ri..al.ve ^-^'^^'^^'r' \'^' I "^a . leaah." lunt,
shadowy situations in whuih. WP^^^^^^
o.a,ain.he...niaaeta.a. uns^ h. .aU ^.^^^^
;a,.,nt ah>ne in tlx" moonhi^ht. saxt
^'•11''-''^ •''^'■'•^•^r, t ' trr infnn..V ana hovhoouhaa
Alu., MX s...auaea y.a.s a ' ■'" [ Ka^aras.of
1 I'v ^h.. hecamu a puiul of tin- VU'\. ->i>- '-""
passed. l..\>^t" "^''^'"^ ,1 I,, ',M...i„u.'snr.-efainirvcurs
the village ot Wavnhan., uaiu uj. .=•• • -
IXTIiODi'CTloy
XI
he spent chieflv in study in, Latin and a.v. .,.,n, Ins st,e^ ,.
Si.uH.nM.Acaa.nn.I>l..wovtl.n,.arln.M,to.a lu. c
,„„,Hl lun,.lf on., oi sunn, six.y ,um..1^. vnU.l 1 • !> •
,,,.„^.,.,,,,..,, vigorous ..MS..u,..!.,l,vn... u n .s u.tcs.-i
I)...a<.K-M.l..l.n..:uunnu..ldu.ad.ai.Uuotnnkn.y . .^
With ■^p.-tarles pnslu.a l/.ul. hIm.vc. In. .la.k an., i.u^l > c.y
Ws' WaonnLw.nM.,innda,.Ml. la..an -^^^
K ; 1 dips into Ids nudl ot S....t-h snutl l'> V'' "';• V'
I \v-u- and t.-av uf tlu- ..lass-n.on.. ' Sludlcy .
;^rM:pve^ntanin.itatin,lynKU.Ueddevna.o,...^
no. n. and tlu-v s..on f..Mn.l that tins was t.m- als,> ot h.s n.an
Is advent. a.n.nlin,ly,,. rovokod_n,u.ln.ss.pe,s..u-
L oven, the nH.re readily that the fa,,.n, systeu. eove.ed
t udeofpettvtvvannies.Th.nu.sMed.nKa^^^
h;t,.,.e..o^i>;.lley..ho.as.d..apnpd=a^
1 M I,nn -.^ -a strai-r.. and nnsi.cial l)euv.> 1 lun.u
tnt: :;:i.hi^isvi:ionsandnna,inin.s.he,aveo.dy
^nvained attention, o either his .■ho,.hnateso.. ins, a^s
; .advaneedsteadnyinleandn,.and.ast,ansevn.d.
,.„..n.t for he seems Uk-w. 1" Lave l,ee„ m.al oo».lm„
M '. . «.ve fu,- . si„,l.. tri 1 ; ve. a. Kt„„ 1..S s.,„a„..
;, ,. aiv h„,,r„ve,l. Tho,,,!, l.e f,.un,l ..ore ne..,ls ..1
and pnpds. and lu ua> (;„,.dall. the
dnllv apathetic to the mere h..ddv pain.
' f... .1 n.an of solid worth, was seeonded u. the
L:;wr^t.;;i> ;^.. Ke.te. powertm .i,h hooU ..d Urreh
.Uke Shelley entered the Fourth For.a under Keate « juu.
m
• 1 1 r,.- t with :i Mr. Ilfxton as lils Uitov -A
t;'-;:vil":- ::■;:•":"-^-"
s;,u:: ::.^i.■•^'i^,.
; S lilV.-t was ho to the ex..l...nu.n,. .^ h-s h.e
',,. 1 t..U„.. au.l so liercelv vos.ntful. n.,t <.f physu^al
,,,„., ,„„ .,t i,.-,,Mi.-.. an.l the s,>,nt ..f <-vn..t> tha the an o
•• Mul ^!u-llev." an.l was hait.'.l t.nu- attt-i
to hu known a> -Ma. I ^i" n^^- tniincnt-
ti„H. tor their an.nsenu.nt hy a rr-'w ..f thoni^htU^^s t.nn.c.t
rWl.v-lu..l to the lin.it onus patience, says one. h.
11 -tlnsh like a ti.-er-s, his cheeks -row pale as
r:;;; i:I: .nt.--Snehhoysashe.li.latt.n...l.w.
' l!^tl ,lHew hut :>ne llalli.lay appear to have IKU
anin.ine,ivennaerstanain,oflnn.-h.veainn.to h^
.00.1. aV,.,u't Kton, p.nnino- out his y..un, sonl in htB
and \M>.'.i« , \i ■ ,,,„ *> Up eertamlv was not
and starts of h.>pe an.l en hnsu.sn . »« -; ^^^ J.. ^ ,,^. ,,„
l.appy at Eton.- wrote Ins tnen. n '^y^l^,,
was a. lisi)..sitl..n that nee.lea especial ptiso.iai i
:;:Laow^.tc,. ana cherish ana airect all his no h.as^^^^
ana the rennukahU' tenaerness ot h-s heart He had , c
\ . 1 i.'n'>',\ n.)lhin.^ hut what was hase an.l
^ moral courage, and leaie.l nouun„
t-A.o an.l low" From the same source we leain that Ins
irwlre'chiia-splaytohin..'- He nn.vea thn.n.h tl.
t la .MuaWnn. whh ease, ana ch..>e to aaa to Ins sclu.ol
I ,he ..utsiae v..ain, ..f >u..h .aass.cal autlnn. as L -
LanaPHny.withlM.:n,Min. (;onaorcet..,ap.H. -
,,,.<, .a.in- his future father-iu-h.w-.nlns_/./.^/
. jL:: His r-i..a..'a inter..st in science to. ,n..reaM^
, , „ t .. f,.w risks— hntli phv-^ical an.l nia.^iMtiial
^ :;;r::;i;";: :...-.i • -'---v.!;:;;::
c,.,.i,,.,.-. .nni.nal kinship with Shak..spe:uv s Ar.M. .;ieatnre
of" air" and lire. C^erlainly, the youn^ Klo.aan cuuia i.avc
/vT/i'o/)rr'77o.v
XUl
, , ,. J-,., i.«- ■"'■ ■■''-;•'-;:::■;;:::.
'"■'■'■'■"";■ ' ';,.; 1..1 .V ,i„. u„v-s ,:,..»■,* n.-
A,:,, i„.„.i.,- .j> '•■ :" i^™ '7'
r:;::r;:t^r::::;:'::wt::;:i::;::-i^^
I 'it '• -'• ['»">• "■ ~'ii:;;;2LiI^"-
he writes : —
'.I,l„r..n...„lM.ru..ll.h..l>ourwlm-l, l,.n^t
Mvs.infssl...,,, Ai-,v,hMav-.huvuU.-,as.
\Vi, .;. I NVH'ik.Ml fo.tl. u|.>... the -lutrrn.- t;'"i='=S.
A,„lu..,.,IU.-vno,.hv:,u,nl.!u.n.r..e
FnMu.lH.n.ars..l.onlnH,M. vnun.stl.ut.aU..
Tho luusl. an.l ,ra.iu;, snitV. ot tyrants u,ul ..f f<H 3.
.And then lc.l.sp..,l,nvlK.nasan,llook,.,lan.u,.^
,.„,,„„„ .as ,..ar,o„„u.k,uvs,n.anuu,..-s
> Sl.,.n,.v. as f..na.t,.o. of sailing, uin.atu,.e,al- boat. rf. /:.sa-
;/,„/„.,/ i7./M,, 11. Isl-lsL
XIV
i.\T!:(H>r('Ti()y
So. ^^itl.oMl .li:il,l,.. I M.nk-: "I «ill 1m' "ISc-,
A,„l li.^i .11.1 Ir. ■•. .Hi.l Miil.l. it In Mi.' li.s
Sufli puu..-. I.. I I :^i"» w.ai-y in i„-l.ol.l
Til.' -.Ifi'.li ana I In' stniiii;- slill l\ niimi/..'
WmI ,.,M„;n'hor..ln...k.- I tin n mn, ■ nll,.,l ^_
Ms t.:i.^. n,> h.MM ^;n.w .hIh.. an,l 1 u:.s nn . k .unl bnl.l.
If in tlir ti.M nionu lit ShrlK-v frit liis .•..nscirnc- .,uirken.'.l
aiuM.Mliral.Ml 1.. tlu.rau^ouf liluTtv. so in tlu- M.run.l Ins
i, „,,„;,„, i,.„ sou-lit .Irlivcnnu'.' from tlu- l.o,ul;.-c" -t tl..-
,„^,,,.lv iH.niia,' :nnl >iui>UT,an.l l.e-U" i"«'t':ul to M-rk lu.io
h..au.v uii.l l.u.Mic it. -n.i^ ...oim-nt. too. he ha.* 11x0.1 ior
us in hi- //////'/' '" Inh'llrrtnal Iltiint>j : —
" Wliil.' \'t ;i 1>ov 1 son- lit fnr uln.st^, Mini spM
'riii.Mi-h many a U-t.-niir^ .•inmiluT. .'av. and rmn,
And sta.lit;lit « 1. Nvilli teait'nl st.'iw pni'suint,'
ll,,l),.s(,f !ii-li talk with till' a.'l.ilit.'d ilra.l.
1 calliMl .111 i...is..n..ns naim'S «ith wliicli .mr y.n.th is fi'd.
1 was ni)t liiMiii. 1 saw Tln-lii not ;
Winn, niusiii^; di.-ply <iii lli'' !'>'
Of litV. at thatswui'l linn- wln'u win. Is ;iru wooing
All vital tliin-s that wak.' t.i hriii^'
Nrws c,t' hit'. Is and Ijlnssnniin^:;-,
Sudd-'ii thy sliadow frll on mi' : —
I shiiik.d and .•laspcd my hands in i>cst:isy .
"I vowed that [ w.mhl .l.Mili'at.. mv i.,.wrfs
To the.' an.l ihlp.- ; hav.. 1 rot k^lit thi- vow ?
Tlo'V know that n.'vrr jiy illimi"d mv 1m-.. w
rnlink.'.l with li.il..' tlial thou w..ul.lsl i'lco
'I'l.is w.iil.l iioin Its (l.:vk ^hivi'i'y.
That th.m. V awt".l '1...VKLIN1;- s, _^
Wonl.lst j;ivc whal. ■•.'.• Ux ■< ^w.nls .'ann,.t express.
Thes. iu.sa-.s vv.ro vuur.iv.a hv a saner niinil an-l
^vl■itt..n with a Meailicr h:unl than wit. th. rather l.n.hlic
et^'nsions of Shi'llov-s ..ai'li.'.' s..iith.,>ro.liu-tin„swhu'h ho-a,.
first at K'on to eourt pen ami i-a,..'!'. Sov.ral tra-nu'iu-
an- l.o.'.n- hrlm- to this ti.iu". as al-o tly^ extravaoaiit
rouiaiic.'. Anstrn::i. wruien i)n.i..oo,y in .•„llai;w;ath;:; wita
ISTIiODrCTIOS
XV
,,,H„, ,o .h:uv its .M.lmMasn. . .1 kn.a. 1 ^^^^^^^^^
I n..ll,>n witl. MtMhviii. a.ul imssil.ly .il^" ^^'^'
^" ; ..f ISlO-ll. (JnilKim may hav.l.cLM. as.o-
-'>-'-^''^''V ti 1- ^vil^.a^vhlvlin,i.ul.ea,
.. .• 1 11 tlw. ronics — wave ono, miu'c lepniutc
lull nt wlm-h all tlu' opi '^ nr)l.ai.ly,
.1-, ,l..s.tr.)V('a or sui'Pi''''^-"^'^^'- '^ ' ,.
^vcn■appan.ntlya M.ou > 1 j,avtner=*lup.
M.awiu h..lp.a t<, sl.apo ^'- /f '"; :^;i : ^iWvi.u. the
,1„„„. ;>,..l tl,e two tvavellml "!'. '""''=' "j^.^j c..ncRO
•ri„„..i.y w- s---iy f" "■'■.;" ' ,,.,„„, sialic, will.
:;:-'f ,.::::n,:"S !;:;:i,::l' :vi-in:nsf »... .«
.vhat was passincc m ^Vv- h' mu n, a. I ^^^ ^.j^^_
,, O.fonl, aeciain, wlK^t h.- hkM aM.l .. h, Ue ^^
He. likM tlie seclusion, tl.o la.va.u-.. tl.L natu.a .
ll:!:';:'! We aia not Uke its sleepiness, as co..e.vaU.u,
• I.
I I
XVI
ISTlKUtrcTION
its (tnlcilv academic routine. ( Jiic is strikiiiL^ly remiiulod of
Bacon's iii(licliiieiit of the ( 'ainliii<li,'e of liis day : " In llie
lllii vei>it ie>. ;ili lliili'4^ ate loiind opjiosile til tlie adv;iuce-
ineiit of tlie MJeiices ; for tin- leadings and exercises are
liere SI) niaiia-ed that it cannot easily couie into any one's
mind to tliini< of thiie^'S out of tjie coinnnn. road. . . . For
the studies of men in such |phice»i are c(»nlined. and |)inneil
(hisvii to tlu' uiitin'^fK of «'ertain authors; fioiu \vhi(di. if
anv man ha]i|ii ns to ditfer, lie is jiresenlly re|ii-esented as
;i di^tuilier and innovator. " Siielley's mind — ah'it, orii^inal.
tiioMi,di al\va\ s in certain ie>]ie<'ts untiaineil — thoiiL,dit ot
many thiuLjs out of ihi' eommoii road, ilis ju'ime ( )xtoi'(l
* innovation." it is true, was not curefidly conci-ived or tact-
ful! v jiresented. It was a jiiex'e of folly for which he paid
dear, iiut it wa> not di-lionoural)le, nor was it even "dan-
f^erous " in any vital «ense. Soon aftxM* ITu iirrivul he made
the acquaintance casually of a felh>w-fre»ihman. Thomas
Jefferson Ho^^jl,'. a well-born an<l woiliily-wihe younij man of
considerable fultivation, easy opinions, and a lialf-cynit-al,
iialf-annisod, interest in the ])eo|)le he met and in the prob-
lems Ik; heard them discuss and on occasion discussed with
them. Ten years later Shelley thns described him, in his
Letter to Mari'i <ii>il><>nit' : —
" 1 cannot oxjiresa
His virtu. -s. tli<»iif;h I kiKnv (liat thcv arc j;rp,it,
I)i'i';iusc 111' locks, tlii'ii l^iiiricaclca. the f^ate
Within which thcv inh:ihit ; -^- uf his wit
And wisdiPMi. you 11 cry out wlieii you are bit.
He i.s a pearl within :iii ovstcr siu'll,
Out; of the ric'lii'st of I lie ilecp."
IIocTi? was stroiiLjly attracted by Shelley's look.s, sincerity, and
enthusiasms. The two met nii^bt after ni'^dit in each other'.s
rooms, and del»ated questions of literature, science, and his-
tory, on Siielley's side with fervour, on Ho;^i;'s with i^rowinif
interest in this rarti a/v'.v. an interest almost wonder. Hof:jtj
deeiilv re.snected Shelley's uowev of imaLdnation and niiritv of
ISTnoitlCTloS
XVII
rli:iract«>r. ttinii(,'li In- ;illi>\vr.l Iiiin-irlf to ii<> (Mit<"rt;iiii(il l«y
lii-; new fiiciid's txli :i\ a^'aiicts of iniiimiT aii'l statt'iin'iit.
II,. Iki-. Ifit ii> in lii> l.ih' <'l' Slnlhij :i .l.t;ul.-il ami pii'- ,
tiin-.|iic a.'coiiiit (.1 tlic iiHft a- lie Ki rw liiiii .luring' tt"ir
six lliollllis' (•(,inia>lf-iii|. at cuUf;;.'. lie .I.Miilir.i Slifllt > s
flmiiv as-'-li-lit ami fra'^'il.-. ami yrt lii^ Iioih- ami joints
ucif lar^r ami slion-. II.' was tall, l.ui tio sIimiikmI so iniifh
that Im' -.cfinrd nf a low -tat nic. lliscluth.s u fie fxpt'lisivc,
and iiiadi- accni-dinLC to the ino^t aiiprovcd iiiudc nt llicday;
hill Ih.y WCIX" tUlul.lrd. IMMiplrd. II nluiisli.'d . His j,'CsturfS
wiTi! aKMijit. ami suimtiiins violent. ucr.nMoiially even awk-
ward, yet nioif tri(|miitly m-ntle ami <,nactfiil. . . . His
fcaturi's. his whole t'aee and pailiciilai ly his head, were, in
fact, nimsnally small ; yet the la-t "/>/,r'iri<l of a reniaikahle
hulk, for his liair was lont; and hnshy. and in fits of ahsenre
and intheai,'onies(if I may nseti. • woid) of anxious ilioiit,dit,
he often ruhhed it lieicely with his hands, or pa-sed his nn-
fjors ([iiickly tiuoii'^di his locks unconsciously, so that it wan
sinjjnlarly wihl and rou^di.' . . . His features were not syni-
meti'i-' (the mouth, perhaps, exc-jited ), yet was the etVect ^
of the M)le extremely powerful. They hreathed an anima-
tion, a .re. an enthusiasm, a vivid and i)reternatural intelli-
^'ence. that I never met with in any other countenance. Nor
was the moral exjjression less heantifnl than the intelh-ctual ;
for there was a softm . a delicacy, a <j;eutleness. and espe-
cially (thou-li this will surprise many) that air of jjrofound
reliLcioUs veneration that characterizes the hest works, and
chiefly tlie frescftes (ami into these they infused their whole
souls) of the threat masters of Florence and of Rome.'' Otdy
liis voice did HuLJt,' Hnd displeasinL,% which seemed to him at
first " intolerahly shrill, harsh and discordant." Other friends
and contemporaries speak also of this defect, hut <renerally
a"-ree that it was ohservahle only in moments of hii;h excite-
ment, and that Shelley's noruuil tours were winsonu' enough.
The two friends not only read and talked together, hut
1 Cf . •' his scutttTeil liair."' — AUtstor, 1. 24S.
¥
i
i
X \' 1 1 1
I\ rUODI'CTIOS
il."r w.M.M in.-vr.h.lon.lv ua.-l. Sl„-ll. y porfurunn.r h,s
,U.::;. ,.n,-,..nl,„. .■lK.nn..al ..M„.n.n..n... o. tl,..v w,,nl,
,,;.„;,. :,1 Ml ,n.rysul.-Ni-ll-v-' 1 -I-- ''' » -'
,..,,„,, ii„l.. |,„ il,.- >luaK--..u,->- '1 upn„l,nM. :nnl i.i.rMM.,1
i;,...U.ll,...,,Mlinv,.-..,:mun.u,.l.:. In,.. nuHh,,,,!... :,.,.•,,-
,i....lv in.HM ..■uitlnMtlHM"i^-->"^ '"-'•''""'"■"•";:"''
i,„/|M„t,,nl,. IMato. \hmu: Ln.U: thr (imk t r:„v,l,.>.
Si:.U...n..:,iv. ;m,l Lana,.,. 1 1. n.nl inu..l al>o tu wnt... pui.-
li.l.i,..- .t l.i-.uu .xiM.UM- an,.tl>.T Kt..,u;.n .uMKUH... - MM,
l-,il„,;. _,S7. /,■,•,/.,..-,• nr Unslrrnrhu, : >....,.■ 1M,1, tu.il
v.TM.- and avulu,>H.nf,..iMH.lla>UMmsi,„H,vr.,„tain.n..lMM-
h..,l,u.s that i.l,.as...l uM.l.T^ra.l.ut. last.. i.r.nU..! tu^Khov
,vi,h sMMu.n, ,.vs..,i.msw..vk pnulnn.! s,.asM,..l..-,U.V. 1 liat
Sholh.v runia l.av.. l.c.-n wlUin, at thi^ .la,,- 1.. ,.nl.l.4:. Hmnuh
,„unvnHM.4v. l,is rnwl.. an,! ..vr^tranu-l tal,.. a.,.l to ,.:>-<l.
it. furuuu.s will. ...tlm^iaMH. atl.Ms iKMl.aps l,..tt.r tlum any
,„l.,,.i,,.l.. ta,.i ,h,T,.n,Hti,.n..niis.Titn.al j.ul.^MMont ,1m-
in.MhMKtonl .lavs. Tii. ,,,,.1 in Imn .nu>t muvIv hav. K.cn
l,ml...ta„ttl..-uinK-: •• I am aua.v.- h. u .„t,- to St„..Uale
ll., p„l,U,l.... at..-r na..,i.mln.,an t.. I.. lVlt,'-..t Ihenni-vu-
,,,„;,. .,,■ i,„l,ll.lnn. a l.-uk m. ilUr.,..>tc.a .> .S7. /nv/...
S...rU,lal.. tor his part. lr...n uhat.v.r nmt.vo. sIhto.I up
tn.ul.U. lor Slu.Uov at luMuc. l.y .ailing his ratlu.,-sat.<-.,tH.n
toth. m.s.mna.u;- uf his vi..u ■- ami attvihutim^ tins to Ins
,.„„,i„„,aasso..iati,mwithlI,.,t^. I'an ntal -••hmliy pat,..'-
„,a-int,.m.nti,mtollouea.o>av t,. .•onHi.r. MH-lh.y m what
,„„,„„, nu.^t ,h-si,..at.. a. th,. hm./f of tlu- n.i>..n, .rstoo.h
n. v..w..a c.x..h..llv t,, a,.t,.M,l i.is pnm.iph.s to tlm ast. an.
t,.n.mainh.valtohisfm.naa, all ha.a,-,!. 1 hs .• .l.Ts d,.!
„.„ „,,,„ |,nn with the wis.h.n. Innn of huunmr un. sy.npa-
^1,, , thcv -lia not U.mw tlm way t,. hi-, h,a.t. ami l>a,l th..,v
known it' th.>vwoul,l have fouml that Ima.t at tlm moment
..utof tuno ana ha.sh. Uar.u.l Gn.ve's alt.n-.i.m was not
pv.K.f a^ain.t her ahum at Shelley-s reputo.l In.resu.s and
' ^ . , , .■ ^ a- l,..i;..V ■■...1 unliclu!!.
Ins own ,'xagt.';t'.uU-ii >Uu .awanjiis ui u--
]\ri:ni>i'(r!(>y
XIX
"iif
S,,. ',,,,1, lnv..,l .n.l -In.a.l.l .h- stnu,^. v-mtl. ; Fn.l.;.-
;„....:.il..,l. an.l in ISll >1... .nam..! - n ..l...! ni.-ar-l, as
Sli.llrv .I.tmIkmI hi.n. a. Ml. M.lvai. i" .
,. „,,' ..mlu 1...... IM.M n,,..,. .l.nin, Ih.. ( najunas
v...aU.::raMa,h..M.ati...l I n„.l..,an.-.. tl... ..>....• nt ;.!''_
.„... 11. w,.la,n„..l,l.a. lU,,>hnu!.l.nanv KhaKHl,
,,U ,1.1.-. M^t.r. ulm uas atV....tiuMa.. ly .-..^.1.,,^ li-n. at
M,M. ,,...l,a,.. all. ..f -Ins o,il l,a,l l..-, av,...!..,! .1 .1-
p,iuu.a,I.Ml..n.inl,a.ll>...nl..>siuM....M,.0.:.v,.nn^a^^^^
,. f,.i..n.Nn..u.uilliuut.. n.ly on lus ,,...• =^» ;^"";'' '
,„a r..ot .l..nli.v. h ■. far ln„M tl,. n.a.k ,. allow t-.at
Sh..ll..v ua- at any li-u.. a .LlilKTat. ath.Mst. >o man. u -^
.,tV t.'. ^av. has f.lt n.or. .lim-tlv an.l ....nt.nnally than . hd
';,,„....xM..n.-....f al..-nelWntS,,in.. As an un.l.r^nu.w-
,,., i, ion,... h.■uasaHWt...linhisth,.u,■htl,yth...^.uMnas■
;,f;,,,,,,iMisn,.l,^,a,n...inu,.a..s...l^.,...sn^at..th. ...^
olanulmna,.-ln,.lli,.-H...an,lLov... 1, ua.nl.. he .htlw.lt
t,, lin.l in pun. m..-atur.. a m..e ,.a,.r lun.,cr ami tlnrsf f^
,,-li„.ss and ,!u. Source of i.oline>s -Iwrn a,Mu-a.s n, Slu-1-
,!,.-s .1,/ ns. nr rr.n. //./A'.. 77,. /.■-.--// ';/ /.sV...,
.i,;,l ]>,.,.n,rf/..»s rnhoun.l. n.,t t.. speak of Ins .,ust an.
;,,v..n.nt Ks.nn.^ a<r:sf;.nufll. With what u- .....u-...v...l .
t„ 1.0 the inherent tah.t ..f ...■.■lesia-.ieisn. .... h.-.l he was
...,„.,,„UV at wa... like Chaue..v. M;^..-. • -'-;;; ^^^ j;
^^,„, nn.wnin,. in tlu.h- .liver-e wavsMl.ou,h. ..uhUe .h..n.,
he at.a..k,..l n.., nuMvly the t.int. hut .-vl... an.l wth i.e.-
,„,,„V. the entire ehun.hlysysten,. Tn tins r..,.u.l he he-
t,.av:^l ....usual .est. as witness th.. inM-l-atn-ns ..f ehar-
..,;.r in ..ar.linal an.l ,.,,-i" '^'^"' TV-., a.nl the y.val
.,i,,„,,s .,f the r,'..>rf/n:.. when e.„n,Kne.l w.th C huu-
eer-. ,-o...l-hnn,..nr..,i ..v.-lath-ns in 77,r (^n>f.;'l.>nf T..h's.
an.l lt..wnin^'s half-f.aen.ilv .-on.h.mna.ions ..! Hh„u:.-n.n
an.l hiskin.h Slullev nnf.nlnnat.ly t.MHh.l t,. ..l..nt,iy alwavs
pviesth..o.l with tradition, th.' elnarh with u.u:...ni,r..nns.nj,'
i
ill
XX TNTUODUCTION
and pov..M-utin- .-onscrvatisn,. TIumo is in Ins work no
.. povn. I'.Tsoun ..f a tonn," no Innocent XII. H.,' .b-l not
iKil.itnally m- l,oth m.I.'s. tli(.n,i;h in one of liis more lu-n-ivo
nn.o.ls I.'- a.tnallv expressed a deMre to l-rconn' himself a
,„i„i>trr. "Of the moral doet rines of (;iiri>liamty I am a
more .leeided diMMple than many of its more ostei.taUons
prnfessors. And consider for a monumt how mnch ^ood a
,r.,„d eler.-vn.an mav do." ' I'.'.t for a moment only Nvas tins
eonsidere.i. Shrllev wid.ed eharaeleri>tieally to dispense f.n-
,.-,M,d and all with the "law- idea, and to hrln- the sorely
MdTerin.- world ont into the li-ht of knowle.l-e, virlne, love,
and freedom. He knew what prayer meant : lu- was deeply
moved hy awe and wonder in the contemplation of the eternal
inysteriJs. In hrief. he was n<,t the enemy of veli-ion that
I,,', thon-ht he WIS ; he everywhere iiroclaini.-d the eilieacy of
the spirit of Love in liealins; and redeemin- hnmanity. In
later years Dante and Petrarch, in some respects moddie.l
Ids aversion to historical C ristianity. for thron-h their works
he canu. to feel keenlv its spiritual heanty and power. His
(,wn reli-ious instinct and attitnde as a yonth are sno-o;ested
for us in\wo stan/.as of Wor-lsworth's 0>/e to Duty : —
'■TluTc ;ir(' who ask nor if tliine eye
Be on tlu'ni ; wlio. in lovi> .uul tnuh
Wlicn> iio inis^ivinj; is. rely
TTpon till' ■;rni,il sciisf of youth:
Glad lic:uts'. without nproiicli or l)lot,
Wlio do tliv work, and know it not:
Oh 1 if tlnont;li contidi'iic.- misi.laci'd
Thty fail, thy savin- arms, dr.ad 1* "w.r '. around ihom cast.
" ScriMii' will l>f our ilays and hri.iiht
An<l h.iii])y will our nature he
Wluai lov.> is an nn.rriu:^- liuht,
And joy its own security.
And (hey a hlissful emirso may hold
Ev'n now, who, not nnwisely hold,
1 Front a conversation with Thomas Love IVacoek, reported by
him.
XXI
ISTllODVCTloy
i;,v.. in til.' spirit of tl.is cncd : _ , ^^
Y , sc...k thy tirn. su,.,ort, accorJiu,^ to the.r nc.d.
'P,,. f,,shm:,n of University College, however, with a
„ , , .....atious ...a for reforuu was .n ..o n.oo.l o
c.on>i>l.r his ways a.ul he ms. H ,^^^
^'^'•^^^'^^'' •^^^'- ■ ,,lvnoaoul.t.arauKUie. The ar,n-
„n,_-par,lysuH.eH..Va 1^ ^^^^^_^ „„u-nahslic
;:::;:::i::;r;.i::^:t^ ::-:;:;--,;:-::
U„„wU..l,.. l.nt tl.« an.l,,.,- «™, ■ 1 "^J ^^ j_^;^
Stukeh.y-' foreounsel -''''•^■"'■■'- ,;'' ,;;.i,.,ie.i..ea contro-
iurnishea their eorvesponaent w:th '"'"'' '^^-^^ .. y;,,.
. , •„,< Sl.ellev haa sent a copy to tUt V h e
versud ope,Mn,s ^Mjh ^j^^^^,,^^ „„i ,y Uis own
CliaiiceUor ami to eatli oi tut. ^
Vr . I.. WW iiiterro.'atea ainl coiuleinuea. Upon con
Master l>e ^-^y".^^",,; .,. ^„ ,,i,,„3wle(h40 ov to aisavow
^''"'^^'•"r V Tu.c t^X was sun^narily expellea.
tl>e anthorsh.p "t the P'M eiy ^ ,^^, ^.^,^,^^.,1
Fron. the stern conclave of Mast i .in.l i,„t„„iv
..v..n.lv to Ilo.-ui.h thefatetnl news; H0-4 .n>tanu>
" •, , ..eh ana .h.-w „p..n l>in.>elf a hke exannna-
^""^■^•'"^ '^"' 'V'^'^'- '7^ ,,,, ;,.,„... l.ope.l that submission
,•„.„. with a ia.ere^uh. J\^''* •1" ''- ,. ' ,„ .„„^,a ;„,l the
-"IT;: : ri,e,l;.anailo...i:nneaanan.onnu.a.
1 :, •si,ew!.onu.l>thavehe..on.en.oreanan.>re
!;::,'s;!ih.v-s.l/ J/... haa hehavea ,n a »«. of
„,,,.,nnM.aien..ashisy>..,A|..^^^^^^^
After visiting trien.ls and skumisUin^
ai
''"^^' ■ ; ,,.,„'-_-tlK-twovom.^.m-nsoUl.Miamv,i
"\Viirsa\v;in(lnt iivfddiu. — tmM>oN ^
o tlu.ir l:aUitnal ..on.nuU.hii,, m,.,l nU.m>i M - .u
inu.licit future oboai.Mu-. .uul a rupture w.th Ilu-,,
ciu.nu, "'M'''- ' ,,,^^.,, i.iu. 11. h.a als., aa.,ur..a
:t:::'m-':;:t,....-.:n...^:"-. '--":
s„.,„ >v„l,.l,H„- ...■ «..» .;,h,lr..-„ to \"H, to ■■"•''
Sl„.ll,.v wh.. ,J....u.,l to (ollow Ititt, Ut.r.t,,.. »lt" "•"■''
.w:ti;,K..o,u'.i.ii". ...--.>•■ '"™'^''7, ::::;;
;, , ,.n..,. t«-i,„ » .v.i.l....t of 1 '-■ -"' I""""'"-'
l,..il- vi'il aiul i)t'ison;u — niiwct^"
:;;;::,.^;t:: ■;::;;.'—-
,.f l,..r Hirri.'t was a ninsoiue la.>. . xiiniMU ix
XNTllODVCTloy ''''"'
pavticnlavly attva<.t.ve -; ' ^ ^; ;;:^.;,, ., ,u views, sh.
vapuUv .-.e una.- the <•'-;;-; ;-^,.,,, ,.,,„ .eeUs
luulvassoahevln.ut .e,au . ul O ^^^^^^^^._^^_^^^
^,,, Uis part, knew notlun,. . - -^^^^^^^^^^
snehap. -^''li'v. InU took a 1. . •- ^^^ ^^^^^^^^^
"^ "-'^'^^ =*''' :' 'W'ri-r ::;:ntly coneemln, the
1-- ana '^V''"" , I .iet'she hhtheveaftev l.e.an to
„„„evs they a.senssea Han et ^ .^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ .. ^^^,..
,-,U, ana SheUey. at,.-,hut.u. th to so. ^^^^ ._^ .^^^.^^_
----•• -^^:"'r:;r:tl.ha,ainh..oke a Uu-ee
^^•^': '7 '■''■"'';; ;n^:tenvava.Havn.t-sp.-eeeptn.ss
.vithlntoenuu.^- > ^ ^^^._^^^
•^'^^•'T^' Titl-Il-uul even, it is saul. suspenaea
hoth her ami hi^ lanuiu
Hanlet. . ,• f (\,,,t;iin PilfoM
^^--^'^7^^7T';.u-r-; :n.vsheiiy-spou.ie.i
ana the Duke of No tolk. M ;,,,,_,.,.,. ,„,iu.i toh.s
ehieMh.t,enth.nuu.lK..une a ^ ^^^^^^^^
..n.enaoweahim.nu.ona^. a^^^^^^
sentea to ve.eive ''^'".^^ ^ "^'\ ' ;, ,„„,,,.., .n.l Eli/aheth,
S,eUeyfouna^nst.a.n.ev.^^ . ., hi. aesi.e that
aeavly as they lovea hnn. ^ . ^^^ ^^^^, ^^.^^^^^ . .. [
she shouhl aeeept Ho,,- » *' ^ " "^^ ,,u with ! I son.e-
,.,.pevieethennan..a^ .^ l^^
tin.es -''-^-^^rV • I i^av ehMiuent; o.l,e.wi.e
^^^^ '^ f ''^^ ^'T \vir pavtiedav oh^eet in view.-; Ho
.vvote not ^av ^ H^ -^ ^^^^^_^^^._ ^^ ^^,^„ ^.„,, , ..sly
i:.:i"a:::;:it.ess w^nnn he inul n,et at Capta..
Filioia-s l-,on<e in < ""••l^'";''^- ,,,.^,, Hhavaaer,
Wales, sliovtly sueeeediu I oik
i
isri:(>i>i''"i'^'^^
=^'''^r''''''rrnWwn.teon..e a.ain. appealing t..
SlK.ll.v to sav \m--v In.ui , . „;„;.,een - P'-stM at cu'c^
,,ea.t.a youth -- h-^ ^^^^^^^,^^ ^^^ ,,^^. ^,,,,,,a avp.ai-
^" ^^'""^'r- v'" T,ivwlu.n she falUTingly tola 1..M. love.
...... a,uU.nb, -^"t JlesfeltiuB^>^v..iug•si^yr-
Sh.•ll.■y aoublL.= Kit as omt
'' If wl)<>»'V('r loves
^Vl,v s\,o,.M wo always .hoos. tl . ..i,< _l
],::.i..wo,nanwithnU..n 1 ot ..... -
l,iu.l...yself4..ee..h...v..ts..e,....
1 f- 1,-w (^ouvsf as vcsemhUii;^
^,^ ^^ ,,,,,, H.,, ho s,.as..^
,.^^,,„, ..„.W a. urn .^^2a^alou^:sh.wlli,htit.as
A„..n.l Hvssh. ana lav .t l> ^ .^^^ ^^^^^^^^
__l,v^oa.htoKalubm-l..^^i-■ ^"^^
'_'S. ISll. ,u,,,,ito fuKiurlal tronhles. for
,..„. hn.hana ana -;'"-•''' ;„^, his son. again u ith-
S..,U.v-sfa..v.ao,.Un.-^^^^^
.ln.vvhi^:na—^1>"'" ■''"-" . ' york. ana was
aon.i.a.a with ins tvunuls. 1 .1- "1- - .^,^„^,^,,-, entlmsi-
at
jyTUOhVCTlON
XXV
\
...hool.^ivl. very w.lhn, .o •» 1 ^^^^^ i,u.n..MU!4
U.e .V.V.1U.VS nu.vM on U^ -1^ . ^^^^^^^^^ He nuule a
to seek a prsonal '"t-- w ^ ; ^^^ ^.^ ,,,,,. ..ly to u,
,..t,ytnpl.toSnspasU^^- ^^^,,^^^^^ ^ ,^, ,a,
.u-t with Mr. ^lu^ll;^ ;'^ ^,;^„,,, .vhose tu.e .nental ami
conversation w.tU '^^>^%"'^ "!^ ,i,,Uy overrated, was Im
piritnal .nalities ''V"'TLm - - returned to York
J„W ,ain. Passiu, ^;-;^^^,^° ! ^ ,..,,e north and i>ad
to 'tin.! that Kli-* '^^^'^' ;, 1 Thon,h Shelley was
aware of tld. plan, and had to ^^^^^^^ ,,,o,van>n.e
l,een .on>ewhat diseoneerted. At ^^^^ ^
.as inan,nrated. ^^^^^^^^^, J hy Shelley, who
.vho was as clay m f^^''" ^ ' "lu>y Ho,,, who was not
.o.dd only look on juul -- ;,;^ ^as feelin, the need ot
.•onsidered at all "--;:; /^.....t. an interest wh.h
protection fron> Ilog^ > ''''\ I- tUon<d» not the continued
iuntlv cost hin. the --'^ ^^ ^^^^^^] sh,Uev. Frcnn York
...iendship. of a ^--;;';; , t,. three, hut with Eh.a
,,, lutle conM.any. stdl -^^^ ^^^^^.^ ,,a setth..ln>
-thephu.eofHo,,pv-;^ ;^^^.^.^^.^, ^
Chesuut Cottage mv I ^,^^,,,, , n,>y>n,
H.ve they st.yed toi -^ ^^ ^^ ,,,t, and with du.rs
,,..,,U with the h.^^£^^-^W^,^ ,, ,., ,1 orter
lUerary enterpr.es, >nc la a ^^^^. .^^^^ _^^^^^^_ ,^,, ,
INTROTiVCTJOy
en! in ..-l-' -"^ l''?' i;:^,,!. l.ut tUuu,h Shelley tnet
,.,un^.v nu>eU v-'^-f ^^'^ ,,,,„.ss, !.>• sunn aVtevwarc
-vote .o M-H-'''^'--'-^ ,,,,,,, „,.uMhatWi. or can 1.0
.-.uulhey as 1 .lul. • • • ^^ ^ ,,;„, to ; Ins nun.l
• ,/,nl'lvn;nn.\vcon.l.are.l t» ii- • ' , „
The Dukeot >'"'^"^^; '" ;;a son -in response to a
-^u,ly letter tn.n> Bvsshe H- ;^^^ .^^.„„, ,,,,, opened,
t..v was not at once aajn-te.l. - i ^Vestbvonk ^veve
..ai.efo.elon.theyoun..nn^;;^; ,.., .eat. Sho.ly
i„vite.ltor.n.vs,oke.the )nU ^^^^^^ ^^^^ .^^^„^,,^^. ..j
a(terwa>a it was uannate.l ^o S - > ^^^^^^^ ,.„„,.„t to
^,0(.0 annually nu,l>t l.eon.h-^^^^^
-'^^"' ^'^' """' ': *^^nC^';Vo.posea the lawol pvi.no.eni-
John. Shelley, who stvun 1> ^^ ^^^.^.^.^.^ ^as
Uu-e ana helieve<l that he lu.a -J^^'. ^,.:„,,,,.. ,..1 with-
tentative sn^.e^tion aeeUnea U - ^ ^^^^^^^ _ ^,,., ,,
outpavley. Shouia elum^^^^^^^^^^^
thought unbkely.ashean.uM-^ ^^.^^ ,^,^^„^,,.,„,
posea to shave U wuh h^ t - ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^^^ ,^^, ,,„t
L.ose J.owevev. Shelley,. the^U^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^,^,^
Lis father a letter so .just ana km It ^^^^ ^^^^^^_^^ ^^^ ^.,,,^^ ^^.^^
.vasinaueea.ana ^^y ;^:^'''''':^:''\r;^ .^ ^i,. -uu, sun. ^rantea
,,.in .ettlea ap.n. l''- ^^^^ ^,,,,;,tenee. saved the youn,
1,V Mr. Weslhr<.ok to i^u ^^^^ ^^^^^^.^.^^ ^,,^,^01-
^;,ol,lefromwhathaahecomeaualj
arv poverty. . . m .^i Kton. was much
■| ' -" '•■■ ■■•■•■"""' ""' :, "■ ''"'■"■•■■'' ■'■"-
i,„,vc,u..i i.. <-:u,l«,. - -■■■■„ „,,„„ h,. ...» I,.ar.
„■,,, n. .„....■.•., I...1 -; ^'"» ; ,^.^.,„,,„,_i„.i,ad
suppusea hiin >ieaa ■■■■- - -
lyTIlonrCTION
XXVll
l,i. wife ana si.t.r-u.-l.u. U tt ^ ^^^^ ^^^ 1,,,,.
I'M-l-'-^'-^V'f "',in:mon in itself. -l- •'-;-
(,,.;„, Ut,l. for Cath.au. La ..,,,, .-^tne. no pavtv Imt
. ^^.„,,,.,.-. __ ,.. -v..v.lua.-> tin - ^^^^^^^^^ ^^,^ .,,,/,.,..
gcvvuH' ol 1". 1 ,.v,.'.tt'a sonu" stir. and.
.uaaea l.y C-auUK M.n.,Ut to 1 o.n _^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^^,,
. Association ..f rhllanthrop >t>. ,, ^,, .ann-hlets
,,.eatlv en]oy.a then- ';-^^';;: ;;:\ ,, ,,,,. the .inaow to
i;. .vote, so-aetunes tl--;^jl-^^^^^^,^ ^^^„,,, .,, some
'• l-'^-^Vv •' 1'---^^- !' '^' '' , .na thereafter u-et, though
,.e.ptance at a vuhlu- m. U.u, ^^^^^^. _^ j^.^,^ ^ , ,,.
,,,th seant satislaetn.n. - -^ ,.;„,,,, nnnle huu-
Heeneoanterea P— ^•^•>'7.: ;,.,.,„ i ,..etlonset in. a re-
aetion aue partly to »-';--;, ,^, ,., (...i.in^ rather
-tuationiuanypraetn.a.a-^^^^^
elulhn, erltielsms. At^ 1-^ ;■ ^^^^^,,„,.,^ aay>. V'-^-'^
f.rHolyheaa. ana.aie - Here he pennea one or
,,u,atNant,walt.^o.h^y^^^^,^^ ,,,,,,,, l,,vel>ea-
t- ^'>--'^- ^'"'7- "' " e. u- man ana writer, thenee-
eoeU. a liheral. ^l^--^ ;^' ^J, ,,,kes were up. ana the
i.,vth Shelley's Iruna. Hut a^^
4f|
I
XXVIU
i\Ti:()i)rrTi()S
1
\\i
rims rwv.'t
V, tiist to tlw di'iivc-;" lioiii^. near liy, and tlicn
id Clicpstow. iMul to Lyiiinoiuli. Dfvoii. Amid tlic <Miti;iMC-
iiiL,' (■<):i>t -(•fiitiv tlicv st:i\c.l two moiitlis. ami Ihtc lli<'y
illlrd I \\<- :iil\ rll
t (il .Mi>- I liti'lllllt T. W
<-liai'm>. Iii.wrvrr. >l((\vl\ l:il
l:i|isiil iiiio ciimmiiiiiphicc iii
1:
ti-:iunlin:irv
Slirl-
Icv s ;i> HI
11;
llirt >i tlllllkll
I-
I'DIM
•I'liiih'. thriMi'^li ,--t\ir;i
rc:i(ilii'4 iiinl wriliiiL^
1 trnii^itiiiii^. "' 1
it' my sold
I )rmon.
>l'o\\ II
wi'iil. OH m li\ nmoiilli, am
1 at
as liiixilv at work ii|)oii lii> (,hiri'ti M"/i.
he wrote liis liirtliday sonnet and his hlaid.; verse
I jielined his elier'j,itic Lctti'l'
\-j^ till' ])roseciition of one
me s yi
{'le
Much
tl.i~ time Shelley w
1 lere. too,
ai)oslr(i])he to llaniet. am
td L'ird J:'l/i ii/ioroii'/// conce
Katon. a jioor liookseller, tor i)al)li>hint;- pait of I'a
of Hpjisoii. 'I'iie Devon coast saw Shelley often enfjfa^M'd in
Iho l)oyisldv serious hii>ine>s of sciitteiiii<; his revolutionary
writini,'- to the world it lar^^e through the media of liotths.
sea-hoxes. and lire-ljahoons. 'I'lio arrest of his man-ervant,
however, while dist rii) itiii^r .-opies of the Shelh-yau J>i'rl,ir<t-
il<,n nf /t'l'jhfs, deei('.'d th(3 swift min.h Wlien (iodwin
iirrived unexpectedly in Lynmontli. Septendier IS, he found
his disciph' iiown.
Diirini; tlie next year SlieUey traveded variously in all
])arts of tlm riiited Kim^MJom. He settle<l first at Tan-yr-
allt. near Tremadoe. Carnarvonshire, and turned from the
refonn of liumanity to that of nature, earnestly aidin.i,' W.
Alexan.ler Madoeks, M. I'., in his attemi.t to reclaim sev-
eral tlu.usiuid acres of land from tlie sea. While visitiii'jf
London in order to raise a siihscription for this iiroject, he
seized the ojijiortunitv to visit the liome of (iodwin. wliere
lie met. he-i.ies llie old philosoplier. — wdio looked, Harriet
thonL,dit. like Socrates. — tiie second Mrs. Godwin alsu. hor
VomiLC son William, and Fanny ( Imlay) Godwin. Iniin to
iSIary Wollstonecraft l>ei'oro slie liecame Godwins tirst
wife. Clara Jane Chdrniont. dau-^hter of ?ilrs, Godwin
an<l lier lirst hushand. and Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin,
(hui,i,diler of Go<Uvin and liis lii'st wife —a sufieiently com-
i
lyfiiouucTioy
XXIX
pUcaU'.l fiiinily. this
WITl-
)f Slu'lley'^ st:»y n
H'CDilU'
\
l..ft
thi'iii. NVli
o-clV <
1)11 rt'o
ird 11"
;il,s.M.t(luriti-iiiust of tlu.'tiiiie
Loil.lolK Hiul, th,.ll-l. l">tl> W.T.- Sn.,11 to
I will, tilt' lift! of tlu! l-oct, lu' lus
f his iini.ri-sioiis. if ht! lln'ii saw
011CI'11H'(
miiiuttJ o
1,. II, London ShcllfV made
>tl
Otllfl'
fi
•luls also,
am
I >oii-ht t»ut llo--. l-'vii
lllUii'^
^U^
li ifiu'wal as was i)Os-
■,1,1,. of lliuir
,1,1 association.
Miss Ilitcluiifr
lier ji
l,fin;4 lost, took luir timil leav..- (
,f ShfUfV hospitality,
li
(Ifstal
•• Wo
wei-i- nitiru
Iv .Ifreivt-a in Iht .-iKua.-tiT as U. .■.■i,nl.luni-.,.sn.
li'ish frii'n.l. Mr.- Catln'n.i^'
wrolo llanii't to im Ins
"and in short eviTythiiu
olso w
hicl
1 she pre
Nni'cnt,
tended to be.
Novenihe
of happy <
her 15 Trei
naduc
loinesticitv foUowec
,;\vasa-ain in siKdit,aiid months
1, Shelley reading nmeh, con-
tiniiinL'
Queen Mth. r
dieviny the distress
of the pi>or
ahont him, at
imprisonment o
d consumini; lii3 s'>n
1 in inilii,niation
at tl
le
R
ipi
e'a-n
f Leij;h limit for a lihel npon the
'nnee
t. Late m
Fell
niarv.
18i;^, a hnvglaiions attaek was
U. npon the poet s home
am:
1 his life seems to
Lve heei. in some danger. At all events, the uieulent «as
nervously n,as,niitled hy SheUeV into - atrocu.ns assass.na-
^ "and. eo^vineed that some sinister villaui was on Ins
: I, he h.ft a,ain for Duhlin. Tlienee the yonn, f^umly^
•onrneyed to the heantifui KiUarney Lakes, and by Apr.l
wei-e ao'aiii hi London. .
QuZ. Mai. a Ion,, uneven, nnrhymed poem lync a,.,
hen,ic, far n.ore representative of the hoy Shelley than of
^ ;!, was completed in the spring, and ..s pnn^ for
restricted distrihution. in 1S21 its author ^ ----^ -
" a poen, • . • written hy me at the age of -S,' '^een -- I h t
savm a sumciently intemperate spirit. . . . 1 douht nothnt
thi;, it is perfectly worthless i.. point of literary con.p.-tm,> ;
1 I„.,„ InU-restins article in Th. Centnr^j Ma^<nin. for ()..t..l..r I'.X).,,
hopulessly Jiseusud sheup.
x\x
i.\Ti:()iir(Ti<>\
and thiit.inall lliat .■niicrin- iin.riil ;uul i.nlill.Ml sppcnliilion.
as w. 11 a-, ill tlif siil.tl.-i ,li>ci iiiiiiialioiis of iii.'taiili\ Mcal
aii.l ivli-i..iis .loctiiuc, It i> still iiinif iMiiii.' and iinMiatui.."
Dii.in- UiL- same yt-ar lu- un.f In Wovaw Smith: - It yn
iK.pi'ci' to l';i^'' l>i">''4l't a .M.l'V "I (Maikrs ..ditiim ..f r,>(0.,/
.)/'//, tor me. I sliouM liU.' v.tv u.'ll to s.'c it.— 1 ivally
l.unllv l<n..w wliat tl.is poiMu is al...ut. 1 iim afiai.l it is
ratluT ron-ii." TIr- lantln,' in tlir (.orm -avi- Iut nam.' t..
Shrllrv and ilaviicfs first child. lanthr Kli/a!>Hh. l-uin the
tolh.uin- dun... SlH'lh'vV S-'ptrniL.T sunn.'t. To inithr,
expn^scs tin' i,n-(.uini; lovi- he hcstowed npun tlu' iidaut.
After her rominLj a rcMnoval was mad.' to I'.nicknt'lh in Ucik-
shiru. at tlu! sn-4t'sli.)n .d' Mr-. I'.oinvdh'. a cidtiirL'.l an.l
hi-h-prin.'ii.h.l \v.)man. an.l Inr .luU'^hl.-r, Corn.lia Tarrn'r,
uh..m Sh, Ih'V ha.l ni.t in L..ud..n. Fn.m 15rackn.-ll llu-y w.nt
int.) Iht' Lake .'.nintry. an.l thence t.) K.linhnr-h a-^ain. with
Peac.M'k, hut hy Dc.'end.er weru ha.'k in L..n<l.)n. securin;^'
11 tcmix.rurv h..me in Win.l<..r. near Dia.'kn.U. Shelley was
n..w teelini: ke.nly th.' n.'.'.l .d ad.lith.nal income, and ha.l
lately pai.l a clan.iestine visit 1 .■. lie wn.te niu^.' a-ain t.t
his lather for considerati.m, nr-ently. hut in vain. Such
money as was iinperativ.dy nece.ssary to him. therefore, ho
riiised on p.ist-ohit honds.
The hi.);,n"ii)hers of Shelley a-ree tluat shortly after the
birth of h."r first hahe a certain insensihility, always latent
in Harriet's temj-er. he-an to sh.>w itself in iK'culiar fashion.
She lost, almost cmplet. ly, her interot in h.)..k.s an.l read-
im^r. in intellectual a.lventnres. and even in the <loniestic
responsihilities attachin- to her :ts wife and m.)ther. That
Shelley felt deeply this dimiinition of her customary che.r-
fulness. this new." stranj^e ah...fn.'<s „f his f..rm. rly hri-ht-
natniv.l wif.'. is amplv evid.'Ht fn.m the leslimony of his
jDems an.l 1. 'tiers. With an achin- heart he watche.l the too
rapi.l conrse ..f the chill curr.'nt of in.lilY.'r.'nc. S.)m.'tinH's
he woul.l turn to the H..invilles in perpl.^xity a.i.l .h^d.!.
r ,.r,,l,l,.m lie h.inllv knew how t.> voice.
. .1 :,. .. 1...1,
i\' il:i>hr< rios
XXXI
Harriet al^.i
,t a voiu.- iiiatiMii who l.M.ke.l UI...11
;.,,,,,u,l.a>.a--.K.a.,......,alvi,.w-,an.lu.a.nu..su>tl.l.->si.ar-
;;i,,,.„..„l„.i...... N,.u 1,. was n.a,ll.,, •■ap.un.u.ly vv. h
II
tit
0>rn:.liaT..n...r in tl..- Italian ,..M.ts.n.,w.l.l.ati..^
soinr v.-li''l...i- nii...liti<'al.|.i.'>ti
ar.liMitly
,,,,. n..w iiii|.iil-ivrly waii.l.T-
.,,;^^,„,,.„, or !..-in, lnn,...in„ fa...a>.i.. al,Mra..t,.,n. l...t si,,.,
wi;.l.a,luiv..nh..r.4n,>ln,nf..ralltin..sw-asn..tn..-...vn,,
a . ....n.,l..va,i a.,.l .li.l n..t f...l th.. n......>Mty ..t -naU.n,
L.ifta,n,.n.ssiv....n,.. T....yw..n.ln.s,,a,,.l..^^^
,,,.1 tl... witV ha,l n.. iVar ..f l..s,n,Mh,. lu.shan.l. ItSh.lKy
,,,,., It,, l.nak tl.n>ngh tl.i> tihu hanlenin- ,nt.. a La-TUT,
Klla s .-..nstan. ,,.■.•>....•.■. -lu.h ha.l Lecn... v.vy uks„,no
hi„..an,liIan.i..tV..uvl,.sM,,.sst,,war,lIanth....na.l. h.
a,.,.u,tn..,n.an.l,n..n.,litli,ul.. Thn,n,h the a.lvH- u lu.-
sister a.ul fath.r. t,.... ilar.i.'t was he^nnnin-^ to press for u
:rsocialstati..ninlire. Wa. n.,t Shelh-y a haronet-to-he
an.l heir t.> a ,reat estate Mt was h,-,.nnn, surely apparen
that the n-la.ion h.^tuveu ihe^. two ha.l never heen a v.tal
o„e. hnt ..nlv for a tin.e vi,ali/.e,l. IVsp.te a see.^ul n.ai-
ria.^e eeren.ony, enter...! up,.n Mav.-h '>2 tor le.,al reasons,
■UHl .lespite Slu.lU.v's passive aeeeptanre ..f the .luty of pa-
::!:.Kli.aan.l Harriot, hv April. lSltJ.a.l taken ,he,r
departure f.>r a season, an.l Shell..v ha.l written the n.ourn-
ful stanzas printe.l .-n pa,e 1. The f..ll..wMn., n.onth h,3
acUlressed a poen. to Havnet. conelu.lin;^ with this appeal : -
"0 trust f.)r .nu'f ii>> t'rrin.4 s'"'!'^ •
Hill the rL-iiiDrsi-less f..,liiiS flt-e ;
T is maru',., 't is it-veii'^L., 't is pride,
•T is ;iii\tliiii;^ liut tti,-,- ;
dei^n a iioliltr l.iidu t,) iintve.
And pitv if then .■aiist net love."
. Harriefs las, l,-.,e.s t„ M.-. N,.^,nt, however, contain several
very iiU'eulionatu relenUL-ts U< l.uillie.
i
it.
4 '
"'I
.\ X X 1 1
r\ ruohi ( I i<f\
Uiit llanift rf!:i:iiiii'il aujy, scttliif^ now ,it Uatli. wlulo
Slulli V u:ilkf<l «lfH|i;iiiiiii;ly lli«' stifi-ts of L.hmIoii. 'Iu
,Mll.d not iiit'if.|iu'iilly 111 tin- hoMic uf liis iiiiiM.T. (JcKmii.
wlius,. tiii;iiici,il (MiiilirhHi \\:i- t'Mii Wdisc lliuii lii> own, ;iii.|
whum 111' w;i.s (l.v.ili-dly ;uixic.ii> to rclifV.'. ( ) .■ iiiiclsiiinim r
,I;iv lif m.'l |ir..li;ilily tlifii lot- In- tii-'t liint-- (in.lwin's
(1:ii.l;1iI' 1 M.iiy.' » \tiitirii \c;irs (if a'4<'. palf. tarri.^t. an.l
licainil'iil. 'IMicir iiil.ll.ctiial ^\nlllatll\ \va> iiimi.Mlialc, aii-l
al't.i- l>ul a in.iiitli of aciuaiiilanci- t arli Kmu hnl too .■.f-
taiiilv ill"' fi'i'liiit; of tlif olliri. A^ \<t ii<> uonl of disloyalty
to Hanift was iittcii'd on ritiici- side. Siullfy d'nl not at
thf nioiinnt iiflif\c that an lioiiouialiK' ii lease was open to
him. aii.l Harriet, for lier part, was now l.ei,nnninL; to ni^Met
tlu'ii- division. By .Inly, however. Shelley had coine into
possession of what lie thoiii,'ht iini|nestionalile evi.'ence of
hi- wife's unfaithfnlness to him. evidence which lu itinued
to l.elieve. tlnin^li it wa> later modified in s<.nie important
particidars. nntil h- died. Conceinini; its actual value it is
dilh<-uh if not iinp^ tu iiroimunce. Imt there can he n(»
douht of Shelley's pain ' siu.-erily in relation to it.
Neither he ii<;r Mary (In hesitated to acceiit what
seemed to them a ju-tifyiuir ,•,.,, dition of their incseiit love
and. indeed, of their later union. Writing to .Southey in
1X20. Sheiley declares liintself *• iniioceiil of dl. either done
or intended ; the const-ipiences you alludo to ilnwed m no
respect from me. It yon were my friend, I couhl tell you
a history that would make you oiku your eyes ; hut I shall
certainly never make the jjuhlic my familiar coniidant."
When Shelley, ahont .Inly 14. sn^'^ested to Harriet the
dosirahillty of an understood separ: tioii. she did not openly
oppose him. thlnkint? it prohahle that his re<;ar(l for INIary
1 H.irrii't's first reference to Mmtv. in her correspondence with Mrs.
Nugent, ll.is piillielie interest : " Tliere is ;iiiotlier (laii-liter "f hers.
who is now in Scotlan.l. S!,e is very nuieli like her mother, whoso
picture hanps up in hiH (Coiiuin's) study. She must have heen a most
lovelv \N(iniun. Her countenance speaks her a woman who would daio
to think and act for lierself."
Gi»lwin Will
/.V7/;<j/)fr/7o.v
,1.1 slioitly .-.'iis.- an.l thiil I."' ^v^
XXXlll
uld ii'tiirii to
tii.lc of comi.liaiicc k:
IV I!
1'
,1 f,.r liiT iiiiitfi
SlifU.'V :i wrotiu' i">-
ial vv, Ifa..'. :ui.l witli-
,lri \v ui
til ;i i'liliii'j, I
li.it all woul.l li" ^vi'll. ai
,1 that llanift
coiicun III
\v;is nil
M till'
i)iir*<
ho lia.l ivM.lv.l to pmsi.
That 1
lit)
AaU-u intliissiii.posi
tioii inaili- llanift
.iiort'
(r| liVOU'^.
l„il l.oth Slu-lU'V ai
.1 M
;irv
lo^s only the
I that
hrl
H'Vi
thi- ni'W union was
to I
ifove
he>.l not ni'i'i'ly
Iv for ihi-iii hilt
fur liiirri.'t as wi
Slii'Hi'V <'oii
11 whose '• iiileitsls
as hi' coiicfivt
veil tlit'iii,
^laiilly ctHisnlti
1. On -luly *^«. l«ll' ^^'''y
(;,mKviii ami l*''>-''y
HvssliL S'..'ll.-y, a.Moinpani.'.
1 hy Clara
Jan
('
aiiMiion
it. hfl
Lon-hm for th'eC"....tiuent, an.l the ni'
xt
,lav. at Calais, the poet wrote m
his j
oiiiiia
.1: «'SuJilenly the
hroa.l sun ri»^' <
,vi-r Kranci,
Thf toin
that followed was a
of fiinils ami
laste.l. howev.
hy (lilU.'ultif
T. Shellev am
hrief one, .-ut short hy lack
;,;.'isin- in Knglan.l. While it
1 Marv ha. I .>])portiinit\
,IV to reah/.e
the stren
:tl
1 an.
1 virtue of tlu'ir love, i
n a
time of physie
ami mental stress.
Spe
din;^ hnt a few day.s i
Paris, they
l'<
occe.
1,.,1 on f..ot (Mary ri
.11
iiL' a .
lonkev) toCharenton.
There thev rejilaee
lth..i,"littlel.easthyastnr.lym.ile.an,l..n
real
■hini: Troves hoii-ht an open carnat;
Bv these means,
after many annoyanee
thev :<t l.Mi^Mh arrive.
am
.1 at Uriinnen
)n Lake Lueerne
1 at Neuehatel,
:„ route Shelley had
wri
tten to Harriet, ur;,;in;4»'-r torn.
ot them in Switzerland,
in.
.1 a>siuini
lier of his intention to renia
in her friei
d. At
Hiunneii he hc<,'an
the f
ragmen
,t entille.l The .l.s.S'^s•.s(/^s,
roinan
tie tale of s.mie pow
er.
After a hrief stay here an
Lm-eriie, the travt
■Hers tnriie.l honiewai
.foil
am
1 the Rhine
The beauty of the hitter river, from Mayenre
.iwint: the ii.
M:
d at
Icuss
to Uonii, f^reatly impn
<se.
il Shellev an
settin
n- of A lost or. Unite id am was i
I intlneneed the seenu^
I Septemher 8,
fac'ie.
an
lUce attain a
il London o
Durini' th.' remainder
week lat.'r,
,f the veal
Shell
cv am
«n
tY.re.l
ser.o
uslv fi-om the
ant of income. J
(1 Mary
iVlthonj^li
Godwin indig
.lignaiAly refused to condone Shelley', cour.e
he
.!)!
1
>
xxxiv
7.vy7.'o//r(;7';o.v
frufly a.r.'pt.Ml inoncv fiou. hi> <ca..t pnrsc .-UkI ov.n a>k..l
for liioiv 'n.tro i. uncon>nous <liMinati. in.ny lurk.n- n, a
j.assauv r-uH-rvnin- G.Mhvin in one -.1 Shrlley-s early Ittor-
t,. mT-s HitcliMHr: -Hi' rfinaius uiicl.au-.'.l. I l.avo ih
soul-.'hiir.ng alU'ration U> rcn.nl nf l,i> •■haractor. ' HaiTM-t.
too. uas \o>\n'4 iKUi.nc.. an.l trouMin- l-th Ma'lU'V and t!,e
G.ulu ins with iiHMvasi,.-a..n.an.ls. On NovcMulu-r IK) .>h- -.-ut
birtl> to a l.ov. (M.arU-s UvssliL.. ulu>. with lantho, was soor
to U.-oVA. i\u- Mihi-'t «.f ChancH.ry lili-ation. IVacork wa.
provhi- him rlt au c.M frion.l ; Fanny G.Mw.n wa. >cnrtly
Uin.l;l>nl iur the in..st part Shelhy an.l Mary were hi
severely alone save iur the e.-niiKiniun-hil. of Ilo--. uho
,.alle,l often, and Jane Clairniont (Claire), who .hThned to
ivti a iionu, (hnnivorous rea.lin- .sola.n-a the evil tune. -^ -
Anaereon. Colerhl-e. Spenser. lU'ron. Browne of A'orwn-h.
Glhl.on. Go.Kvin, etc. Claire, alert an.l olive-lnu.l. otten
ai>turhe.l the hunseh.,M uith her f.-ars an.l .louhts .•oneern-
in- the s.ii.ernatnral. an.l th.'V were n..t unreh.ve.l to -ee
luT.lepart. in Mav. ISlT.. for a stay in Lynniouth. M.elley.
for his part.ha.l oth-.r fears, an.l was n..w nn.vm- fr..ni
spot . ■ >pot in L..1. l.in. prohrti, ; himself as he nn-ht
a. 0- • ..le vi'.ilanee ..f tl,o hailiil's. The new yar hr.m-ht
important .-han-es. Sir lU-slu- passe.l away on Jannary (.
Mr. Timothv Slullev lK,-.'ame a haroi.et in ins stea.l. an.l
the poel snc-.'-ee.le.l his fath.r as heir-apparent t., the title an.l
a ..reat estaf. He went down t.) Fiel.l Pla.v. hut was n..t
^vcd.■ome.l. Ihe (,uesnon of entail a-ain came up, an.l
thomdi Shellev deelined to chanjre his attitude, he was wdl-
i,„.- to s, 11 his'own reversion. Eventually he planned to .lis-
jmse of his Interest in a small part ..f the pn.perty f.u' an
annual ine..m.. of £10(10 during the joint survival of his
fath.-r an.l himself, hut Chancery would not later pern.it
this plan to he reali/.e.l. M.nn'y was a.lvanc.Ml to ni.'et Ins
nn.st j.ressia- nee.ls. an.l it is worthy of note that he n.i-
lue.lialidy s.tth.l l"'-'00 a sear upon llirriel, a like sum
haviu'r lifcn centiniu'.l hy Mr. W.sihrook.
ISTllohi'VTloS
XXXV
Slu'lU'y"
lieuUli ha.l .)f l:ito Ir'cohu- seric'sly hnpauT.
and was not iiiiiivuvf(
(U-atli. >'ai(
I l.v ihi' >li'>ck (•()iisLMii,>nt ui><>n the
taut, hardlv luoi'o tliaii
(•). .if Maiv"s in>t 11
a fort 111:
;ht old,
an
I
continued
aliiMiatioM o
f Godwin,
whom lie
was
aidiiii; s
lettiTs very pat i. mi
teadily. lie l)oie (Godwin's l)ittor
iinal outlireak of feoli.ig :
tlv save for one
IjoUS
'• Do not talk of ,/:wv//'-'^«r,s-,s- ai^ain to me. lor my n <
i,. „.vveln.. and niv ^all vises against all that bears the
,„.,„ '.^ f, „,,.,. when I think of wliat I. H.eir benetaetur and
ardent lover, have endured of enmity and eontempt rom
vol an.l from all mankind." A trip of several days dnra-
L. np the Thaines Lo Leehlade. in the eompjuiy of Mary
Pe.eo'k. and Charles Clairmont, Claire's brother, dnl uundL
to restore the poet to health an.l t^ood spirits. On his return
to lii.lu.p.,nue he conceived and that antnmn wrote the
,„ovin, nn^latory poen,. Al.s^or. the first ot Ins really snro
and vital works, published the following; March. 1 eace-
fnl months foUowe.l. of study and compo<lt^i"". -hose sun-
shine was nnule the brighter bv the birth of ^\ lUnun, Mary s
sec.md chihl.,Ianuarv*-'4. ISlC. I'mt (Jo.lwin's attittule. the
coldness of others, and the failure of the lawyers satis ac-
,.,il, to adjust financial matters.-he was a,a,n depeiiden
„,,on his father's voluntary advances, - led She ley to hoed
the invitati.m of a voice of uhose charms be conld no on^v
W i„.enMble. It was Swit.erland-s re.-all of bin, that Jib
heard and ob^xe'l- Bvron. wlu.in he had not yet met. but
^^■^■wllm.^CTaire bad become only too well acquainted, was
soon to arrive in Geneva, and the infatuated j^-'U keeping;
1,.. secret from Shelley and Mary, asked and was permitted
^ to become one .f the partv. Early in May. IMO, the tno
with little William, started ai^ain for Paris. I hev reacl- \
Geneva about the Uth. and shortly alterwanl l.yr- - --
peared. The two poets, tliou-b associated as contempu...,
lapostles of revolution, were vet of verv dilYer-nt tibres -
iJvion. p. 1, pa-n.nate. iitf.llv pm po -ve. lik.- an alien
binl oaring n.l tbMT-^ ••'"- ♦" ^■^^'"' ^ ^klz.li^'
xxxvi INTRODUCTION
luniiiious. mild, sinwulventiirlng. sailin.,' the iipi)er ether of
thou<,'lit iind h)ve with tense hut tireless \viii|;s. Eueh '"iievv
the other for a poet, — Siu-lley h:is drawn the two portriiil-^
f(ir n-. in Ji'li")i mi'l Mnlilulo. ami tlley.^lleut ea<,'er hours
to-elhcr and with I'oli.lori, li i^n's yoiiii^' An-lo-!:)diaii
])l:y>ician, (•nnsin;j; ah,)at the lak.^. or exi)loriiii,' ii ''oii-s.
During tiiis time liyron wrote somi' of tlie ia-st >taii/.as
of his C /(!/'/<; J/nrul,/, Slalley conceived his M<nif lUmic
and Hilinn to IntelhHuid Ikantii. an.l Mary hegan her
famous romance. /'/v/z/Arz/.s^'i'//. inspired hy a gliostly con-
versation between the j.oets and Polidori. The Shelley
grmij. hail meanwhile secured a cottage near Coligny, and
IJyrun was living at the Villa Diodati. While they cinMim-
navigated the lake. Uyrun ])roduced UU J'risn/ier of C/iil-
lon and Shelley stored up countless memories of joy and
beautv. After a visit of high emotion to Chamouni. Slielley
and Mary receive<l a rather nudaiicholy letter from Fanny
Godwin, and a month later left Geneva for Versailles,
Havre, and Portsmoutii.
The year IS 10 was a fatal one for several of Shelley's
friemls and connections. Tiie ch-ath of Sir Bysshe was fol-
lowed during the autumn hy those of Fanny Godwin an.l
Harriet Shelley, eaidi of tliese women dying hy her own
haml. Fannv. who had heen growing of late more and more
dejected, feeliuL, the unUindnessof her stepmoliier ind other
relatives, an.l deprived of the immediate counsel of Shelley
and Mary, .leci.led that she was a useless cund)erer of the
gr.)und, and t.)..k laudanum at Swansea. Octoher 10. She
liad written oidv a week earlier an atfectionate letter to
Marys wlm with Shelley was now staying at Bath, in which
all her thoughts nnselfishly went out to the welfare of God-
win and the Shell.'ys. Tiiese wei'e her sincere mourners.
•Our f.M'lIngs are less tumultticus than dee])." wrote G.xhvin
to Marv: and she t.> Shelley, who went to Swatisca sutVer-
in- great anguisli .d' spirit: '-It she had lived until tliis
moment, she would have been saved, for my house would
ISTUODl'CTION
xxxvu
1 fT-liPv" Two months later
t,en have been a proper -^ ^l ^ '^ 1^; ,i„e River, after
^''''>-^>'''*^^^"tri^ ^^^'ehaLvenas
, .Usap,H"avan.-e of ^^'^ '^ ,, .^,, „„.,;,„,. a.ul now. wUU
an.ionsly.thathen.,laveu. ^> -
father a.ul si>ter .n.eve.l ^^^^^ ^ j ^ .„^,,,. ,,,e t.uk the
unwllhn, h.n,ertotovwanlh.^uM nu^^.^^^^^^^^^^_^^^^^^^^ .
,,„naiy, she felt at la . ^^^^^^ l,enetieent apph-
soeial views were not eapaW <^ .naerstoo.l it. seen.ea
cation to concrete cases. L. ve, a. ,.,„i„,,H.e. Yet
her aeath was tar les. the spe U ^^ .^^ ^^^^. ^^^^.^^
^^^-^^'^•'r^' ;r;: '---^- l ren.rse. we n.ay
he cannot he saul to have ^^i^_ ^^^ ^^^ .^^^,^,,^^^1 he^inumL^s of
hvit'tly conipare, m pa»" ,.• - j^^. untimely
Shelley with those of h.s «>-;':;; ^^, .,,,, Harriet's.
I closing of the waters ov..Sl^^^^^^^^^^
; We mn^t pass rapuUy o^e^the ^^^^^^^^^1^ ^^^ ^^^^^ trienaslnps,
ent events ..f this ^^^T^ ^^ ,^,.„,,,u, literary encour-
^••'^^''^ 7 Tn:^ y t r > H.;. the reconciliation of
ac^ement of hhelley l.J l^ V. ,,,,,nonv ..f marriage
Ooawin to the poet^ ana tl. * ^ .^,.^ ^^..^ch, London,
WtweenSlK -y and Ma.j at M. .
DtM-emher 30. , Charles Bvsshe. had
,.,„. c»,o „f w» -i.-.w-"- '»■■■';',,„ ;„uu...i ...
„„,,iet Uy U,.-.v (a.l,.... «vl,.. ";;;;,.,„..„!.,, ,,y .We
of H»n.i.. I the »;•";» ;'\;^" ,,„,,,■. ,„,l,rin«.,.B .n,l
education ; while ftlieuey f.
.■il
XXXVIII
I.\Ti;()I)[T-[oy
yns.,ust,,..,I,nl,.nnn. Hani,.,. :„„1 ,l,n, I,, ha.l si„..Mlnt
''''"'";";':• "— ^li- Ml.In.ntn.n. l,i,„ .nnvlv on ....-
'""!'■' Ill'' 'MM' U, -IS,!, ,,.,■, I, .(I
;;illi>! l>..th p;iili,.s. r,,,,,l
'''■-•--U''-^-nMlH.<.,.,.,Wyor,l,..,.l,H,l,..,,,,,,,,,,,,s,,^
S ell... I<..,,,v ,..,, ,,,, inins,i....,„,e,j,.,„n.enM.„t,n.o:
'n''l.-vf.n..att,tn,!. ,!n...,.,I.o„t ,1,.. ,,.o,......li„.s. 1)„ ;„ ,
^ -•'-■•''■-• Man. ui,,.n,.,, Hum Wniia,..:!;
tlir iiK.st part rcsi,!,.nt at .AFar
ow oil til,. 'I'liaincs. II,. fore
Ho.^;..S..uU,..ho.,....a,.eaHo..f..^^
At.M., i,.u l''-iH.„t niorc. tl.ni a yi.ar of In.sv au W.lnn
;;;:';: '•"^•7""'-;"— as. ,.„... he p..o.i,....,,a^^
t ..,Knnpin..,sa,M,.o..„.s.so,.K.,....„onst,.anNinostoJ.J
X. . ^;../ ^.M..,_ af,.nvanl T/. L'eroit ./■/./,.;,!:
a St rnn^- an,I ,.Io,p,ent pioplu...: "f tlie triumph of the
^'.n <>* ... an,l lil...,.ali,y. - I Ikivo attenipt.l. ' ho ..o^
M-M.sh... •■inthopi.o.n.ssof „., ,,,,H. ,. .,,,,^
to the eo.nnion ..h.nienta.y emotions of ,1„. 1 , '
'1^ "f the luiMian heart
|^...ua.,p,,,u,sthes,o,.yofvioleneean,|,vvol.,,ion.iti
.H.v.li,y„.ae,.p,et.n..offnen.i.,npa,:,|,.,v..andnat,,,.
ilins. \\,lha,n Baxter, an.l Horaee Smith, i„.si,les Claire
-. he ,,len,.u..ome,..C'ia,.aAlh..,.a.,a,,h,e..ofHv.
A;tnen,lan,l 1-1|-. the po... ..f Ma.h.u kneu- and love.l
nni. (,nSep,e,nl,e..li.lS17.aft..Ml,eeonipletio„of/V:ri
--V..^ath„.dchiiaua.honitoSl.lley naMary,wh a
iNTnonrcTTox
XXXIX
thov nanu'd Clara Kvciiiia. (J.i.hviirs wfll-knowii iinvcl.
M,i iKlfrillr. apiicarcil during,' NovrmUrr. and Slicll.'v <'<)r-
ic-ixiiidrd freely willi its aiitlioras licith a.liiiii'ini; crilic and
I'lirvc-djH'iier.
•• 1 tliiiils we i>ii'4!il to iui ti) Italy.' ui'otc I'eslle-;-; Shelley
t'l .Marv late in iSlT.ai'ter nuieli eaiiu n! diseussinn nt ways
and means. Sludley's t'ailin- health, medical advice. Mary's
(e.vn ineliiialion, and tiie desire to help Claire toward an
n!iiler>tandini,^ with Hyron, all cuiisiiired to this end. Marcli
VJ, ISIS, saw the travellers once a;;ain — for Shelley now
the last time — leavim; the ancient clitVs of D'ver for Calais.
Had the poet known that he was to see his native land no
\\\<>\\\ his heart would have i^^one out t.) her in a hi,ij;li son<r
of farewell, for di'spite his jjassionate desiiv to eoni])ass the
reform of nr.iny of her laws and iiistitntiosis. his life and
letters at manv points all'ectionately attest the stren[,nli of
his love for p^ni;land.
The four closini,' years of Slu .ley's hrief life were the
hajipiest and most productive. Indeed, had these heen
denied him, his works would hardly have won large place
in tjie memories and alVections of men. Animation was iiis,
hiij,dit and hreatliless ; power was his, earnest and unmis-
takahle ; hut time and i)lace were yet to hiin<4 their calm
and their counsel to his too ai,nfated spirit. What the clear
sunny skies of Italy hail done for Chaucer and Alilton, what
they were to reveal to HrowniiiLC and liis lyric love, they
were now ahout to <;ive to Shelley in ahundant measure,
and thereaftei to keep protective watch above his clover-
clustered Roman orave.
The passat^^e of the A1|)S was safely achieved, and tlie
tir.vellers reached Milan, April 4. Thence Shelley and
IMary ])roceeded to the Lake of Como. hut. disappninied hy
tiieirc()ntinue(l failure to find a suitable abode, they ret\irned
■o Milan, shortly gathered their little flock together, and
pressed on to Pisa and Leghorn, not, liow(!ver. liefore Claire
liad satisfied the demand Byron made from Venice that she
i
'4.
3
Si
. 1 t
: 1
«:::''i:lvt:';;:'";;:,;";, i'r"':^';-AT,„„„.™
of Claire, wl.o.n Sln-H.-vat len t ' '"'';"'"''' ■'"•"""^^
«^o Hvn.n an,l Allo.ra PI 7 ■'"■" "J*''^"""' to Venieoto
ilv. who r..,.nv..,I fh ■ „•.• ' f '•""sul-genen.r.s fa,„.
■ J'T alone vi.i, , ,:* ^ 7'^ "';' .^'^^^ ''-Pi^^lity. S,.,.
si.-iievjl;;' r 't- r'r;i "rr'^:^^^-' ■- '"-i ^-
o, .;:r::;",r "' -"■■■ ^ ""■ «".— Hm s ;;:
..^-..a.enJ:'';;:;,,^:-:::--,,;:™^.;;™.....
."■■«■.-....... ..1 -ti,,:.,, u-wLJ ,;:'"'-••■•■:"'
>■«,„■„ ,„ K„„ „,„, t,,„ ,,,.,, .live;,' fAl" . ,,""■ " '"'"
I.\TU(>!>l(Tli>.\
xli
sot '^nutluvavd for Nai.los. \hvv. n..twitl,stnn.lin- liis hope
„f imi'i'-vi'm.'nl. a <U'.'l. <!c.irrti..n, Imtli pliv^ical aiul spint-
„;,KM>i/..Ml upon Sl.cllcy, an almost Han.let-liki' s.-iisc of isola-
tion, troin wli id i 1h' < 11(1 not w.-ll ivc. v. t until tin- <arly spring.
It was now resolved to vi>it Unnie. when" they liad spent
l)Ut a week '-n matr to Naples, and the coinplotion uf tlu'ir
lirst year in Italy was si-nali/e.l l.y tlie entranee of the pil-
..rin.s i.ito the Eternal City. They foun.l themselves now
somewhat less lonely; acpiaintanee.s ealle.l ; steady readin-
went on ; and interested visits were paid to the Vatican.
Villa Uor-rhese. I'antheon. and Capitol. In the remote and
solitary nmn.enls of his fre.pnnt walks .ihoiit the ruins of
the Haths of Caracalla. Shelley almost completed his great
lyrical drama. Pronieth>'us riihonm/, among at once the
g<Mitlest and proudest vindi.-ations of the human spirit. He
felt his in.'\itahle way to the symholic heart of this nohle
mvth, as imagined and made vital not only hv J'><'hvlu8
and others, hut hy the high instinct of man he had himself
developed. Here Shelley's ,.rime idea of the self-saving •
and self-justifying l)ower of Love reaches its surest and
most elevated expression.
A long reaction and an anticipation of evil to come led
the poet'to long again for at least a hrief visit to England,
'•out of pure weakness of heart." The temperamental
harometeri.rove.l true. On June 7 William, the most f.m.Uy
cherished of the children, passed away. Tlie En .lish hury-
ing-ground. hard-hy the I'orta San Paolo, received the little
hodv. and Shelley an-l Mary were left .lesolate in.leed. The
nnith'er-s melancholy, in truth, hecame s.) intense that Slielley
de.ided upon Le-horn and Mrs. (iishorne as the place and
person most suited to her at the moment, aiul rented. a.'c<u-.I-
ingly. the Villa Valsovano there. He himself had urged his
ihMii.tful steps throimh many a glo.)m, and felt for the thric-
hereaved mother no less than he felt with her. '• Wo must
all weep on these occasions," wrote Leigh Hunt to Mary.
" and it is hotter for the kindly fountaiii.s within us that we
il
i-l
; I
Xill
isinohi <i i().\
sliniil.I. .M
••alliicsf :iii,| iinist air
'V ynl, U-,.,.,, ,,„i.tly. l.Ut nut Io„;r; ; ,„,,,^. „,
-inrit tliat conies out ol tli
'■(•tMiiat(
<'<'iit(in|il.ii!iiii ot -Teat t)
llKwt 1,1, s.,. I l,,.,,i,l
'i'i,'-;->. .'111,1 ill,. |,,v,. ,,f ;,ll
""■ .^J •■11. 'v rca.I .•111.1 tl„,i|Ml
l'"ii v. Ml.- \V],..M Marv uoul
:i\' li!
ii I'c iiiiich
t'Vi-i. a.lvcii
tiiriiiL^r tliroiit,^!, Daiit... |
'' :i-. r;i)M(l!\ am!
IS |.M'Trl\'
and nraisin ■ t!i,. S'
xiccacci,,. ami ("alder
"M.
'aiiisli (li-i:nati I will
tluiMaMM. \„,v tr.n. 1„- finisl|,.,l
• Iraina. Th
1 <lis('r,mnritiM!'
• •11-
llls (IWII ,1
I' ■ rii
rcaiiiip' ail
'■'. <'(iiic( ivi'd liiurc tl
:\is. at I.,.-|
'•'piv sfiriiii
i.'iii a
year I'dorr. at
ttr
)>'<>(•(! portrait ot iJ, atric
I lli.s IHudllcti,,!!. touch,.,!
iiiLT and of diainatic •■ I
liilldlT.s ll,,. |,,,|.l,
<'!' luitf and
.^■iii>ni. and vicwinj^r (iuid
ill tl"' Cnlomia I'alacu at 1
" S >I|I|-
inllli'
• IISlllC:
as it IS With vv(
the d
illCS^t's of
pliras-
raiiialist soiiictiiiit
'>y'tcoiii|,ai:il.I(., asastiidv in tl
villan
If sjiirlt
iiiiil IJrouii
I'>falii(.|' luiiii the li-iaii
'J'lic liill
It coiitaitis tl
y. -Illy uuh ,ShaU..s,u.an.-s Un-hanl HI
'li'l'lr.; „|,!1,. C"(M'doli;:.
I act is ),v t;i|. tl
II' ■■ ticnu.ndoiis (.n.l.
LTicat Women in J.;,,
iiiovf |Hi\vcrfiil, not
iiilMlia, ai:(,
.lisli J)Octl\-,
"lll\- Ir.cail-
lere a ni-h untcltciT.,! \vi
lilt liccaiisc Slhl
''V l•al^
rani'c.
ii;,;' 111 soul crit
"■'^'11 and dramatic
In Fl(
Shell
(■V
iiil: andstatiiarv
it'iiff.wJa.i,. the autumn of ISl'Jfound tli
iHM.tmany .lays vJMii,,:; tlH.j^reat-allenesuf
tiiiMii,di '.vith i
'■III settled,
Jiaint-
iHTcasi
"oveinlK
v\
!• 1-;i last child
oifiK'c. ulu. survived l.otli his father aii.l
J"'>ite.l tiie iKiiouctcy. 'i'he ,.revailin.r d
'i.iT pliysical unrest. On
1^ I'lirn to him. christened P,
iiiotli(.|.. ami it
ert'i
l.tnd. wit
this time tli-
vv-hich .Shellev deep]
scoiitent ill Kiic-
y syiiijiatiiized
UlIlL,^ of his Sntvjs lUld /*,
•fasioiied at
fi
'/ /'J/i;//a/H/. and his JLisunc of' J
n jioiso hut revohilioi
'Sn/i
/n'ra/ r
tic.-itise. J /'//,
of Kuiijii.Ies' T.';r c,/,./,
act of
lie / ri)i//i
tl,
'in> j.r iJir Me,i
••iikI a Ihoii-htful
■'«• A translation
'"" of an additijiial
larv imiiiil
't U>'t:
'/>■■<. the ci.,.ai
to tl
' ''S. and tilt
1 tl
'•""athiii- of the ^,,1
ynr nu-antat.on to the spirit of tl,e West Wind, all he]
ilol I V
1.- ^ncit creative year. It
lUI.""
i.s iiileieslin- to note the luval
i
1
I.\Ti:<)l)i(Tl()\ xllii
liniiiaii intcri'st SIicllcv tnnk diiriii ,^ this winter in Ills fiiciiil
Krvilrv's |iriii.ctcil ^tc;uii>lii]i. an intiTist lliat ilid not lii'si-
t;itr til provide ill-tn-lie-v]i;ireil e\ lor tile advancement
dl' what was almost a t'ore(h)omeil failure. The extreme ccdd
(,f eaiK .laniiai), JS'-'H, diove him at l-n-tli t^ l'i>a. whef.'
nio-t n|' hi> time was theneel'oi-tli to he -pent. A -mail t;ion|)
ot' trienils eheered Shelley and Mary here. diiiinLT the tVw
intervals not '^^iven over to study ;iiid coiniiosli inn. — Iriends
not iinwflcome, >ince the (ii-hornes and Ileiii-y IJevelev
were now leavini; tor Kn-laud. 'I'hoii-h the pott's heallli
was lopoiidinL; I'avoiirahly to tlu' ehaie^e ol' elimale. (.iod-
w ill's nioiKitonous emharrassmi iits and demands preyed upon
jiis -pirits. and he was ohli^fed to protect Mary irom lull
knowledge of her father's rapacity. Tlieri' wci'e other >oiirces
of perplexity and even aii'j,ir that -reatly di-tiirhe<l tlio
Sludlevs at this lime. — a '^mms-Iv iiiilalr attacl< upon th«
iioet in the (Jici r''c! ij /I'l-inr. and a -candal spiead ahr.iad
hv :i vicious Ncrvaiit wliicli it took some lime to (duck and
refute. With the ailvent of midsummer the iieat 'j,rc\v so
intense that ;i move was made to tlie ]>rotVered home of
till' ahsent (lishornes, Casa Kicci. in Le^honi. wiiero — fid-
lowiiiL,' the I'isan lyric. The C/oinl — tlie (hlr fo a Slaj-
hirk was written. l*rohahly the music of the Spenserian
Alexandrines, for he iiad h)ni,^ hived tlie Fnrrhi Qui'p.ue,
rani; in Slielh y"s ears as he penned tliis exuUin;; yet vefrret-
fiil crv. Anioii'4 tlie other poems of iSL'O are the Lftti'i'
ti> Muri'i Cis'ionii'. Thr Si-nsiticr Plmit. The ]l'ifr/i of
Atl'i^i. lliiiiii) ii) Mercin-ij, Uile to L'lhci'tij. and Oilf i<^
y.iji/fs. l>v Au-tist the heat was unhearahle. and another
chani;e was made to the Haths of San Giuliano di Pisa.
Shelley's interest in Kurojiean jiolitlcal conditions was
acute, and lie wat(died with keen solicitude the course of
the revolutions in Spain and Naples, greatly rcj:rettin<r the
eventual success of the Austri.ans in restoriuL;' th(> false
Neaiiolitaii kiny;. During; the early months of IS'il he
ui.Miilit :ind found social reinforcement of his view's. The
I H
m
n
■I
i!
xliv
T\Tl:()I)l-f'TlO.V
(;i>lM.rnrs wriv Ka.k. tl.oi.-li a liv.lv iMlMiiHl..i-taM.liMu prc-
V(-iitf(| an cailv iviwwiA ui .,1.1 li,, ; a.i.l 'I'lDnias .M,..i-
wiii. fJM. p.i.i's ,.,.nsii, ati.l f,.rm.T NclM,nl,iiat(". lia.l toiiii.l
Ills nut t M, u..l..,,MH' uav t., I'isa. ( )v,r against th.'s.- «as
Ihr liiirr inl.^lli-rn,.,. an. I .xall.'.i snirit ..I tl,,. (',,v,-k jia-
tiii.l. Alixan.l.T .Mavin.M.nlat.,, t.. uhnin Sli,l|..v's pioplifti,.
Wiania. //r/A/.v. wa. ait.Tuai-.l ,I..,lirat.Ml ; thV fin.,ss,,. „f
Fr.m. •,■>(•<, I'a.vlii.ini. a l'i>an a.M.l..mlciai; ; the ......l-nalniv.l
va|M,Iitv „r C.unl 'I'aalV..; tl,.. ,>ki!l„l in,, .-uvivati.Mis .,f the
fain..iiN Soii.vi; an.l th.- path.-ti.' .luian. f 1 !„. ( '..ntc^sina
Kmilia Viviani. I,fl,.v,-(I alike l.y Slnll.T. Maiv, an.lClaire.
C.Muleii.ne.l, Willi Iht sIsI.t. t.. the strict s.^luMon of a coii-
vnt lit,, hy ;i j,.;,l.,iis >t..i .In .it h(T un.l ail in.IltVeiviit father.
Kmilia was in evil eas... an.l this, with h.r ex.,ni>ite i.,veli-
iie,-. s.. wr,.u-ht n|H,n SlH.ll,.y's iina-inali..ii that he s.,uoht
'■nntiniiaily t.. .l.-liv... ' ,,• r,„„, th,. In|.,ie,.an..,. h.. ha.fso
c.tt,.ns....m-e.l „f „h|. li,. |„.,,„ne h.-' •• ra n> n-of^f/o '' nud
.Alary her -dearest, sister.- The profoiin.l thoii-h jiassin^r
inlh.enci exerte.l ..p..n .Sh..lley hy her eharac-ter and situ-
atinti is a],i.ar(.nt in his /■.'/'l/tsifr/in/inn. " It ks." |,e wr.ite
U> (iishorne. after many m..nti.s. •• an i(l..ali/.e.l history „f
my life ami fe,.lin,^rs. J think o.n. is always in love with
s..rnethin- or other ; the error — an.l I ....nfc'ss it is not easy
for .spirits cased in ilesii ami hlij.nl to avoid it — consists ili
seeking in a mortal imaj;,. the likeness of what is, perh.aps,
eternal/' The "isle iin.ler I.,niau skies," an idea which'
lia.l so stron.^ a Ih.ld np.m Sli,.ll,.y's fan-.y,' ns „jM,n the
youthfnl I'.r..wnin'.'s.-h..re achi..v,.< its ri.^'ht p<.,.tic value.
Kmilia married at last a Sinn,,,. Hiondi. and live.l h.it a
brief an., checkered life. It was littin- though almost acci-
' Cf. letter of An-nst. ISl'1. to Mary : '• Mv j^^r.-af^st content xvonl.l
be ntt-ilv to .l..s,.rt alii, nni.-in society. I u,.nl,l n.fire with you an.l
o.u' clnl.l to a soJiraiv isl,..„l in tl,.. s..;, an.l l,„il,l a boat, -uul sl.nc
ni._on n,v >..„vat the floo.l^at..s of the world." VL also I'rometheus
1\ . IV. 2iill. L(ll. '
^ Cf. I'ippa I'assts. ii, ;ii4-;;L'T.
\
lyrnonccTioy
xlv
<
.l.iitivl that at tliis time Slidli-y sliouM put into critic:!! fnrm
1,1s UVVM liulil.- tlhi.iy nf \u„[\\. puLli-licd aft.r lu> <lc:itl,.
S.K.ii iiitiT Ihc .l.p.irtmc nt ('!:iiiv. \s!h.u:i- imw rn-.i-cil
ii, luiuiinu' cnt.iiii youh^ Kluii-nliiMs. lliciv arrive! m Pi>a
fiiriuis „t M.auiii. i.iciit.naht K.l\v;,nl Kllil<cr Wiillai.is
;,,h1 his wile .lane. '111.' ShrllcvN l'"th lni>K;iti.! an. I wife,
were imii'li plcascl with t' iicwcoiiicrs. wIk. in heir tiini
attachc.l llitMu.sdvi's with >yiii|.atiiy aiul iin.h'istaii.liiiLC to
tlirir tVll..w-cxih-s. Witli WilhaiiiH and It^^vrlcy the pc't
uuald sail tlic Ain.) i-i a lii^lil Artlnman >hallo|.that on on*
cxcitini,' i)cca>i()n sud.h-nly ovciM't, nearly ending Sliolh-y,
tile n..n-swinuner. then and tlu're. Nulw ith,.tandin<; tiiis
mishap his love fur ntnitical excursions L;rew into a pa-ion,
nearly everv day found him on the water, and on May 4,
he even undertook a venturesome excursion with Keveley
from the mouth ()f ihe Arm. lo Le<;horn. In San Giuliano
the case was notdilVerent. and it was here, indeed, that The
llnnf nil fill- Srrrh!'> was horn. Here also was produced
the last of SlieUey"s completed major poems, A</(>ii(iii, writ-
ten in memory of Joim Keats.
UponheariiiLJuf Keats'rt illness and of his arrival in Italy,
Shelley ha.l urt,'ed him to accept the invilallon to IMsa he
had previously extended, hut i)oor Keats was already struf^-
i^lint; with death, and yielded himself at Rome. Fehruary
L'.'i 18*21. Shelley received the news some weeks later,
ju'ohahly in a letteV fn-n. Ent;la!<d. and he-an almost imme-
diately to hrood his ele^y. He had not known Keats well,
had variously estimated his work, and had scarcely sympa-
thi/.ed with his consumini; passion for his art. Indeed, he had
written Keats an earnest word concerning,' his own free-
dom from " system and mannerism," instancin-; the Fro-
»ni/ict(S and T//'; Cenr.i Over-re-ularity he had sou-ht to
avoid. •' I wish those who excel me in L,'enius would j.ursuo
the same plan." And Keats had ^rood-humonredly replied :
" An artist must serve Mammon ; he nmst have ' self-con-
centralion ' — seltislmess, perhaps. You, I am sure, will for-
■ •■ '
i
^ t
t
!i
•'^'^' IXTL'oni-fTloX
?iv-.n,. f..rMM....nIyr..M,;irkin,. ,|,,„ , „„ ,„1,1., ,„,!, ,.„,,
".':'"""""""-^'' '""• '-■ -•""■'• "' :." :,r,i t. :,n,| |,.:„1 ,.;„,v
'•'•• -'• vunr .,.i,j,.,, uMl, ,„,..■ Sh,.l|,.v,li,| ,„„ ,„,rl, ,1-
"'" '";"';:■•' "'' ••"■:-,.v,„i,.„t ^.., .'• i,,. ,i„.,,,.,/,.;,.
r'"""""' '•■•"- 'l-"^;li l-t.ul,.,| t.. „n,|,.,.Ma,Mll,i,n. ai„l „
.^M,:.,U.r.,„. h..,.. ,,„■..,,, 1k„ .li..u,.p,...K.l,.....,..,. .,■„,..
7':"'""," '■"'•• — -:.! th,.,o,.l,.„.lv:.r,.us,.,| ,,.
"' ";7'"--''"l-' 'in.laH ■•unl„„_...,„ „„,.„..
l-....l.:,.VHn..,„.,ll...li, H.n,;,,,:,^... I, ..,,,.,1. ,1... .l..,.ps
;;;';■;'!'•/'■'■ '--•^•^'■•■^i-ii...to,. .n..,,,,.;, ,,„.,.,•
•'7 "',";'"!• ••'-■'•>l--.ll.v-un .- un... Sl...l|,.v
V.Tc i.MiM tu an iimiinitalilv uf „l,li\ i,„i.••
A (.,.,- :, H vi,,^ vIm, to Kl.,..,,,-... I,„„.,.l„.„,i,„„„ l,,,,,i^
""•onu-e Smuh. uho ua> .l..S.,Hlin, hiu. a^vainM ,.alu,nni,.s
'"'";'7"''" "I""' ""■ I'i'ai..,! >... ,ii,,.„io„ of <,>..,,, ,/„/;
;'''':''••••■''''■''• '•-■''•-il^^ to read. Italy. SlK.lh.v iounu.v..,i
-.xu.ava,a.,.,ha,, l.,.l,„.„ in la.,, .f not in niti 1,..
' ^'" ^'""-^- .'^-' '"• 1^--' "' H.v-u's iH.Hi.iv in failin.
'•-IT''-^ -n,l.,.,l anaally n,in^ ^ .vpoH. a.aiusl Sl...i:
'V, :T'~' I'-'i-'v -.■hi.1,.,...1 wlu.n iu3 cin..a....| vvt
--'•''-'-■'vn-,,,M^.IIo,,nn..aniu,..,antJ,.n.,.;-,.i,l..n
<" '"■•■'■.;• Mary. -I, i. ,1,„„„|„, ,|n.tl,er I,. u-on!,l hav.
'■o'lsent..,! to Mi.ct Bv.on a'^ain \s ii u-, 1 i' i n-
• ,, • '-,•""; -is 11 \\a-. Ill' loimd iitc
'" Kav.nna non,. too ,,l,.a.,n,. an,I ,l,„,,h Ik. ua^ ..aptivatnl
'11- own .nalnluy.o nval ,1... fanlitv of snd. ar,. vet
S;;;, '•■'■'":; i-;' — i'-yun.l |,i. v.,yVeni„s opines"...,
^ IK'X. -.1 lu. ,, I>,w.nna fo.. Pisa Au,nst 17.' 'n,,o,...
^ia_
i
i\ri:<)i>i'<Ti<^\
tlvii
ciiiiii' :il~" to
l.llh ;' Aniii.
llril iIm-V mill
th
|'iK:t. t.iUiii- tlir l,mfi:in.-lii 1' il ire oi> ll...
IvroH l.ii.l MU-r.t..,l t.. Sl,.!l.y a' ll.vi,..:i
I^,.,.^!, II,, lit si l.l iiiiil.- in tnuiuliii- a [.n i-
„,„,,1, „, ,.,„„,,ii,^-,.,,n^.nt:itiv.. f,.t;.r.- work f.oiu .'ri.-l, ..t■
.,,„. Sli, ll.-v u.uv took up tl..- l-ltu witl. rntliiKiasMi. so t.ir
III l.usl ;i> It .•om.ti.umI 11. ml. ami, I.mi.hi.- of hU In.-i..! s
R.Mioiis illiM'ss i.. Ki.uLni.l. w.ot.. ,.ro,,nsin- his -l-paft-nv for
I,,l,. llm.t n'a.-l,...l l.->Mn ..nlv in .l.-lv. IS'J'J.l.ut tlu.
.^,-,.,,„.„;U.. uvl.o.n.' with wl-I.-li SlH.!l..y -n-t.-l htn, vv=is
,„,.„1„„|, ,h.. !H..4,nni..- aiwl ll..- -n.l of iIk' ivtu-w..! .•o.n-
, ..Ir-iiip for wiii.'li .Mcli was ImiM^.Tint,'.
15at a f.w i.iil.s uy tl..- ro.i.t from I'isa li.'S th.' (-tU <'C
So /.ia, wliilher SholU-y an.l M.uy. with Claire, who had
,,„i„i„,.l tluMn, trav..lU.,l in Septonil-.T, IS'JI, s.rk.,,- a lu'st
f,:, li.ii,. t„ ..otno. Thcv oxpl...-..,! th.. ...iHiat.ti..- sh.Hvs w...i
.U.li-ht. an.l ivt.ifiuMl happy it. tlH' a.si.nnu-.. that tlu-y ha.l
f luo.l tluMi- snini.HT haven for th.' siw.-er.li.i- y af. Miortly
.,f,..rwunl th.'V h'fl tiu- I'.aths.au.l ,v-.st:,hlish..l th..ms,.lve3
i„ I'isa prop.T. at the Tie Pala//.i .H r\uv<:u oppoMte tlio
I u.f. uu-hi I'alaeo and Hvn.n. inviiin- tii.- Williams family
,,, .,.,,,pv the lower iloo,. The Shelleys - f.v.- f..r the m.H
„i..„t ftom the ca.es of aalho.shlp, now .ha. H.lhs an.
Ma.y's Valpenja were concl.i.le.l — lea.l l.eely, .hseusse.l
i.h matt.rs with Hynm an.l th.- Wiilian.ses. or he.^.nh..! tho
„ ,. uith M.Mlwin an.l TaatY... Shell-y himself walk.'.l ami
„i.. an.l sail.'.l n..t, a littl. . ..r Uyn.n woi.hl m.scluevously
invite him to a fonnal .liiiner, for the sak.. of watehin- his
ui.aM-. or woall lea.l his <'.n» t.. a hea.vr ev.Mi nmro
,;,p,,..-iatlv... perhaps, thai, its eivat..r. liynin plaee.l ^'.eat
vihie iip-:i Slulhv's e.'i.ieal opinions, asseitin- that " iuN
alone, in this a;." of hiimhuu'. .la'vs st.-m tlu- cnmmt. as he
di.l to-.lav th.e tloo.l,..! Arm. in his skitV. alth.m-l' I '-"iil^l ""t
nhs,-,v h.- ma.le any progress." These w.mls are .pu.te.l
from the original li.rollrrflons of K.lwa.-.l John Trelawny,
a Cornishn.an, o.ul frien.l ui M.'.lwin ami Williams, who.
t!mm'h ..ill v'H.ng, had led a wild an.l var.e.l career. He
iii'4
I IM'l
r.
•i
it
i\
-41
xiviii
I^'TIiOlJircTKKV
1
^"••ivcd in I'isa. at WiH
I. -it lis
(i()|)ini,'
Ml SI
■'•inv U'illi.-ui
criii
;m(
sc on tlie
M.
•SK'HC
<'•"•'<• tall, and st
'•litcnantaii. Jl
roll'
instance, January 14. ],SL'L'
!"■'• »e<Muits for a snnuM.T
"an (>{ (ill,
I vt
L' \\;is a
iislinian." as M,
ll\- (IcsCl
'*■ l<i'i«l of Iialf-Aial) ]
|illV-
ixfv.-ntnrons (lisjmsition
■I'tHl uiin. wliosfi frank
littl
L' colony on the I.
>*<'i>n won liii.. tl
manner -uid
I'O//
>ind tlie Ai(fh
""- Anio. His Hecnrtl
'^ ninrard of the
peculiaily interest
"/• are, thoiiQ-li s(
■•^ of Shell
fi
valo
ami d
■■'"■^ 'igure. a ready-to-hand
'■'•"■ =' l"»i^ti<' picture of 1
>inexvliat inacciirat
"^V^-.I readaide. Shelley fonndl
'y.
Jinislinl I)
^nimu. Willi
linn in /'/
i«J|'n formed a h
ams andSJidl
iiin a
rranti'v,
"jniPiifs of an Un-
symho] of kniirht-e
cv. uit
upon SjK.zia, and 1
a.i,nie with 'I'rel
li
awiiv for tl
yi'on's partv,
■'"•oner from Captain Daniel
S(
6t
left f,
'e vvas con.M.issioned to order a 1
=iy>'igat Gtnoa. Karl
Rohert
(-■ ensnin^r descent
ittle
oi' Spezia CO
y ill Feh
an old friend th
eijriia
i-y Shelley and Will
tliat oidy one <,rood resid
was -to serve for all." 'fj
secure houses, hut returned
len
laiiis
to annoui
ii(!e
l)y B
the T
ron's defection. D
-nee was^t., he had. and that this
; i'owever, hecame limited
;ill
Will
her
iiscan s[)ring Shell
'nrin^r the softly I
Ify wrote liis tl
'amsorij,dnallyintende.l only for tl
nsl.and and herself. H
y Iwautiful days of
'i-ee lyrics to Jane
•e private readin<rof
mcntary drama. Charles the /,
It was fortunate for the SI
^ was also at work on the f
irsf.
raL'-
afifauist
which Shellev w
going to Spezia. Not H
Ueys that Byron decided
CI
iii'e, des])ite all int
as accustomed, hut I
yron s posing huti
lours, to
us stea.iy cruelty toward
'■'^'";1«'"1>, and it was therefore witi
nat he aocenfp.l K.r. • i • ■
tM-vent,o„. slowly wore out Shell
tliat
h
accepted Hyron's d
relief
■'•a, who soon thereafter died
efision. Cla
on all grounds
'i'<^« anxiety for Al-
caused her such sutl
in an uidiealthful
^'•iug that Shelley and M
convent.
and Claire to
S])ezia, followe<{ tl
IVI
'-• with then. On A . '.^v ;" ' '■""'^■"' '''
1 ^' • • ■ - '"'-'' ^'^^^''^«'"y escorted Mary
•e next day l.y Shelley an.I
party were settle.l in" Casa
e villa on the
the Williamses. By May 1 the
'igni, a
l>'ctures,jue hut not too comfortabl
INTUODVCTION
dix
l?av «f Lovici, neur
the lisliinsr-lianilet cf S:in Tereiizo.
Claiic. appiis^xl at len-th of AUe-ni'.s tleatli. returnei
;i time
ti. F
lOlTlU'l-
and
I
to It'iid a liaiitl in Ciptain
itlaw ny jiiocffdi'il to (,
Rolifits'sboal-biiildiiip
iciio;
1 for
theio
Tl
IS now
)]!(
liidod not only Shelley's cr
ift, but a yacht, the Bolivar,
for livron.
On May 12 thelont^'-expccted boat arrived, bnilt from the
soniewhatVccentric plans of Williams, but so swift and f,'race-
ful that Ariel became her name o
Juan, as Trelawnv
i rii;ht, rather than Don
had named her daring the ori.Ljinal part-
nership. Charles Vivian, a yonngsaibn-dad, one of the crew
Nvho bronoht her, was retained, and made a ([nietly elHcient
Mil! Williams and the
id per to
the too pleased and energ
l)ook-preoccupied Shelley, w
ho. delegated to steer, used
..ftener than not to put the helm the wrong way. Trehiwny
a!id Roberts touched at Spe/.ia, June 13, with Byron's^ ya(dit,
and Trelawny went on to Leghorn three days later. Whether
almost constantly reading or
on
land or sea, Shelley was
iniisuu
thouirh at times his nnxx
I was as c.uick and merry
as a (
•hild's at play. The Triumph of Life, begun at Pisa
an<
1 continued at Casa Magni, is
die last fine fragment of
.1
his poetic work. The poem is touched with a deeper and
truer philosophy than of old. the fruit of maturing exi)e-
rience. and leads us to feel that, if time had been his. he
would have become at once more human and more catlxdic,
less impatient for the renovation of life, more penetrating
in its interpretation.
bi_jiianv of SheUev's mostjiaunting songs there h luumi
the ecdioiuiTuJiisiifiiLiffi^ IS ever of a really robuiO^
ci^^ stitution. an d subject «luriiig liiiiust years to spaimii* <»{ •
acute pain, heinsen.sibl/alloAYed hisjouthfully pensive anlk.
cipations to take on a more settle.l habit. When boating with
Byron during the summer of 1816 and threatened with acci-
dental death J.e felt in the i)rospect, he wrote to Peacock,
"a mixture of sensations, among which terror entered, though
but subordinatelv." Trelawny tells us that Shelley remained
1
lyTUODUCTION
inort, nt t!,,. I.otton, of a ,1,.,.,, ,,o„l i,, tlio Arno .h.rin.r the
I.n.-rc.ss of tl,e only swi,mnir,^r lesson l,e soenis to liavo
tak.M,. a,i,l |,H,1 to l,c lKi>iily rcscu...!. -\VIhm, l.o recovemi
liis h.eati,. 1„. sai,! : -^ ahv:tv.sjm,l the holtom of thn vvoll
I'av.. fo^T;n,.a:,a .vuu woul.l have fo.,„l an .....pty shell.' "
Ami at^ Ca.a Ma:;,.!, oaiin,; the boat o,.e ,lav into .leep u ator,
«'ith Jane W:"i„.,s and her I.ahes as passengers, he sat
Hl.nt a wh.l...at last lo.kin^r „,, and exelain.in.r -■ No,v let
us tog.4he^Jve_Uie_greaUnys^ " Williams N^tes of
what, perhaps, was tin,- st.-an.:,.esi j-ortent of all, ti.e vision
l.at cau.e to Shelley in May of a ehil,! like Alk-.^-a risinj.
t.om t u. sea, to s.nil,. at hin. and elaj. her hands in joy.
_ Ivuly .n June Clai.e retarne.! to Casa Magni, and assisted
m_nnrs,ni; Mary, who heeauie for a week or n.ore seriously
ilK ll.uu.d. attended hy Shelley with unrelaxin. devotion,
sl.e improve,! hut slowly. By July Hunfs announee.l de-
IKirtui^e fron, Genoa for Leghorn .ieferndned Shelley and
^Vlll.:un^J<, s.dl for the san.e^.rt, that tl.ey might there
welcome h,jn_to Italy, and see his fun.ily safely housed in
thfcjowei^oor oj the Lanfranchi I^ihice at Pisa WIth_
vag..e le^us Mary saw her husband en.bark, and - eried bit-'
te.ix_wl|en he weutuway."L The voyage was pleasant and ^
«peedy, but disappointment awaited th.> voyagers. Alth.>u'di
|Iii>iL!HiHm:i;<l and was greet,.! with at!Vetionate warnin,
Jivr;^.., us It happ..ne,l. was sulking at a slight put up,>n him
l.y ti.e_It.ahan anth,niti,-s, and wa- resolve,! to .p,it tin- lit-
<>mry enterprise an,I the eountry at onee. It was imperative
tjiat_SdudK^y siiould ani.eaUo Bvron on b..I,alf of Hunt's
necessity and goo.l faitlN. whi.-h he ,li.l with so much foree
and_reas<,n that a satisfactory i.rogramme was at last ar-
ranged. % July 7 all was settle,!. an,l the poet, turning
to Mrs. H.mt, as the tii.ee frien.ls stn.lle.l ai,out Pisa
exclaime.1: '• If i^iu^,>-,._^n;,.w, IJutve lived to be oldeL
^thau ^ly fa^er ; I am ninety years of age.'^
• PVoiii .1 lettor to Mrs. (iiaborne.
IXTUODUCTION
li
Vrnpliotie words! Farewells were pxclian^cd. Tliiiit i)nt
into Slu'Ucy's hands a cn]^y of Krats's list volume, and tli.i
.voiiini^ sliadows of the Lcghurn road swallowed up tlie
form of his t'rien.l. On the morrow, July S. US'-'L'. hoili the
j.ort aulliorities and the friends of Williams and Shelhy at
Leghorn were disturl)ed hy si-iis of tempest. Cai)tain Ilol)-
cits. in iiartleular, sought to detain them for anotlier day.
l{iit dissuasion was of no avaih Both were anxious to return
to Casa Mat^nii. and shortly after noon, with the lad Vivian,
tliey set sail, watched anximsly hy the -lasses of Roberts
and Trelawny. A few ho\us later a thunderstorm broke in
earnest, the several smaller eraft seurryin^' before it into
harbour. Trelawny was stationed on board the anchored
liolivar, whence he did not retire until dark. Roberts saw
the la>t of the Ariel^rom the lighthouse tower. It was a
speck some niTles out at sea, but his glass descried the occu-
pants taking in the tojjsail.
Not for several days did the sea relinquish its dead, cast-
ing iiplShellev's body near Via Reg-iu, and Williamss-
alujut three miles distant^Jji Tuscan territoiy. The end had
come, and Shelley's life of ligiit and song, —
" _ . . its ])inioiis (lis.iiTMVLMl of mitjlit,
Diooju'd ; o'er it oIosimI tlu; cchoLS i'ar ;i\v,iy
Of thu j;''i-'at voice \\lii(li did its <iit;lit sustain.
As waves which lately jiuved his watiTV way
Hiss round a drowner's head in their tempestuous play."
Some weeks i)asse<l before Vivian's l),)dy was found.
The anxiety of tlu; women at Casa Magiii soon deepened
into alarm, and, on the Frhlay following the fatal Monday,
drove them into Pisa. Tliey saw Byron first, and then
Rob..rts and Trelawny at Leghorn. None could comfort
them. After anguislie.i conversations they were persuaded
to return to Lerici, accompanied hv Trelawny. The bodies,
much nnitilated, were found July 17 and 18. In one of
Shelley's pockets was a volume of Sophocles, in the otluM-
the borrowed copy of Keats, turned back at The IJve »f Sf.
I <*:
lii
INTRODUCTION
A!,»rs. The stvuv^onry of ,1.0 Italian ,,„arantine law made
It ...■.•.■ssuT to secure permission to erernate the l.oclies —
airea,ly oihcally hu.ie.l in .(Mieklinie o.. the shore- in
onier ,„ preserve the ashes for later interment. (J„ Awn:,t
•>. I.vlauny. Hunt, an.l Byron gathere.l on the heaeh ;
the nn..ral pyre for Willian.s's l.o.ly was .nado ready, and
was ht hy Irelawny. •• The .naterials hein,^. dry and^.esin-
ous the pn.e-wood hnrnt furiously, and .Irove us hark It
.•as ho, enonoh hefore. there was no breath of air, and the
loose sand seorehe.! our feet. As soon as the flames became
clear, and allowed us to approach, we threw frankincense
an.l salt into the furna.-e, and poured a flask of wine and
od over the body. The Greek oration was ondtted. for we
ha<l ost our Hellenic bard." The n..xt day, at Via Re,,do,
Shelley s remams were similarly treate.l. before a -rou,) of
eurums native spectators. The story is realistically told by
re lawny. M\_hat surprise.! us all," he concbules, ''was that
the heart remained entire. L, uitchinj. this relic from the
fiery furnace, ,ny han.l was severely burnt ; and had any one
seen n>e do the act I should have been put into quarantine."
llie final bunal of the poet's ashes took place, by Mary's
desire, ,n the Protestant cemetery at Rome, in a tomb built
by Irelawny within a recess of the old Roman wall This
was covered with solid stone, bearinj. an inscription in Latin
written by Lei^h Hunt, with a passa.^e added by Trelawny
from The Tewjjesf, well loved by Shelley : —
PERCY HVSSHK SHELLKY
rOR COUDIUM
XATUS IV AUG. MOCCXCII
omiT vni .rirr,. Mncccxxii
" Xothing of liiin tliat lintli fa.Io
liiit .lot'i sniff r .1 spa-cli:iin;e
Into sniiipthiiif,' rirh aii.i Ktran^'e.''
In the companion tomb lies Trelawm-, whose grave is in-
scribed with .Shelley's lines, The Epitaph. Nut far .awa-
ISTRODUCTION
liii
aro tl.e gravos of John Keats an<l Josevl. Severn, an.l that
of John Achlinston Syn.on.ls. h>ver and hio,,M-ai.her of Shel-
ley -Ana all ahont -vow everv sovte of fh.wve. -J'f'^^
,„;,l daisies, roses an<l clover, and over all the tall, <lark
cypresses wave solemn hon<;hs.
SII EI>I.KY A S I'OKT-^
There is nothin- more .lifheult t.. detine than Poetry, he-
oause there is nothing n.ore Protean. The st;.teme..ts are
as various as the creators and the critics, and .t is well th.t
it is so, for parth-ularity and insistent dicta are fore>^n> ^c
the spirit of literature. Literatnre_is large andcathol.c ; >t
is in its essence a n.ystery, incapable of prec>se_sc.ent,hc
analysis ; it is an unquenchable spiritual impulse and adven-
ture^ealiml in words; it is the interpretation n thoT^ream
r life; an.l with its instinct humanity is mahenahly en-
dowed. "Yon cannot escape Literature," dedare.l Sidney
Lanier. " For how can you think y.urself <.ut ot thought f
How can you run away from your own feet f "
Yet there are at least three .pndities that may seem to
detern^ine the literary artist, the poet. He must, fn'st. 8eek_
pure truth with a devote.l and single-minded enthusiasm,
whateverUie cost. He must cherish every hint, every gleam.
He must catch the rhythms of the noisy life about him as
those of the sea and the forest. He must be at heart a man of
i,.,ense social sympathy, yet of a lonely h.bil. Certainly,
1,, ,vill belong the more truly to the woi.d ot men because he
does not belong to them. He must be for mankind -
'The okIv speaker of essential t_i;iith.
OpH.ised to relative, couipurative
And temporal tnitlis.'
'•Poets," said Shelley, " are the unacknowledged legislators
of the world." And again. " A poem is the very image of life
1 Tl.eatten.pt l.a« l.een u.a.le to toneh tl.e l.io-,apl.ieal sketcl. with
criticism. The presen, treatn.ent ain.. to derive general crmcal prin-
ciples from the particulars alrea.lv given.
•t'i
'i\
' i*
'k
i '\
I
i
'■■
t i
i.
T
i ''
. 1
,
"!
IIV
ly'lUOhlCTlOX
fxprcsscd ill its olrnial truth
''lit Iianl. It is liis, al:
Tl
tih
■•il>tism III salt
Hi place of the poet is J^Iirh
ove others, to ox]K.rieii,.(; with foiH-
aiid oven at times in ait f..r lii
"•ater. to siim-r „ol,l
V Ml
ifo
Hlldwith stniL;-ie. yet 1,0 still
s(.litarv flLrin'o „f Alast
IS liouers salve. H slowly
spells out Ins woid. Siiell
ev s
til(MI_;ll I
sadness.'
IIS ear wa.-
'"■ "■''"* ""t. "v iiiiist think, iinl
s lioldeii to he,
ir
ll
lapj.y.
It' eternal imto of
Til
liiri.
I)oet must have, also, fi
<s in
l:m-iia-j.-. Th
iiesoiisihllity totheh
J»e works
lis.—
il
positive
'•■> du'tioii must 1)
ly-
Is IS the pla
ill Words: II
;uif.v that
iiK;
sur(j
seiitiii'
liim.
H
L' must liL" ii
1 I'epresentiiiif life
words, their i
l>oems must not 1
eeiilv a
"latciial with which
I silences.
:iiid repre-
ei,^ativelv, il
•iiisic, colours, individual
tl
)e wor
ili'i-isons. hut
ware of the di,<,'nity of
s.and kiiishi])s. His
ille
"IS re-ard for words — indeed,
in,!,' such re-aid — |
into the root ri-^rl,tncss of tl
truth ail
word-hoines. And te
asf, a
i>i ••"iidiiioniii- and jiistify-
aii im;
llll'I-S.
Art.
'eUlll^r insi.rlit
With its hun..'cr f
«l -ts ,,assion for heaiity. feeds also ami al
or
good, upon the law of 1
must til
o.(!and-virt
e artist he ; hut I
ways iijiou
"t--o;raiiied aesthete
'e must he. hefme and heyond that,
All
a .nan One iii any tiehl who delights to picture';;;:;:.;;;
It UM. sake who IS preoccupied rather with the tempo-
y alliance of energy and evil than with the stru-ile
'-t ".a e, ,., characer-such an one is not less dead tL
-"y tlKin to ,ood. It is ,uite true that the prof l!^
'-• '^^I>-.al pleader, and does not see and show impar.
-I'y- "-^I''-^-'''l'l'I'> ill.- „..,„,„ si.ellev, no end ol
-owncm,ceptioi.sofri,,,andwro„.w-hi;hare^.^,^^^
-of his pla.. and tinic. in his poetical crea, s. w "h
' ;;P;-;''->>ier-- v.. it is a... true that Hfe is seej
■n .r r ' """ ""' '"^ 'l-Miii^Ji^ is of moral
^ ""■""; .'''Vorygi.c,,t aitis, is implicitiv .levoted to the
.■io^.d. IS sincerely on the hetter side.' All sur.^^^^^^^
masterpieces are marked by uiimistakahle si.ns of I.../..:
\
lyriionrcTioy
Iv
tint wl.irh is lu.lv. wIkvI.-vcv i.l..t <.v nu-tliod may appear.
No .^..ni.is. l...urv.T crrati.-. Xhvrvinva, has l.ceii radically
vi..i,MH. Thun-1. tlH> li-l.t !u. livt's ill may smuctinu's l.lm.l
l,i„,. it will nnt l.la^t him. Kx.tj:aonlmai-y siucei'ity w-^lo-
,„.,,*,1,.,1 in art. u h..l..-h.'aitr,i all.-i;infc to (..u-'s i.loal and
i„-.pi.atT..n, and lif.d.m- pc-cveranc- in the attempt to reah/.e
ll,,.^-. " Poetry redeems from decay the visitations of the
divinity in man."
Notwithstanding the varyin- emphases of the great poets,
— variations often more api)arent than real. — it wdl he
,„„„.l that their liv.s and their works satisfy thoe condi-
tions. It is easy todistinjruish Shelley's poetry Irom \\ onls-
worth-s. or fron. Shakespeare's, and yet it would .sometimes
l.c a i,'o.Hl deal less easy were it not fur the s.n-le faH o
.tvT,..-_the characlerlstle elothin-. or rather the special
uTv in which ea<di man's work >n'<irs its clothin-. Even
so "there are h.ief passages \uAh,..fnr that Wordsworth
,„i„.l,t have uttered, and lyric touches in the P,-n„cthe„.,
tlKit would not readilv he wreste.l as spurious from one ..f
Shakespeare's romantic come.lies. Tin. truth is, that Poeh-y,
too is one. an<l that, as Shelley himself so finely phrases it,
"poetical ahstractions are heautiful and new. not because
the i)ortions of which they are composed had no ju-evious
cKistence in the mind of man or in nature, hut because the
whole produced hv their combination has some intellis.hle
an.l beautiful anah.i^v with th.>se sources of emotion and
thoudit, an.l with the contemi.orary con.liti.m of them : one
.Meat poet is a masterpiece of nature which another not only
ou.drt to study but must study. He mi-ht as wisely and as
eMsilv determine tliat his mind should no lon-cr he the muTor
ot ail that is lovelv in the visible universe, as exchnle from
bis contemplation 'the beautiful which exists in the writings
of a LH-e.at contemporary. ... A poet is the cond.med
pvoduct of such intern:d ; wers as modify tW natui-e_of
others ; and of such exteThal nifluences as excite and sustam
S:,.^^ ,,i,u'ers : he is not one, but both. Every man's mind
Ivi
/.v77.'o/ircr;o.v
/
""„■ '■' '■"'■'>■ "'"■'' ^' ■v.T.V «„;bc,,i „.|,i,.|, 1,0 over J
;;;.:'i:;;:t:r,;;;r;:;;-';- ^» -.;- i-^,:::!;
!.^:^"s,r;;:r,n:r:l'::;;:r;:,:nS''r''"
-•ly won f... ,n.„ the title of -th,. poets' poe ' •,
Jlo.nn- an.I tl.e Greek tr,.„.e,l,Vs ; i,. Tl L.nt,, M 1
- i^o„=i.„. ovi.,,vi,,i,...., ;:;;:;;: r;^-^^^^
-ii.iuaiiN . Ml iMilton s austere f^in/. ..>, 1 i •
-■.■•;• -•i<s:.,. in ,,,epoeu.s or S..o,t:M:Z^^^^^^
^\....,lswo,.th.an,l Col...,-,!.., 0„,„„. ,.,„_ ,,^. ' "' '
yars he praise,! m,u-hCal,le,onan.l I)„.te an, u
wit), ti. 1 1 I • ".line, ,111,1 I'ead Jivron
.0 l.n»e was ,.„ne„„„„li„sly c,„„i,|e,,.,l,le I- a,,,, „. L,
aT'2 I """,»•"•'■'<»'"' '•>■■ li'-vmn,. in a late,-, a'y. „1
""<»K ot Juli especiuliv.
. i he In ,n,- persons u ho n,o>t i„fl,H.n,.e.l Shellev have heen
a- ynn.UnHu.lan.l,,..se,.ihe,Mntheske,eh\.fU r
a k^ lari. Shelley see.ns eh,e% eoneerne.l with its inren
natnre iieither ns vnef i^, ■ t i s<-es
.... a , .,;..rr x:r- ,::r;;t\:
^rom the Preface tc Promelheu, Unbound.
ISTUOUVCTION
Ivii
R
,t'Si)onsive
unreal projection of human tl\ou;^lit atid fanry
as lie is to every seiisiions impression, ami ea^er to trace tlio !
coiiise of Imnian dotiny in the syniholic aspects of natnie. h« '
\ ft rharacteristically regards all natural phenomena as vital
ill tlicni-elves and for iluni>cive<, iinder>taMdinL;- man no
l.'^s than underslond In liini. lioiicmrin- tiieir own dii^nity as
m
■niliers of the spiiilmd crononiv o
f th
univer>e.
am
ralmer am
1 t
rner in
their niiivemenl toward (h'stinv than
the morta
is who live aniont^ them in alternatin;^ tits of
tnal
uid crmlty, of fear and lio])e, into their spii^ti
hrollierhood the iiiiunined_jnav gain access
hut
only oil
terms of purity and lui-ellishness. What they reveal to such
led for the larire sake of all. not for the little, local
is reveale
)f
1.
Nature and man are tendin''
Ljam ot a wanderini^ immai _
toward the hij^h estate of perfect love, and each will he the'
lietter for the otiier's understandim;- friendshi]). Prometheus,
tlie ideal of ^n. and Asia, transfigurejil Natjire, will at
ieiii^th hecome united in one heing, that Light of which
the poet sings in A<l<»ials —
" . . . wliosH siiiilp kindlen the Fnivorse,
That Beauty in which all things work anil move,
Tliat Benediction wliieh the etlipsin;; Curse
Of hirtli can (Hiencli not, that sustaiuinf; Love
Whifli, tlirouf;!! the web of beiiif; blindly wove
By man and lieasr and earth and air and sea, •
Burns lirii^ht or dim, as each are mirrors of
The fire for which all thirst."
It will thus he seen tlmt Shelley is at one with the roman-
tic temper of his ago in ascrihinr to nature a spiritual (pialitj
and sign ificanc e, and in regarding man's life as syniholic
and progressive; hut he goes heyond lloinanlicism — Words-
wortliian Romanticism at least — in his idea of the vigor-
ously dynamic life of nature, an idea he holds in comnion
with nnxlern physicists, save tliat with him nature is almost
every wiiere ai)otheo>i?;ed. Wordsworth, though he informed
nature with intense spiritual meaning, yet saw it in famjliar
imases and in rather still hahitudes. Even at its highest,
f»«
^
'W
-m
VIII
iyTU()l)I(Tl(>\
".•itMroi„l,i. worki. .n,n...,vl.:.t .Ion,..s, i,.i/...l. .-„ |,.,s, I,,,,].
""''• '" ""-"• •■""' i^ ""'•" .•'.'vj.,.r;,tiv,.Iy I.Ms|„.,| a,„l sta-
t'"^^MV \Vl,..n. i, M,uv,.s an.l ..„.., ,i/,.s ii .|,.,.. .„ .|,,,|,
'""'"'""""'"'•- '"' ■.•!■. il^ tnn,. ,-.. ,|„. t.„ f fl„. pi.;.;
": ^'' "•"-^' •'' in , i,v,i„. ,.;„,,„, ,,„i„.MlK,„;',a
"» =' n:.l,M„ „„„„yui„.|. T„ i\,„.,lMv„P,l. natu.v ,. ,1...
K:.r,H.„,..f ,1m. Ki..n,.I: .o {;iM^,Ju^,.,,,,,„,,„t. si,.!!..,.
inak..s Ins ,.;,.„,.■.. l..s ,.,.„.,...: ,1,:,,, :H.,i.,„.l pro,,!....!...
A.v,ln,s:. !,..,. ,|,.„,.,,„ .v,.I<s.,la.X,.lu.ui„l,u.uk.ov..r
;;- .-M N.nd.sauil.lspint.novn., e^..nuhen^
i.iLiu- l..^|,,u- o.vtl....lu.in,Vou...s,.,l'an,lK.a.-n,.l
i\Ma n. tlu. /V.,..7/..... Tlu. vrv ,ny.l.ul„.n..al hu n.ss
:'t "..Mv of Ins Ma,mv-^onn.;tions-(;,v,.k i,. 1k.,I;- I,„t
■n>--l vn,o.I..n. an,! f..,v.,,, in spin, --.;,,. tl,..,„ a,. ou-..,.
ti.at s„rs ami draws .von ...suaily luuMnotioi.al rea.i.Ts. Hi,
P-try .liustrates oiu- ul Ins ,.u„ ..anlinal .lu.t.i.n.s as ciiti.
'• •• -•'•''M'.'ls us to f...., tinu wludMvo pen.en-e, and to hnaginJ
tliat wlncji \vc l<im\v. "
i-. Shelley is nearly always a coursing poet. Ti.ero is
sni. n.h.s work, and wind and storm. An '« enemy of s.-
'••'■ty. he was yet an anxious lover and reformer of man-
ynd. A^ains, o.vasional laus he rei.elled. considering only
the laws o. the spirit to he hindi,,^. and i.nm.Uuhle. He wa's
=.hvays a PkUonist in temper, and early heeame one also hv
'■'•"--•t..m. AH that man needs, he thon,d.r. is freedon. ,o
tlnnk and ,o aet. (Granted rehef from fear and tvranny, he
ca.motadtoeome out into the li;^hr of love. liis ininet
w.ll lead mm If he will ha, trust i,, f.,r it is not blind, Inr
IS ma.le purposeful hy the Power, the Spirit, that ho'p'-: all
tnn,shna!lyto realise themselves in love. Man luu. heen
slKunetully ahuse<l. drnc^^e.]. „,ade mad. hy oppres.on, self-
ishness, a!!,! dread. Let him heeome hlms.,lf -
"M.m, ..no !ia.ai„iii„„s soul of m.u.v ,i soul,
n liosc ii.itun. is its own divii,.. c.ntr,)!
Wl... I) .1 ■ .1 ,. *
'' ''' "••-^;J Ji^'« Lu aii, as rivtjrs to tho sea;
iSTi:<>i)icTi()\ Hx
r.iiiiili;!!- ^li'l-i -ii-'' liiviiit ifiil llifi)iit;li I'lvc ;
I,:il..iiii-. :liiil piiii. mill wn, t, in III', 's l;i( ni i.'rnv.-
Spiirl Ilk.' I. nil.' I)i;i--ls, 111. II.' kii. u liou v;. nil.' iImn c.itilil Im.
■■ lli^ will, uilli '11 nil MM ].;i<<iiiii>i. Innl il'li^lit-i,
Aii.l -. lti-1. (11. -. il^ II. nililiir^ -..il.'llit. 1,
A ^|iM II ill I.. '^111.1 ■. Ir.il ini'_:lil \ L. ..l" \.
I, :is ,1 I inpi'sl v\ iii'^.'i! sliip. u I1..N. li.liM
I, .IV.' nil.'-i llir.i'r_;li u.iv.'S wliiili .l.ir.' n.it ov.Tu li.'lin,
Kiirc'iii;; liti-'s wild, st sinHTS In nvMi its scivi'i'.i-ri svi.-iy.
" 'I'll!' ili^litiiiiiL; i-^ lii< --iiivi' ; licivin's iitiiin-it dct'ii
(iivi"H lip liri- st irs, ami iik.' :i llmk uf slii>.'p
Tlii'V piss ImI'iim' Ills I'M', ai'.' niiiiil..'i'iii, .■mil mil on!
Tin- t.inp.'st is liis stri'il. hi' si 1 i.l.s tlic .'lir ;
Anil ill.' ilivs-, sliiiuts t'liiiii lii'i' ili'ptli l:iiil li.-irc :
' lIi'Hvi'ii, liast Ihoii si'LTL'ts ■.' Man iinvuiU uw ; 1 liavp nunc' "
III niili'i- to clrar nuni's \v;iv fi'i' him Siu'llry discuviTS not
oiilv liis iiiUTiial foes, liut uIm) till- cxtorniil eiicinics which
(■iiroina^c thi'se. — Kini,' ami Tii-st. Against iiolitical and
ti-i'leisiastical tyrants lie lifts u|> a Imi'iiiiiL; voico, in his O'te
in Lilirrfii, Rei-nlf of Isl'Hii, J'romrt/irjis, aiwl 7V/c Ciiiri.
Here he is at ono with \\\6 most anhnt sjiirits of tlit" inuck'i-n
rcvohitionaiy I'la. though in point of ]iatieiico ' In' iiad much
to h'arn. It secnipd to Slndh y tliat iicrsonal |irosi>ority
and content meant m'ai'T\' .always a sclfisTi hlindiu-ss to the
woes of others : it seemed to him that tlie world at lap^o
was inUie }^rip ofTanef iirTuKl intolerahle custom ; tFatnien
were simr^Ty !uV(TTatiionsly wearint:; shackles tiiat r.ot only
hampered their movements hut corroded their very souls ;
and that all tliat was necessary to tlieir deliverance was
acri'iitance of the spirit of love in ])lace of tlie dictates ol
' In in.ittrri- intiniati'lv atr.'itiiiLr liinis.'lf. liowi'vcr. Sliill.'V suini;-
tinu'S slioucil I'xti.ionlinarv liiii'^-siill'rrin;:'. Nut.' tli" niililiu'ss of tlie
fi.Uowiii.^' ri'l)iikt> in a l.'tt.T '.> laiii.s Ollii r, liis pnlilishcr : " Mr. (Jis-
liiii'iH' li.'is si-nt ni(> a copv ..f tiic /V"/i'.'/iMi\. uliirli is ci'i tainl v ninst
H'aiitii'iiUv piinU'il. It i-* To In; ri'-ri'ttiil tliat tli ' .'inns of tin' p.ri'ss
>ri' s ) niniRTiiiis. and in many ri'spccts so ili'stiii.'tivi' of tin' urns.' of
.. ,..,.,.:,.„ .,(■ ......trv wl'.'cli. I fear. OYL'n vvittiont this ilisadvantairt'. vor]/
fi'w \ ill nndtTstand or like."
HI
l:«'i
r
Ix
ISTUohrcTlOX
(what tlicv .'.illr.! lau,' ,i u-illi„K,„.ss t„ s..(> a,„l assniiu- inan-
^ kind's In-rita-c of tV.T(I...n of soul, and a dftcrinii. tion no
lon.^,.,- to sni.init |„ tli.- uliiins and \vilfiilii,.ss,.s of srU-cui-
stitntrd ..xpluitrrs. In l.ri.f, Slirllrv uas a tlionM.o|,-^,,ini;
liadical in tlion-lit. in t.Mclii.iir. and in d.cd. fhou^-li a
'"■"'.^ ■'•''"' '""■• '•'• "'l^ wllolfsouicly .allirst in liis dcsiiv
I'M 111'' u,. lid's l„.tt, iMiM.t. yi-t Im' was. in Ids personal n la-
^Jions. s,,ni,ti.nrs slian-.ly inst-iisiUvo in liis vcrv s..nsitiv,..
M.S.. \h' was liaidly willin-that m.-n sl.oidd enn.unt.r and
o\,.itliinu- tyranny with its own weapons, and y.-t lu- was
d.'t'i.ly impatient of tlieir Ion- hesitation to he free. If
Wordsworth was a priwit of Liherty. and Hyron its sohlier,
Shelley rather was its yonn- pro^et. who hrooded", and
^promised, and exhorted, and lamented, in turn.
Too often his poetiy strnek the note of jrrief at the list-
lessne>s and iiisuiHcieney of human life. It is intcrestini,^ to
!.■ te with what unrest he time after time contrasts life with
<leath. the wakin^,' consciousness with sleep. Indeed, thero
are few of the romantic poets who are not moved to nohle
utterance on these twin themes. I„ Coleridge, Wordsworth,
Shelley. Keats, and Uyron. such references recur again and
again. For the sleep-ex|)erience, it seems to the j.oet. i)ro-
vi les for him a way of escape from the weaknesses and
wrongs of mortality, rescues him from his own and liis
fellows' littleness, gives his imagination the right and the
jiower to assert its mastery and -o on its unchecked adven-
ture. S:., too. as in sleep he dies to the world of fact, from
sleep he rises with .'ularged horizon, with cleared and
refreshed s])irit.
" Every inorninR- wp aro bnni : every iii^ht we dif."
_ ' Fn Lis Es.nn ,y.i rhnsH-ndf,/. Sl„.ll,.y „ri...s : " This, and no otl.or,
,s jMHiuM. : —tocoiisiilVr. m.defall die cirtMniistanops of a particular
rase, Imw tl>e Krpatesf,|Manfity an,l -.mrest ,|na!itv „f happiness will
ensue from any acti.,nv Itl.is] is to l.e i„sr, and tl.ere ,s m. oflier jns-
ti.e. Tlie distinction betwe.'n justiee and ini-rey w.as Hrst inia.Mned
:,-::|:::v. ." ,;:ii;;r.(l rr. .iive eveiy relaxation of < iieir
tyranny ,-w a circuiustajicu of j;Taco or favour."
i\Ti:(U)r(Ti<>y
Ixi
....,„s ,nust ..atlu.,. in-n iWlf all ,h.. .n..unn,s ami 1 .-
,„.,,„., ,.f .1...,,. Sl,..ll..v ...,u-lu.s th..s.. i.l.-as wu h a n...
.Mi..:U,.anain,,..nn,>>m,u,l,y.l,au,l..>a,.v,,,. . W^
^,..,,,,,.,,/^//.s.J/.M/.//^^v^-.^.y^ ".
Iv,,..;; ..r/-" - /W'W;... a...l i.. tl..so l.tten.! .^nls
,„„....,,,i,„ th. Km,1.>1. l.Hn.M,-,aa.ealKon.o; • lose,
the sMM shiMlM, OM ..s iM^l.t ..a.s, f.e.l.. when ^^.. h.s
v,M.,.,l it, with ll.o a..tM.M..al cK-ws, a.Ml l.ea.- Ihe wl..s,,...-..,,^
,n.wM the tuml. .,f C^sUm-. a...! the s...l wh. . ,. s,....m,
the s,„.-wa..n. earth. a,,a...M.a.k the to,..l,s,n.,.stlyot
::;::a..ay..un. people, w,,o...,ehMvie.lt,.e.eM..n.^^^^
if „nc were to .lie, clesi..- H ' sleep th.-y see,., to sle..p. ^"',1.
rhu,Mann.i,..l.an.l..it, ph. with its w.s.es v.ea.u-y
ohlivio...-''rheh,.u-esM..a..rwhiehSh.l.yhroosMpo
the tho..,l..s of sleep a„a aeath a.v a,..o.., the gentlest ami
truest in the whole ra.,-- of his shi..i..- .n.a-ery
Trisin._.na falling nu.sie, it was .aia. - t.,.,e. ..ften
with n.ehu.ehuly. But this nu-la..cho'y .s not to be u.n-
. , • • If ;.. tliP nielaiieholv of au a.id
fuun.lea with pess.nnsM.. It is the n.c am ,
•utists, a pri..eiple that has persi.tea .n le.Uon.e hte.atmes
espeeially! f ron. the tin>e of the Saxon sa.as to - -; d^y
1, roots, perhaps, are three: reco^,M.U.o.. of the Inc oni
te..ess.,ihuln life: inability to exp..ss a U.,.a^^^^^^^^
,„h wi.h the sheer iirst power of that thouK.t or t...
...a failure to secure n.ore tlKU. a ve.y .^,ht share ..f O. .
ve.po,.sive syn.pathy of n.en and won.en. Ihe poet i. haf-
,e at ever/turn by these ^' Thus f-'s,"- ev., though he
fi,ht the better for then,, - the l„n,tat,on o h e^ t^^ 1 >
,,i,,,.,nan,Ma,e.theliu,itationof love. Shjaie fit 1 n
,Uao,aelv. Himself hi.ulerea by h,,.,self. he iooUlf, -
,,,,, the;.o,.e eagerly to tl...KU.e.p.,on..,,.a,^^^m
I
i 9
his later days cleei.iy
UOUOUIUI
]xii
i\Ti:()/tr(Ti(>.y
of the j.^.tti,. i.ourr l,f yit fdt ,•.,M^tl•ai,uMl t,. ...voii ; lum-iy
:il\v;iyN toiuui-h ;,ml luuks of mi(l,ist:iii,liiiL;- ; he lias Teft
us Ins t.-.tii..„ny t..i.d,i„- i.ach of llirsu .•..imnun .somnvs
Of the iiii|KM fuctiiess uf life lie wn.tc :
^ '■ l-ifr. lik.. a (Iniiic of iiia,iy-c,,l„iir.M] m1;iss,
■^ ."^taiiis llii' uhii,. i-adi.iii. f ,,i' Kt.iiilt y.
';;;;■ Vu<\l D.atl. tiampl.s it to fra-rrifiils.— Diu
If tliou wouhlst bu wiih that wliie-li thou dost suek ! "
Of the :^tru--le fur exi)ies»i(.u : —
■• Wo is i,„. :
T1m> uiiiL;,'.,! u,.nl., <,n uhi.-h mv soul «oul,i ,,iercu
Intoth.. h.M;;ht oliov'sra, . Cnivrrso
Art' I'liaiiis of Irad arouii.l its th-ht of liro."
An.l a-ain: "The must glorious poetry that has ever been
co.nnnnueate.l to the worhl is proo.-J.Iv a feei.le shadow of
li.eonL^inal .■oi,(v,,tioi,s of the poet.' A.ul of the iua.le-
(jiuu'y of htiiiian love : —
" () Love I who ncwailrst
The frailty of all tliiiij;s here,
Why choose \ou the frailest
For your cradle, y,,ur lionie and your bier ? "
SheUev's own tlioir^^ht of hiinseli as ■t an.l refornier is
s-t forth ill the follouin^r cxtiaet from a leUer of Deeemher
jK 1S17, to (Jodwiii. eoneeriiiiio- [^aon (i,nl Vi/th„n ,,r Thu
AWn/f ,./ Ishn.,: -l felt that it was in u.atiy respects a/
Jjen.mie i.ieture uf „iy oun iniml. I felt t.iat the sentiments/
were tnie. not assimie,!. An.l in this have I Ion- helieve.l j
tha^ my puuer consists— in syn,]iathv, an.l that j.art of'
th.' inia.;inati..n which relaf.^s to sympathv an.l c.ntempla- 1
tion. I am forme.1. if for anythinj^r „nt it, o<>nim..n with the '
iK'-a of man!ciii,l. t.. appreh. .,1 minute an.I rei. ,te ,lis- 1
t.ncti.ms oi fe,.ling, Avhether r.'lative to ext.Tual nature or ''
the hvin^r l„,i„^.s whicli s.irr.Min.l us. an.l to cmmunh-ate
'■"• ••"•i''<"Iti"Hs whi..h ivMilt from .•o.,M.l..rl„.,. ..jther the
'"oral or th.. material universe as a whole. Uf course 1
\-
•f^-'- -^
lyrnoD'CTiox
Ixui
l.eliove these faculties, uliicli peiluips eoinproheiul all that
IS
iiiiiKt
ihlime in man.
to exist very imiieifectly in my
own
I
(•anno
t hnt he coiiscions, ii
much of what
I write, of an ahsence of that tnuHiuillity whieh is tln3
;,ttiihnre ainl acconiiMninient of power. ... If I hve. or
if I >,.e anv trust in eoniin- years, .hml.t not tliat I shall .lo
something'! wliatever it nn.y he, whicli a serious and earnest
..stin.ate ")f niv powers will su--est to me. and whieh wd^l
lu. in every respeet arconunodated to their utmost limits."
Godwin n'ee.l not have douhted. for SiieUey was not horn
to pa^sawi.v until he had uttered his masterpiece. — holii
a revelation and a prophecy. Alasfnr. too. JoHan <n,d
Ma,hhdo. and J.lnnais. Iiave peculiar vain- as presenting
sidf-.lelinealions of the poet\ ndn.l. while m the ex-pusite
son- of the Fourth Spirit in the rromdlwas we f^et
sc,mkhilU;-iiillxi^i^ti^ii^i'Ji^^^ ^'"^ creative faculty that
ni.hore liim in tliose jireat moments for which he paid m
the puin and sorrow of i^ray intervals: —
" On a piMt'.i lips I sKpt
Druamiii- iik" a Idv.-ailcpt
In ilii- soniid liis lir -u hinu Urpt .
N.ir si'cks iior iimls In- iiiintal Misst'H.
lint f<M!(i.s on \\w a.M'ial kissi s
Of sli.ipfs that liaiint Uioii-lifs wil.leriiessfS.
Hu will watcli fioiii ilawn to ulcxmi
Tlu> lake-rt'ti.'ct.-d sun illume
The Vk'llMW he.'s in the ivv-}ileoin.
Nor iieed nor see what things '''^J" '^^ '<
Hnt from thi-SL« cn-att; hi' can
Forms more ri'al than Hvin^^ man,
Nursliii ;s of immortality. '
It remains to speak of Siielley> distinctivo^ -style, which
is of .'ourse. one always in point of w<.rd-lore, musical
kfemu.ss. vivified sonslhililv. arnlrrntlov, yet it is sej.ar.ahlo
into the Ivric manner, th." dramatic, the satiric, and the
poleniic. Ir, the Ivric Shelley is in.st surdv himself, stnk-
in- tl edi to the secret of his feelin- vsith .pnck j.enelra-
if
I'll
1X1 V
INTRODUCTION
tion. and sinojin!::^ out Iiis emotion oxultantly, as \n__The
Cloud: or nioiirnfuUy. as in Stanzdn WfUi&»- in Drjec-
tim ; or liotli. as in I'^jiijisi/r/iii/ioii ; yet in all with an
a~>t()ni>liiMi,r antici|iativeties.s. It is a siiiLjiiif^ at its lia])))iest
lil\f till' shrill (li'lif^hl of his own skylark, or the eairh'>s
laptuie oT I'rownin^f's tluii'^h, hird-like in hoth its trillin;^'
eclioes anil its swift-lhnijjj r'lforin'llcs ; in its (|uiet earessini;"
of a sinj^le note, as " dieilal " or '• multitudinous," and in
the iloodiuL; harmonies of its iinale. And here it siionld be
said that Shelley's endin<,^s are amoii^' his greatest j)oetic
victories over tiie elogs of expression, whether in the lyrie-
huilt drama. J't'onirt/ifiis, with which he could not rest
(•onteiit until he had added a fourth act of hope and glad-
ness ; or in the magnificently sustained ]ia3an of Eternity
vvitli which AdniKih hreaks off its nujsic : or in the lin-
gering ])ri.niise-refrains of the ()(h to the West ll'iiitf and
the ajiostrophes to Jane. Yet this is not true of all of his
work, some of which, in its sheer lyric ahandon. is over-
cartless of the oracle that " truth in art is the unity of
a thing with itself." In the sonnet form, particularly. Shelley
is less successful, possibly because his ri'pugnance to even
a literary law that did not immediately commend itself to his
art sense may have disturbed his pen's ease and power.
Certaiidv, he was careless here of the canons, and seems to
liave had scant ajjitreciation of the self-justifying genius of
this difficult but finely sul)tle form. Even so. one cannot but
be grateful that Shelley nt eded no salvation from the vice
of fastidiousness. It is possible to fail in art, as Browning
writes, "only to succeed in highest ait."
Something of the same unease in techniipie appears in
the dramas. IfeUns, Pronief/ifiis, and TI/p Ci'nci, of which
oidv the last-named is. in the traditional sense, a con-
tribution to drama ])roper. I have used of the I'miiief/iriis
the term " lyric-built." for Shelby's utterance is always
essentially lyrical, and so indeed is his ])oint ot view. By
this is meant that he is chiefly inteiesled in rej)roducing
IMRODUCTIOX
Ixv
his own emotions in song, — emotions touching past deaths
and pursecutious, present i)h-asure3 and sorrows, and ideal
aspirations toward a World-Cause he too often felt as silent
and remote. He wrote — in its highest s^nse — personal
jK.etry. His aharacteristiQ work is never horizontal: when
exultant it shoots upward ; when dejected it plunges down-
ward. ■ It has no merely craftsmanlike propriety. Of the
rroft of the dramatist, indeed, he knew little either hy ex-
ptrience or hy reflection, tliough his critical vision showed
him the meaning of the dramatic i>/ea m jdainly that his
statement of it in the preface to The Ceiiri is among the
host we have. " The iiigliest nioral purpose aime<l at in the
hi-liest species ()f tlie drama," he writes, " is the teadiing/
th?' human he^rt^irougli its sympathies and antipathiesJ
the knowredge^of itself; in proportion to the po ssession of
wliicli knowledge every human heing is wise, just, sincere,
toUrant, and kind." And again : - In a dramatic composRion
the imagery and the passion should interjienetrate one
another, "the former being reserved for the full development
and illustration of tlie latter. Imugination is as the innnor-
tal God which should assume flesh for the redemption of
mortal passion. It is true that the most remote and the
most familiar imagery may alike he fit for dramatic purposes
when employed in the illustration of strong feeling, whicli
raises what is low, and levels to tlie apprehension that which
is lofty, casting over all the shadow of its own greatness."
The Cenci itself, though an_actable play hy virtue of Jts
nrniTyiniariny'stnlci^^ challenging antitheses between
the incarnated sptrits of good and evil, its lidelity to_tragic
" pltyaiid terror," and its'g.'iieral conformity to the i)rime
strueturat-Pomtittoli^^draina, is yet rather modern than
criticaTIy'ortluKlox in its literary tjendehcies. The last act, it
is tnuT. eqi"nrnrT7rn"T^)ilJty of diction the nobility of its passion ;
t-mphasizes the art value of reserve ; is finely selective ; and
not once, it seems, falls into the tiresome mire of Common-
place, a success only partially achieved in the acts preceding.
■'ii
V-
Levi
INTIiODUCTION
In these, powerful as tliey are, Shelley straii<,'ely strikes a
few notes of undonialile Ihitiiess, his novitiate in drama, jjer-
hajjs, ill liie less inspirational nionients. iiitiini(latiii;r hi,,,.
Tlie jilay as a whole tends, like Jlelf^s and the I'rnme-
t/ieiis, toward closet drama. Tlioii^'h The Cenrl is more
immediately forcefii' tlian lirowniiig's plays in general, vet
the Promefhenx is even farther away from the stat^^e ami
stagecraft tiian Hardy's Djndsts, one of the most extreme
instances Jii modern English drama of the closet jilay. In
^ any case, the direction of the drainatic spirit of to-day is
toward mind-enactment. We are beginning to suspect play-
house pLiusibility, and to feel that jiersonal Forests of Arden
are better for us than any staged jireseiitation can possibly
he. The normal man, no doubt, even i. cultured commun-
ity, will find iu a carefully staged pe. ormance value for
both bis conscience and his fancy ; yet, as the jirogress of
tiie race is steadily away from the yL^ctiv^' to tiie subjective
(precisely as Shakesjieare's i)rogress was from the frankly
I I concrete figures of the early comedies to Hamlet and Th^
I Tc)iq>est. neither of which plays can achieve on' the stage
a success commensurate w" h its spiritual power), it is
natural that closet drama is becoming more aiid'more per-
sistent, and that we should have come to feel as well as to
admit that the theatre is only an incident —however import-
ant — in the development of the dranni, and that a play is
notgreat liist of all because it is actable. Shelley, for'his
])art, felt this very keenly. '• With the excejition of Fazio" '
wrote Peacock, " I do not remember his having been i)Ieased
with any performance at an English theatre." In his JJe-
fince nfPoetru l'« discusses at some length the history of
the dramatic idea and the weakness of the moilern stage.
His own plays, given their api)roi)riate background, will n.,t
fail of their social and spiritual ap]»eal.
^ Of his satiric and polemi- verse but little need be said.
Though keen and animated, it <io.s not convince, because
' By Henry Hart Miliuaii (1791-1808).
1
';*
INTRODUCTION
xvu
neither Shelley's luiinan exi)erience nor his tlieory of life
wa»(iuite extensive and catiiolic enoiii^^li to enal)li' him easily
to see iiuinour in folly, or love in hate. When he derides
we do not feel that he is ([iiite true to himself, and when he
argues in verse we would ratlier hear him '• tell." He would
have i)roduced less of this sort of work had he come more
fully into the spirit of his follower Browning, as expressed
in Paracelsus' dying words: —
" In my own heart lovi; had nut hccn iiiade wise
To tr.ico love's faint bef;imiinj^s in iniinkind,
To know oven liaty is but a nnusk of h)ve"s,
To see a f;i)od in evil, and a hope
In ill-sueeess ; to synii)athi/.e, be prond
Of their lialf-reasons. faint aspirings, dim
.Stru^nles for truth, their poorest fallacies.
Their i)rejudice and fears and cares and doubts;
All with a touch of nobleness, despite
Tlieir erfor, upward tendin;;- all thouf^h weak,
Like i)lants in mines which never saw the sun,
J5ut dream of him, and jfiu'ss wliere he may be,
And do their best to climb and get to him."'
Shelley's theory of evil, adinirahly hopefid though it is,
seeks to aholisli its reality ratlier than to imjjress that reality
into the service of good. He caught foregleam visions of
Paracelsus' final truth,* hut vision.s not lonir ciiouoh or
intense enough to hearten his thought of life into a st.'adicr
ami saner regard. Sicellfoot the Tyrant is not a poem that
adds to Shelley's fame, and even in the youthfid and not
ineffective Queen Muh the poet in him is uneasily con-
strained to precipitate the worser jjart of the man's hnnian
ire into footnotes. When he foregups the ungrateful busi-
ness of denunciation, and begins to sound the high and jv re
notes of the race and time to he, it is then that both he and
his readers most surely find their way.
Slii'iU^y stumiilcd somctinn-; in his jihvsical gait, yet his
habitual movcincnt was a (piick floating or gliding. It is
' See ['rum, til, lis, I, ;ji);;-;!or. ; III, iv, .']si-;;s;].
•f
' I
'4
ti
iHl
Ixviii
ISTliODl'CTION
HO ill liiK life ;iii(l liis pot-fry. Wlicri! lu- stiimbles and is
clieckcd. lie n'<;overs for a lotit^ror udviMitiire. A iiiaii of
jjeiii'trativc iiitfiitioii and restless ini:ii,'iiuni,% less anxious to
lead tlian to love, he reveals Idniself in spiril-winLCed words
as one of tlie most intimate and ])o\verfid amon^^ the stinni-
lators of the soul, the hiiilder.s of '• tliat <,n'eat j)oem," to
use his own words, "which all jxiets, like the co-operatiii"-
thoughts of one i,neat mind, have built up since the be'dii-
iiing of the world."
s
BTBLlOCRArilY
TiiK most imporlaut Sliclliy liilili()t,n"ii.liics arc t
II. Iliixtoii Foiiiiaii
A» /•;
It/ III
so of
I!i//li<iijr'i/i/i!/ — and
,lolm r. All. l.Tsnii —till! Hihlio^rai.liy appciKh-d to Sliai|."s
IJl'i' of Slu'lhij. Mention may ulso Ix; mado of Kicdcnck
S. VAV\sA An AliilKihctlnil Tulle "f ('<>iifi;Nf.< to Shrllrifs
I'lwt'ind W'nrha, adapted to tiie editions ot For
man and
W
jtti
an<
1 of C. 1). I.
lOCO'
An K
lilintinil (I
>f t/l>
the. lioilleuin Ll/mrri/. 'I'lie Shelley
invniu
al)li
S/n-llei/ MSS. Ii
Society's Pafiers anJ Publications are
Mai^^azine articles on Shelley and his works will he fonnd
listed in Poole's In'li'x to J'rrio'/ind Lite rut it r,' and TJie
(llfiil Lite rut It re. The American
in Index to Generiil Litenitnre
Header's Guide to I'er
Lihrary Association's J;
should also he consulted.
The foUovvinj^ list comprises a carefully selected mimher
of Lives, Critical Essays, Editions, and Poems concerninfj
Shelley.
EnwAUi:) Dow
LIVES AND TIKCOIIDS
DK.\: The Life »f J 'err;/ Bi/sshe Shelley.
Two vols. Kegan Paul, Trench & Co.
Same. Ahridged. Kegan Paul, T: ich & Co.
John Ai)i)iN'<iTOX Symoxds: Shellei/. . iacmdlaii.
WiMJAM SlIARl': Shellei/. Walter Scott.
Ki)\vAiii> John Trkf-awn-v: Eeeord^ <>f Shellei/, Bijron
and the Author. Pickering & Chat to.
Thomas JriKKUso.v Hooo: Life of Shelley.
Thomas Mi:I)\vix: Life of Shelh-y.
W. M. KossKTTi: Life of Shelley. Shelley Society.
Thomas Love Peacock: Memoir.^ of P'-rey /lysshe Shel-
ley.
«fiS
!,
'
JH
'■''i
{>■■
■ ■ 4
!■
i i
M
im
1
hm
Jxx
niiiLiOGiiAriiv
H. S. Salt: S/tr//,';,, A IH'xjmphh'al Sfu(hj.
Mu.s. Jii.iA.N Maksmall: L[f. and Lrltvr.nf Mary WolU
sfo,H'rr<,ft Shrllril. Two V(.I<, Hfi.tley."
I-i:ii.ii Hint: Aiituhinip-dii/u/.
iKi. \\i:r.M: JJurnrf ShdUj and Catherine Nugent.
I hi; ^\tif(i)ii^ Vol. xlviii.
Alfki
ClilTICAL ESSAYS
KoMKKT i{ii()w.\iN-(i: An Kssay on Shcllei/.
Lkslii.; Stki'Iik.v: ll,»irs in a Lil>rar>,, v(")l. iii.
iVlATTiiFw Aknold: Essaij.<i in Crifirisni.
David Massov: Words<rnrth, Shidlei, and Keats.
huwAHu DowDK.v: Sfifdirs in Literatarr.
K. H. IIuT-r.-.v: Lit, rar;, Essays. Maornillin.
Geokgk Edwaiu> Wooi.iiKKKv : Makers of Literature.
The Torch.
Wai.tku ISagkhot .• Literary Studies.
Taut, IJoritfiKT: Etudes e; Portraits.
AxintKW La.m;: Letters to Th'a,t Authors.
W. M. HossKTTi: Lires of Eanioits Poets.
EDITIONS
Works ofPerey Bysshe Shelley in Verse and Prose. Ed-
ite.l I,y Harry Buxton Fornian. Eight vols. Reeves &
Turner.
Poetieal Works of Perry Bysshe Shelley. Edited, with a
M.'mo.r. l.y Mrs. Shelley. Tu-„ v.,ls. Honf^hton. Mifflin.
Complete PoeHral Works of Shell,- y. Edited, with Menx.ir
and Notes, l.y (;eort,'e Edward Woodberry. Four vols
Ilonprhton. MiiHin.
Poetieal Works of Shelley. Edited, with Menx.ir and
Notes, l.y W. M. R,,ssetti. Three vols.
Poems of Shrllry. Edit...! by Edward Dowden. (Globe
edition) Macniillan.
Poems of Shrlley. Edited by Geor.^e E. Woodberrv. (Cum-
biiiigu edition) iioii^d,ton, MiiHin.
BIIiLIOGIiArilY
Ixxi
A,hmn'i.i. Editofi by W. M. Uossotti. Clarondon Press.
A'/'ni'iis and AInstnr. Edited l)y CMiarlcs G. D- R()l>crta.
Silver. Hiirdett.
I'nuiirt/ieiis Uuhnund. Edited by Vida I). ScudtU'r. HcaUi.
Srirrt J'oniis ofShilleii. E<litc.i l>y W. .1. AIexan(U>r. (Jinn.
/•;.sN-/_v.s- a/(-/ Letters hij J'erri/ lii/sshe ij/idlei/. Edited by
Ernest Kliys. Walter S.olt.
P<i('iiix of Shdlrij. Selected and Arrant,rcd by Stopford A.
Brooke. Macmillan.
Wltli S/iellei/ in Itnli/. Selected Poems and Letters.
Edited i>y Anna I). McMaban. aieClurg.
POEMS CONCERNING SHELLEY
Rni'.KRT BROWNlxr. : Memorabilia ; rauline (beginning,
" I ne'er bad ventured e'en to bope for tbis ").
Lkkjh Hunt : Sonnet to SJiellei/.
AViLLiAM Watsox: To Edward Dnwdeiu on his Life of
ShdU'ii ; Shelley s Centenary; Shelley and Harriet.
Andkf.w LAN(i: San Terenzo ; Lines on the Inaugural
Meeting of the Shelley Society.
Edmund Clarence Stedman: Ariel.
Paul BouR'ip:T : Sur nn Volume de Shelley.
I). G. RossETTi: Percy Bysshe Shelley.
W. ]\L RossKTTi : Shelley's Heart.
,T. B. Tahb : Shelley. A Sonnet.
Georck E. Woodberry: Shelley, A Sonnet; Shelley s
House.
Algernon Charles Swinburne : Cor Cordium.
Oliver Wendell Holmf^s : After a Lecture on Shelley.
V rh!
iM'li
^^
^-
POEMS OF
PERCY 15YSSHE SHELLEY
STANZAS — Al'RIL. 1.S14
AwAV I the moor is daik btnieatli tlu- moon,
K;il)i<l clouds have diuuk the last pale beam of evi'ii :
Away ! the {^atheiinjj winds will call the darkuens
soon.
And profoiuidt'st midnight shroud the serene lights
of heaven.
Pause not! the time is past! Every voice cries,
Away ! ^'
Tempt not with one last tear thy friend's ungentle
mood :
Thy lover's eye, so gla /.ed and cold, dares not entreat
thy stay :
Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.
Away, awn ! to thy sad and silent home ;
Pour bitter tears on its .esolated hearth ; lU
Watch the dim shades as like ghosts they go and
come
And compile; e strange webs of melancholy mirth.
The leaves of wasted autumn woods shall float around
thine head,
The blooms of dewy Spi ing shall gleam beneath
thy feet :
But thy soul or this world must fade in the frost that
binds the dead, 15
Ere midniirht's frown and morning's smile, ere thou
and peace, may meet.
or
••*
m
m
^ TO COLKhlDCK
The cloud sIkuIows of inidiii^nt possess tlieir own
n'posc,
F<»r lln! weary wiinls are silent, or the moon is in
tlie deep •
^""i" i"'"^' its turhulenee unresting oeean
knows
Wiiatever n. ts, or toils, or grieves, hath its ap-
jxtinted sleep. ^0
Thou in the grave slialt rest — yet, till the phantoms
flee
Which that house and heath and garden made dear
to thee ere while,
Thy rememhrance, and repentance, and deep musings,
are not free
From the nnisie of two voices, and the light of ono
sweet smile.
TO CO LK RIDGE
AAKPT2I AIOI2n nOTMON AnOTMON
O, there are spirits in the air.
And genii of the evening breeze.
And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fair
As starheams among twilight trees : —
Such lovely ministers to meet
Oft hast thou turned from men thy lonely feet.
AV'ith mountain winds, and babbliu"' sl)rin'^s
And moonlight seas, that are the voice
Of these inexplicable thinjrs.
Thou didst hold commune, and rejoice
"When they did answer thee : but tliev
Cast, like a worthless boon, thy love away.
10
TO WOliDSWOUTH
And tlum li;i>t sought in Ktariy «'Vps
IVjiiiis tli;it were iu!ver iiiL-ant for thine.
Aiiotlu'i's \v»!altli :
taiiu! sacrilicc
15
T(» a fond faith I Still dost thou pine?
Still dost thou hope that j^reetinj; hands,
\'oii'e, looks, or lips, may answer thy demands?
Ah I wherefore didst tiiou hnild thine hope
On the false <!artirs inconstancy? li)
Did thine own mind atTord no scope
Of love, '»r niovinj; thoughts to thee?
That natural scenes or human smiles
Could steal the power to wind thee in their wiles.
Yes, all the faithless smihs arc; fled 25
Whose falsehood hift thee liroken-hearted ;
The j^lory of the moon is dead ;
Night's ghosts and dreams have now departed :
Thine own soul still is tine to thee,
liut changed to a foul fiend through misery. 30
This jnd, whose ghastly presence ever
]k'side thee like thy shadow liangs.
Dream not to chase ; — the mad endeavour
Would scourge thee to severer pangs.
Be as thou art. Thy settled fate, 35
Dark as it is, all change would ajr<rravate.
1815.
TO WORDSWORTH
PoKT of Nature, thou liast wept to know
That things de])art which never may return ;
Childhood and youth, f riendsliip, and love's first glow,
Have fled like sweet dreams, leaving thee to mourn.
m
t
A srMMEh EVKMXt; CiniiCIIYAllD
These (Mtiniiion woes I feel. One loss is mine, 5
Wliioli tlioii too feel'st, yet I alone deplore :
Tlioii wcrt as a lone star, whose li^lit did shine
On s((nie frail hark in winter's niidni^dit roar:
'Jlion liast lilv(( to u roeU-l>uilt refuse s^) ••'
Al)ove the hlind and battlinii;- nniltitn 10
Jn honoui-ed poveity thy voice did we:
Son^s eonseci-ite to truth and liberty , —
Desciinin' these, thou leavest nie to i;rieve,
Thus having been, that thou shouldst cease to be.
1S15.
A SUMMKR EVENING CIIl'RCHYARD
LECIILADi:. GLOlCKSTEKSIlIIiE
The wiiul has swept from the wide atniosj)here
Kaeh vapour that obscured the sunset's ray;
And pallid evenin<;- twines its beaininn- hair
In duskier braids around the langiud eyes of day.
Silence and twilij^^ht, uid)eloved of men, 5
Creej) hand in hand from yon obscurest glen.
They lireathe their sjxills towards the di'parting day,
Kiicom])assin^' the earth, air, stars, and sea;
Light, sound, and motion own the ]iotent swav,
Kesponding to the cliarm v.ith its own mystery. 10
The winds are still, or th«.' ''rv churcii towei- trrass
Knows not their gentle ni' tioiis as tlu'y pass.
riiou too, ac'i'ial Pile, whose iiinnados
Point fi'om one si
u'Mie
lik.
Ob
pun
ram His o
f fi
re.
'V st in silence their sweet nolemn spells, 15
Clothing in hues of he en thy dim and distant spire,
LINES
Arouiitl whose lesseninf^ and invisihle hcijj^ht
(jatlicr ainoii'T the stars the clouds of iii^ht.
!
The dead are sleei)iiij;' in tlieir sepulchres;
And, nioulcU'rini;- as they sleep, a thrilling sound, 'JO
Half sense, half thought, among tlie darkness stirs,
Iheathed fronj their wormy beds all living- things
around ;
And, mingling with the still night and mute sky,
its awful hush is felt inaudibly.
Tims solemnized and softened, death is mild 25
And terrorless as tiiis sereiiest night :
Here could 1 Iiope, like some incniring child
Sporting on graves, that death did hide from human
sijiht
Sweet secrets, or beside its breathless sleep
That loveliest dr'^ams perpetual watch did keep. 30
JSi^ptunibur, 181").
LINES
The cold earth slept below,
Above the cold sky shone ;
And all around,
With a chilling sound.
From caves of ice and fields of snow 5
The breath of night like death did flow
lieneath the sinking moon.
The wintry hedge was black.
The green grass was not seen,
Tlie birds did rest 10
On the bare thorn's breast.
(
n
1
-:
\..
\'i
"■'p
^ ■
f
■-■* A
1
6
THE SUNSET
Whose roots, hoside the pathway track,
Had bound th^-ir folds o'er many a crack
U liich the fiost had made betwee".
Thine eyes j;h)\ved in the ijlare \-
Of the moon's dvinf li<>lif •
As a fen-fire's beam
On a .sluggish stream
Oleams dimly — so the moon shone there,
And it yellowed the strings of tliy raven hair,
That shook in the wind of ni-dit. 21
Tlie moon made thy lij.s i)ale, beloved ;
The wind made thy bosom chill;
The night did shed
On thy dear head
Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie
Where the bitter breath of the naked sky
Might visit thee at will.
NoveiiibtT, 1S15.
25
THE SUNSET
There late was One, within wliosc subtle being,
As light and wind within some delicate cloud
That fades amid the blue noon's burnin-r sky
Genius and death contended. None mav know
i he sweetness of the jov which made hi's breath 5
iMil, like the trances of the summei- aii.
When, with the Lady of his love, who tlien
First knew the univserve of mingled being,
He walked along the pathway of a field,
Which to the east a hoar wood shadowed o'er, lo
iiiit to the west was open to tlie sky.
THE SUNSET i
Tlmro now the sun liad sunk, but linos of ^nUl
llii.ii; on the ashon (,'h)U(ls, and on the pointn
Of tiio far level <;rass an<i noddiu}; tiowevs,
And the old dandelion's hoary beanl, 15
And, mingled with the shades of twilig^ht, lay
On the brown massy woods — and in the east
The l)road and burning moon lingeringly rose
1^'tween the blaek trunks of the crowded trees,
Wliile the faint stars were gathering overhead. 20
■•' Is it not strange, Isabel," said the youth,
*' I never saw the sun ? W»i will walk here
To-morrow ; thou shalt look on it with me."
That night the youth and lady mingled lay
In love and sleep — but when the morning came 25
The lady found her lover dead and cold.
Let none believe that (iod in mercy gave
Tiiat stroke. The lady died not, nor grew wild,
But year by year lived on — in truth I think
Her gentleness and patience and sad smiles, 30
And that she did not die, but lived to tend
Her aged father, were a kind of madness,
If madness 'tis to be unlike the world.
For but to see her were to read the tale
Woven by some subtlest bard, to make hard hearts
Dissolvt! away in wisdom-working grief ; — 36
Her eyelashes were worn away with tears,
Iler lips and cliceks were like things dend — so pale;
Her hiinds were thin, and thrangh their wan ^^ring
veins
And weak articulations might be seen 40
Day's ruddy light. The tond) of thy doad self
Which one vexed ghost inhabits night and day,
Is all, lost child, that now remains of thee !
m
!i-
■til
iff
fi i.
,'J
8
IIYMX TO INTELLECTUAL BEAUTY
vo,
" Inhoritor of more tliaii earth can <>-i
r;i,^.si,,nless calm, and silence nnn). roved, 4.«;
Whether the dead llnd, (di, not sleep! hnt n-st,
And are the nneoniplainiiij; things they >eem,
Or live, or drop in the deep sea of Love ;
Oh, that like tliine, mine ei)itai)h were Peace!"
This was the only moan she ever made. 50
1810.
HYMN TO INTKLLECTUAL BEAUTY
TllK awful shadow of some unseen Wnwr
Floats though unseen amoufj us ; visiting
This various woild with as inconstant whijr
As summer winds that creep f,om Hoover t<, Hower.
Like moonbeams that behind some j .ny mouL in
shower, _
T . . O
it visits with inconstant glau ^
Each human heart and countenanc* ;
Like hues and harmonies of eveninf,
Like clouds in starlight widely si)read,
Like memory of music fled, ]q
Like aught that for its grace may be
Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery.
^Spirit of IJkattv, that dost consecrate
With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon
Of human thought or form, where art thou gone'> 1.5
Why dost thou pass away and leave our stat^.
This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate?
Ask why the s-inlight not for «'ver
Weaves rainbows o'er yon mountain river •
Whv aught shouhl fail ami fade that once is shown;
V\ hy fear and dream and death and birth 21
Cast on the daylight of this earth
HYMN TO IMKLLKCrrAL liEAUTY
9
Such j^loom ; why in:in has such a scope
Vov love and hatt;, despoiKh'ncy aiul hope.
No voice i loni some suhliiiier uuilil hath ever 2r<
To saj^e or poet these res])onses j^iven ;
Tlieiefore the names of Demon, (iliost, and Heaven,
Kemain the records of tlieir vain endeavour:
Frail spells, w ose uttered charm might not avail to
sever.
From all wv hoar and all we see, 30
I)oul)t, chance, and mutability.
Thv Vv^ht alone, lilu' mist o'er mountains driven,
( 'r music by the niijjht wind sent
Through strings of some still instrument,
Or moonliirht on a midniiiht stream, ^'i
Givts grace and truth to life's unquiet dream.
Love, Hope, and Self-esteem, like clouds, depart
And come, for some uncertain moments lent.
Man were inunortal and omnipotent,
Didst thou, unknown ami awful as thou art, 40
Keep with thy glorious train *irm state within his
heart.
Thou messenger of sym])athies
That wax and wane in lovers' eyes :
Tliou, that to human thouglit art nourishment,
Like darkness to a <lying flame; 45
Depart not as thy shadow came!
Depart not, lest the grave should be,
Like life and fear, a dark reality !
While y ■ a boy, 1 sought for ghosts, and sped
Through many a listening chamber, cave, and ruin,
And starlight wood, with fearfid steps puj-suing T)'
f
•I
m
10
//r.V.V TO ISTKLLKCTUAL liEAUTY
Hopos of l.i-h i.ilk witli tho (l(.j)art<'(I dead ;
I called oii iwisonous iiamos witli wjiich our youth is
fed.
I was -lot lioard, I saw tliom not:
Wlieii, iiuisii)<r deeply on the lot 55
Of life, at that sweet tini(> when winds arc woo-
All vital thini;s that wake to bring
News of birds and Idossoniing,
Sudden thy shadow fell on me :
1 shrieked, and clasped n.y hands in ecstasy ! 60
I vowed that I would dedicate my powers
To thee and thine: have I not kept the vow^
With beating heart and streaming eves, even now
i call the phantoms of a thousand hours
Each from his voiceless grave: they have in visioned
bowers
Of studious zeal or love's delight
Outwatehed with me the envious night:
They know that never joy ilhuned my^row,
Unlinked with hope that thou wonldst free
This world from its dark slavery, 70
That thou, O awful Lovklinkss,
Wouldst give whate-er these words cannot express!
The day becomes more solemn and serene
When noon is past : then' is a harmony
In autumn, and a lustre in its sky, 75
Which through the summer is not he'ard or seen
As if It could not be, as if it h:ul not been !
Thus let thy ])ower, which lik«! the truth
Of nature on my {)assive youth
Descended, to my onward life sui)ply
3/O.VT liLAW
11
Its oalin, to Olio who worsliips thee,
And every form contMiiiiii^; thee.
Whom, Si'iKlT fair, tliy spells did hind
To fear himself, and love all huinankiiKl.
1810.
MONT BLANC
LINES WUITTKN I\ TlIK VALK OF ClIAMOUNI
The everhisting universe of thinj^s
Flows tluough the mind, and rolls its rapid waves,
Now dark — now <rlitterin<r — now retleetinj; jiloom —
Now lending splendour, where from secret sj)rings
The source of human thought its tribute brings 5
Of waters, — with a sound but half its own,
Such as a feeble brook will oft assume
In the wild woods, among the mountains lone,
Where waterfalls around it leap for ever,
AVhere woods and winds contend, and a vast river 10
Over Its rocks ceaselessly bursts and raves.
i '
1
II
Thus thou, Kavine of Arve — dark, deep Ravine —
Thou many-coloured, many-voiced vale.
Over whose pines and crags and caverns sail
Fast cloud-shadows and sunbeams; awful scene, 1')
Where Power in likeness of the Arve comes down
Fr()m the ice-gulfs that gird his secret throne,
liur-^tiu"'" throuiih these dark mountains like the flame
Of lightning thrcnigh the teni])est ; — thou dost lie.
Thy giant brood of ])ines around thee (dinging, JO
Children o{ elder time, in whose devotion
) t
I ■
h
-i i
} ^^-fj
12
MOXr lil.ASc
Tl
!<• (•li:iirilf>;s winds still
'i\i
•'"'>"' aiid ever rntne
'";l"nktlH.ir.M|uu..s. un.l th.-ir nn^l.t v .u in-in-
'•• '"•■"• •"' "Mniid .s,.lcM,„ l,;,nn.m\": " "
ll.u,....:n.l.ly ,;.inl.owssfn.t..|,...l;.,-n;ss,lu.sw.rp -o
Ot tiK. ctlu'n.al \v:it,M-f;,ll, ul„.>r v.il
Iw.l...ssn,.n. „nM.„l,..,nv.ii„n;^..; th. strange sloop
>MMr|,, ulirn thf. v(,i,.,.s of the <l,..s,.,t fail, "
^^ i-ips all in its ,,\vn (l,.<.|) rtcrnity :
Tl.yrav..,ns....l,nin^t.>tlH. .\rv,.-;;..,nMn.,tion
A loM.I. I„n,. s.M.n.l. no ,.tl,e.•so^n,|,^•u,taM.e•
^ -nart,,.Mva.l..,lwi,l. tl,atn.as,-l..ssn,o.io„;
''""•arttl... ,,at!, oftl>atnn,rstini,.soniul
Di/zy Ravin." : and whrn I naxc on tluv,
I sn-nia. in a trance .sul.lin.c and stran-e
lo nins,. on my own separate fantasy,
^ly own. ,ny human mind, whidi i)assivdy
.Now renders ami rtn-eives fast InHnen.-in-s,
Holdin,i,r an unrcmittinn^ interclian<--e
With the clear nniverse of things lonnd :
One leomn of wild thon^hts, whose wandering win^^c
Wfl.,atahov..,hy darkness, and now rest
U here that or thon art m, n.d.idden guest,
In the still o.tve of the witch l>oesv,
Seeking au>ono the shadows that pass l>v
M.osts of all things that are. some shade'of thee
Sou, l.antom. son.e fain, image : till the breast
^•'-'» -l^'^-I' tl-'V fled nvalls them, thou art there'
3,'5
40
igs
in
S.Mne say that gleams of a remoter world
\ .s.t the sonl in sleep. - that death is shnnher, r,n
Am that .tsslK.pes the imsy thoughts outnumber
ttl'ose who wake an.l live. I look on high;
lias some unknown (Munipotence unfurhuf
Moyi liLASC
Tlio v:ile of lifo aiul deutli ? Or do I lie
III dream, and docs tln3 miyliticr world of sleep
Spread far around and inaeet,'ssil)ly
Its cirejes.- for the very spirit fails,
Driven lik<' a liomeless eloiid from steep to steep
That vani>hes ainoni; the viewless _i,Mles I
13
l.h
60
65
Far, far aliove, piereing the infinite sky,
Mont IMane apj)ears, - still, snowy, anil serene —
Its sid)ject mountains their unearthly forms
Pile around it, iee and roeU ; broail vales between
()!' frozen Hoods, unfathoniahle deeps.
Blue as the overhani;in<; heaven, that spread
And wind amon<; the aeetnnulated steei)s ;
A desert peopled hy the storms alone,
Save when the ea<;le l>rin<;s some hunter's hone.
Ami tiie wolf traeks her there — how hideously
Its shapes are heaped around I rude, hare, and hi<,'li, 70
(Jhastly, and searred, and riven. — Is this the seene
Where the old Karth(piake-d:emon taught her young
Kuin ? Were these their toys? or did a sea
Of fire envelojje once this silent snow ?
Nt)ne ean re]>ly — all seems eternal now.
The wilderness has a n\ysterious tongue
Whieh teaehes awful douht. or faith so mild,
So solemn, so serene, that man may be.
Hut for sueh faith, with nature reeoneiled:
Thou h:ist a voiee, great Mountain, to repeal
Lar"e eodes of fraud and woe ; not understood
r>y all, but whieh the wise, and great, and good
Interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel.
75
SO
IV
The fields, the lakes, the forests, and the streams,
Ocean, and all the living things that dwell 86
:zk --V^ii^,.
. J
'f^
t -
:>^i
14
MONT II LAN C
11
)0
100
AN itlnn tlu,- .labial earth ; ]\<^hUuu<r a,,,! rain,
Karth.,„ak,., and (lery ll„„.l, an.l lu.nicaiu.,
J li.| toij.„r ,»f til,- vcar wli.-i, f.cl,!,. .ii.ai.is'
Visit flic hi.l.ien ImmIs, ,„• (hvaiiilcss sl,.i.|,
JIol.ls..vn-vf„tine]caf..,M.lHnw,.r,- tl..- l,o,.,„l
\ III. \vlii..h fiu.n that ,I,.tc..st.Ml trance, they haj. •
i he works an.I ways of n.an, their .Icath an.i I.ir'th,
And that of him, an.l all that his inav l.c •
All thinj^s that move and breathe with toil and sound
Are horn and die, revolve, snhside, and swell. 'r,
lowvr (hvclls apart in its tran<,nillitv,
Kemote, serene, and inaeeessil.le :
And t/ds, the naked eoiintenance of earth,
On which I j,raze, even these i.rimeval monntains,
leach the advertino; mi,,,]. The o]a,icrs ereej.
l^ike snakes that watch their j.rey, from their far
fountains,
Slow rollinjr o„ ; there, many a precipice
Wst and the Snn in scorn of mortal power
Have piled - dome, pyrami.l, and pinnacle,
A city of death, distinct with many a tower
And wall imi.re-nahle of beaming- iee.
^et not a city, but a Hood of ruin
Is there, that from the boundaries of the sky
K'olls its perpetual stream; vast pines are strewin-
ts .Icstined ,,atli, or in the man-led soil "no
Jiranchless an.l shatteied stand ; the rocks, drawn
down
From yon remotest waste, have overthrown
1 he limits of the dead and livin- world,
Never to be reclaimed. The dweilin-iJace
()t insects^ beasts, ami birds, becom:; its spoil; 115
ilieir food and their retieat for ever -one
So much of liie and joy is lost. The Tace '
105
1
MOST ML we
16
( )f iiiuii fl'u's far it) iliead ; liis work :ui(l (Iwclliiig
Vanish, lik(! siiioUf hi-forc tli«' ttiii|i('stV. -^frcain.
Ami tlu-ir place is not known. I»«low, vast raves I.O
Sliine in tlic iiisliinL; toircnts' icstlc^s j^k-ani,
Wliidi, from those sccirct chasms 'i; tiinnilt wollinj^,
Mrtt in till! Vale, anil oiii! majcst,, Kivt'r,
The hieath and hiood ot distant lands, for ever
Kolls its lond waters to the ocean waves, I'JS
Uieuthes its swift vapours to the cirelinj^ air.
Mont Hlanc! yet jj^leams on hij;h ; — the j)ower is there,
The still and solemn power, of many si<;hts
Ami many s'Muids, and mneh <»f life and death.
In the calm darkness of the moonless nij,dits, I'M
In the lone j;lare of day, the snows descend
Upon that mountain ; none Ixludds them there,
Nor when the Hakes burn in the sinking sun.
Or the star-l)eam> dart through them: — Winds con-
tend
Silently there, and heajt the snow, with breath 135
Rapid and strong, but silently ! Its home
The voiceless lightning in these solitudes
Keeps innocently, and like vapour broods
Over the snow. The secret strength of things
Which governs thought, and to the inlinite dome I f(i
( )f heaven is as a law, inhabits thee I
And what were thou, and earth, and star^, and sea.
If to the human mind's imaginings
Silence and solitude were vacancy V
June 2;;, 181(i.
¥
n
m i
■.^ri
MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART
ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No 2
1.0
I.I
1.25
ti.
Ill 2.8
ilM
m
1^
1.4
I 2.5
IZ2
2.0
1.8
1.6
^p^ "153 fas' Main Street
r.= - Chester. Ne« York 14609 U^
= 16) 48? - 0300 - Phone
=: 16) 288 - 5989 - Fa%
' ««« m i L i ,, i I
IG
TO CUNSTANTIA. SLXGING
r'-O CONSTANTIA, SINGING
Thus to be lost and thus to sink and die,
Perchance were death indeed ! —Con^tantia, turn!
In tliy dark eyes a jmwer like lij^ht doth lie,
p]ven though the soundi? which were thy voice, which
burn
Between thy lips, are laid to sleep; 5
Within thy breath and on thy hair, like odour it is
yet,
And from thy touch like fire doth leap.
Even while I write, my burning cheeks are wet,
Alas, that the torn heart can bleed, but not for"-et !
A breathless awe, like the swift change 10
Unseen but felt in youthful slumbers,
A\ ild, sweet, but uncomnnuiicably strano-e.
Thou breathest now in fast ascending numbers.
The cope of heaven seems rent and cloven
By the enchantment of thy strain, 15
And on my shoulders wings are woven,
To follow its sublime career.
Beyond the mighty moons tliat wane
Ujton the verge of natiire's utmost sphere,
Tdl tht! world's shadowy walls are past and disap-
pear.
Iler voice is liovering o'er my soul — it lingers 21
O'ershadowing it witli soft and lulling wings.
The blood and life within those snowv fim^ers
ieacli Witchcraft to the instrumental strings.
My brain is wild, my breath comes quick 25
The blood is listening in my frau'e.
And thronging shadows, fast and thick,
SONNET — OZA'MANDIAS
Fall on my overHowinf? eyes;
My heart is (|uivering like a Haine ;
As morning dew, that in the sunbeam dies,
I am dissolved in these consuming ecstasies.
17
30
35
4t>
I have no life, Constantia, now, l)nt thee.
Whilst, like the world-surrounding air, thy song
Flows on, and fills all things with melody.
Now is thy voice a tempest swift and strong,
On which, like one in traroe upborne,
Se(!ure o'er rocks and waves I Svveep,
Keioicinir like a cloud of morn ;
Now 'tis the breath of summer night,
Which, when the starry waters sleep
Kound western isles with incense-blossoms bright,
Lingering, suspends my soul in its voluptuous Hight.
1817.
SONNET — OZYM ANDIAS
I MET a traveller from an antique land
Who said : " Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand.
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold eonnnand, 5
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed ;
And on tlie pedestal these words appear:
' My name is Ozymandias, king of kings :
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and desi)airl'
Notiiing beside rcjuains. Kound the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away."
IS 17.
rii
10
1£:
i":b
i Ml
• I
.a;
18
LINE TO A CRITIC
LINES
That time is dead for evor, eliild,
Drowned, fro/en, dead for ever!
We look on the i)ast,
And stare af^hast
At tlie spectres wailing, pale, and gliast,
Of hopes which thou and I heguiled
To death on life's dark river.
The stream we gazed on then, rolled by ;
Its waves are nnreturninff;
lint we yet stand
In a lone land.
Like tombs to mark the memory
Of hopes and fears which fade and fly
In the liglit of life's dim morning.
November 5, 1817.
10
LINES TO A CRITIC
Honey from silkworms who can gather,
Or silk from the yellow bee ?
The grass may grow in winter weather
As soon as hate in me.
Hate men who cant, and men who pray,
And men who rail like thee;
An equal ])assion to repay, —
Tliey are not coy like me.
Or seek some slave of power and gold,
To be thy dear heart's mate ,
10
ON A FADED VIOLET
19
Thy love will iiiovo that bigot cold,
Sooner than mo thy hate.
A jiassion like the one I prove
( 'aiuiot, (livi<h'(l be ;
J iiate thy want of truth and love — 15
I low should I then hate tiiee?
I)t'cciiil)ir, 1S17.
PASSAGE OF THE APENNINES
Listen, listen, Mary mine.
To the whisper of the Apennine ;
It bursts on the roof like the thunder's roar,
Or like the sea on a northern shore.
Heard in its raginj; ebb and flow 6
By the captives pent in the cave below.
The Apennine in the light of day
Is a mighty mountain dim and gray.
Which between the earth and sky doth lay ;
But when night comes, a chaos dread 10
On the dim starlight then is spread.
And the Apennine walks abroad with the storm.
May 4, 1818.
ON A FADED VIOLET
The odour from the flower is gone
Which like thy kisses breathed on me ;
The colour from the flower is flown
"Which glowed of thee and only thee !
A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form,
It lies on my abandoned breast,
20 WRITTEW .1.VO.V.7 THE El HAXEAX HILLS
And mocks tlio heart wliidi yot is warm,
With cold and silent rest.
I \\vv]\ — tny trars revive; it not I
I siL,fh, — it l))eathes no more on mo;
Its mute and iineom})lainiiif;- Jot
Is such as mine slionid l)e.
isis.
10
LINES WRITTEN AMONCJ THE EUGANEAN
HILLS
Many a green isle needs must be
In the deej) wide sea of misery,
Or the mariner, worn and wan,
Never thus could vovajre on
Day and niulit, and night and day,
Drift
lUiT on
his d
AVith the solid darli
reary way.
ness
black
Closing round his vessel's track ;
AVhilst above, the sunless sky,
Hig with clouds, hangs heavily ;
And behind, the tempest fieet
Hurries on with lightning feet,
Kiving sail, ami cord, and ])lank,
Till the shiji has almost drank
Death from the o"er-brinuning deep,
And sinks down, down, like that sleep
When the dreamer seems to bo
Weltering through eternity;
And the dim low line before
Of a dark and distrint shore
Still i'eced(>s, as ever still
Longing v.llh divided wiii,
10
15
20
I
li
WRITTEN AMOya THE EU<iANEAN HILLS 21
lint no power to seek or shun,
He is evei' drifted on
()"er the nnieposini; wave
To till' liaven of the t^rave.
Wliat if tlieie no fiieiids will greet;
What if tliere no heart will meet
His with love's impatient heat;
AVander wheresoe'er he may.
Can he dream before that day
T-j find refuge from distress
In friendship's smile, in love's caress?
Then 'twill wreak him little woe
Whether such there be or no :
Senseless is the breast, and cold,
Which relenting love would fold;
Bloodless are the veins and chill
Which the pulse of i)ain did fill ;
Every little living nerve
That from bitter words did swerve
Round the tortured Imik, and brow,
Are like sapless leaflets now
Frozen upon December's bough.
On the beach of a northern sea
Which tempests shake eternally,
As once the wretch there lay to sleep,
Lies a solitary heap.
One white skull and seven dry bones,
On the margin of the stones,
Where a few gray rushes stand,
Boundaries of the sea and land:
Nor is heard one voice of wail
But the seamews, as they sail
.-,.1.
0.1 1 -ii r xi- . I.. .
er liiu uiiio>\s oi Liii; ji **'''' '
25
30
35
40
45
50
55
• " 'fit
i3'
^i i
00
^ WRITTEN AMoyc THE EUdASEAN HILLS
Or the wliirlwiml up and down
I!()\vliii;:r, like Ji shiuj^htuiod town,
When a Idng- in glory rides
Throngh the pomp of fratricides:
Those unhuried hones around
There is many a mourn Ful sound ;
There it: no lament for him,
Like a sunless vapour, dim,
WIio onee clothed with life and thought
What now moves nor murmurs not.
Ay, many flowerinn^ islands lie
In the waters of wide A<;ony:
To such a one this morn was led
My l)ark, by soft winds ])iIoted.
'Mid the mountains Enyanean,
I stood listening to the jnean
With which the Icgioned rooks did hail
The Sim's uprise majestical ;
Gathering round with wings all lioar,
Through the dewy mist they soar
Like gray shades, till the eastern heaven
Bursts, and then, as clouds of even,
Flecked with lire and azure, lie
In the unfathomable sky,
So their plumes of purple grain.
Starred with drojjs of golden rain,
Gleam above the sunlight woods,
As in silent multitudes
On the morning's fitful gale
Through the broken mist they sail,
And the va])ours cloven and gleamino-
Follow down the dark steep streaming-
T;ij .,11 ;.. \...:.A L 1 , , ... °'
-i.ii «ii i- uMg.ii, iiiiu Clear, imu stiii
V 1 *'■ . j;. i,;ii
GO
05
70
80
85
i)
WRITTEN AMOSC THE f:U<;.\SEAN IIILLS
Btii't'citli is spii'iid like :i grt-en sea
)h
)f Lonihiirily,
waveie
ounded by the va{)()ious air,
Tl
n
Islaiuled by cities fair.
UiultM-neatli day's azr.re eyes,
Ocean's nnrsliiii;, Venice lies, —
A peopled labyrinth of walls,
Anipliitrite's destined balls.
Which her hoary sire now paves
AVitli his blue and beaniinj;' waves.
Lol the sun upsprini;s behind,
15road, retl, radiant, lialf-reclined
On the level (piiverinj^ line
Of the waters crystalline :
And biifore that chasm of liylit,
As within a furiuice brij;ht.
Column, tower, and dome, and spire.
Shine like obelisks of fire,
I'ointing with inconstant motion
From the altar of dark ocean
To the sapphire-tinted skies ;
As the flames of sacrifice
From the marble shrines did rise,
As to pierce the dome of fijold
Where Apollo spoke of old.
Sun-girt City ! thou hast been
Ocean's child, and then his queen;
Now is come a darker day,
And thou soon must be his prey.
If the i)ower that raised thee here
Hallow so thy watery bier.
A less drear ruin then than now,
*> itii tiiy cOimUcSt-OraiiuOu OiOW
23
00
95
luu
1U5
110
115
120
t
-J,.
m
i
. It
I
!■ i
« ■■
IS:
24 wniTTKy AMoxt; Tin: hi(;.\\EAN hills
St()()j)iii;^ to tin; shivi' of slaves
From tliv tliroiic. :iiiioii<( tin- waves
If siaiiiew
Wilt tlioii lu', wlic'ii tl
Flies, as oiict- Itcfon- it flew,
O'er thine isles (lepopulate,
Aihi all is ill its ancient state,
Save where inaiiv a palaee-^ato
\\ itii "rreeii sea-tlowt-rs overirrown
I
jiKe a r()(
k of
(H-ean s own.
Topjiles o'ei' the abandoned sea
As the tides change snllenly.
The fisher on his watery wav,
AVanderlnj;' at the close of day.
Will
spread his sai
1 and
seize his oar.
Till he ])ass the i^^loonjy sh()re.
Lest the dead should, from their sleep
liurstinj; o'er the starlight deep,
Lead a rapid inas(pie of death
O'er the waters of his j)ath.
l-V
VM)
135
110
I i
Those who alone thy towers behold
Qnivering thronf^h ai-rial j;'<'l<l,
As I now behold them here.
Would imaj,nne not they were
Sepulchres, where luiman forms,
Like pollution-nourished worms,
To the corpse of f^reatness clin<;,
Murdered and now mouldei-in"- :
But if Freedom should awake
In her omnipotence, and shake
From the Celtic Anarch's hold
All the keys of dungeons cold,
Where a hundred cities Wo
145
150
155
I
WlilTTK.y .\M<).\<; THE KraASEAN HILLS
Thoii and all tliy sister hand
Mij^lit adorn tliin sunny land,
TwiiiinL;" nit'nn)rics of old tiino
AV'ith new virtut'S more sublime;
If not, perish thou and they ;
Clouds which stain truth's rising day
l\y her sun consumed away.
Earth can spare ye; while like flowers,
Jn the waste of years and hours.
From your dust nc nations spring
'With more kindly blossonnng.
2.5
IGO
IG5
i
Perish ! let there only be
Floating o'er thy hearthless sea,
As the garment of thy sky
Clothes the world immortaMy, 170
One remembrance, more sublime
Than the tattered jiall of Time,
"Which scarce hides thy visage wau:
That a tempest-cleaving swan
Of the songs of Albion, 175
Driven from his ancestral streams
By the might of evil dreams,
Found a nest in thee ; and ocean
Welcomed him with such emotion
That its joy grew his, and sprung 180
From his lips like music flung
O'er a mighty thunder-lit.
Chastening terror : what though yet
Poesy's unfailing river,
"Which thiou;;;h Albion winds for ever, 1&5
Lashing with melodious wave
^lany a sacred poet's grave,
■» f -i _ i_ j._ i. i: jj..,l t
;:(
tf
'
I
)
m
20 117.7 /•77;.v i.vovf,' riih: Kr(;.\M: i.y lULLs
What tli.)iii;li thou with :ill thy ilfa.l
Sc:»rc(,' can for tliis faint' repay
Alight tliiiif own. - oil, lathtT sav,
Though tliy ,Nin> and .shivcrics foul
Overcloud a suniilic soid !
As the L;host of Ilouicr clinLjs
Jioiiiid Scauiaiidcr's waNtiiiL; sprin-^s
As diviiH'st ShakHsj),.;ii»''s \u\'j\\t
Fills Avon and the world witii li-lit.
Like oniniscicnt power, wliith he
Iina,i,'('d "mill inortalitv:
As the love from IN'tiarch's urn
"iet amid yon hills doth i»urri,
A (pienchless lamp, by which th.- heart
Sees things unearthly : so thou art,
Mi-hty spirit : so shall l)e
The city that did refu'-e thee.
Lo. the sun floats uj) the sky,
Like thon;iht-wiiiL;ed Liberty,
Till the universal li^iht
Seems to level i)]aiu and hei-ht ;
From the sea a mist has spread,
AmX the beams of morn lie dead
On the toners of \'eniee now,
Like its j;lory loui,'' a^o.
By the skirts of that -ray cloud
Many-domed Padua proud
Stands, a peopled solitude,
'Mid the barvest-shining plain.
Where the poasmt heaps his -rain
Li the garner of his foe,
And the milk-white oxen slow
purple vintage strain,
I'JU
VM
•JOO
;oo
no
215
<• ilii tUc
220
WIUTTKX AMt).\(;
/■ T', I.VA I.V IIIL[.>
IIc.'ipcil iipon tin- crr.ikiiiL: wviiii,
Tliitt till- linit:il ( '<■]{ iiiav swill
Driiiikcri >lrt|) Willi >;iv:i'4(' will;
And tilt' Mc.Jf t(» tlie sword
liicH mii'liaiii^^cd, tlidiiuli iiiiiiiv a lord,
LiU»' a wt'L'd wliosc sIkkU; is |ioi.soii,
Overcrows this rc^non's foisoii.
Sheaves ot wlioiii are ripi; to eonie
To de.striu'tioirs liarvestdioinc :
Men must reap tin; tilings tliev sow,
Force from foicc mii^t evei' ilow,
Or worse; hut "t is a liitter wot;
That love or reason cannot chaiitre
The despot's rage, the slave's revenge.
.';{()
li
^
L'.-?;
Padua, thou withia uliose walls
Those ninte guests at festivals.
Son and Mother, Death and Sin,
Played at dice for Kzzelii),
Till Death cried, " I win. 1 win!" 210
And Sin cursed to lose the watier.
Put Death ])roniised, to assuage her,
That he would petition for
Her to he ma(h' Vice-Km|)eror,
^^ hen the destined years were o'er, '_Mr>
Over all hetween the Po
And the eastern Al])ine snow,
l^uler the mighty Austrian.
Sin smiled so as Sin oidv can.
And, since th;it tim<'. ay, long before, 25(J
Both have ruled from sliore to shore,
That incestuous pair, who follow
Tyrants as tlie sun tlit; swallow,
As Kepentance follows Crime,
And ;)s c]i;ni"-e-> follow Time, '2r>"
FF
(^!
I
28 WniTTEN AMONG THE EUdANEAX HILLS
In tliino lialls the laiiiji of kariiii
Lik
'g»
;i(tu;', ni)\v no nioitj is buininir;
e a meteor
\vl
lose \vi
1(1
iiy
Is lost over the f;r:ive of day
It lijleanis betrayed and to betray
2G0
()
nee remotest nations came
To adore that sacred llaine,
A\ hen it lit not many a hearth
On tills eold and jj^looiny earth ;
Now new lires from anti(|iie liiiht 2tJ5
Si)riiii;- be.ieath the wide world's iui<jht ;
But their spark lies dead in thee,
Trampled out by tyranny.
As the Norway woodman quells,
In the dei)th of i)iiiy dells, 270
One light llanie among the brakes,
AVhile the boundless forest shakes,
And its mighty trunks are torn
I\v tile file thus lowlv born —
The sp'iik iteiieath his feet is dead, 275
He starts to see the Haines it fed
Howling through the darkened sky
A\ ith myriad tongues vietoriouslv.
And sinks down in fear : so thou,
O tyranny ! beholdest now 280
Light around thee, and thou liearcst
The loud Hames ascend, and fearest :
Cirovel on the earth : ay. hide
In the dust thy jiurple jiride I
Noon descends around me now :
'T is the noon of autumirs glow,
A\ hen a soft and ])ur])le mist
Lilce n v.-nwu'ona .'imct li\-c(-
285
WRITTEN AMOX(; THE EUdANEAN HILLS 29
It
Or an air-dissolvtnl star
Miiiuliii": li<rlit and fraiiranro, far
From the curved horizon's bound,
To th(
)01I1
t of
leavcn s proiounc
d.
Fills tlie ovrrilou iiii:; sky :
And tlie plains tiiat siii'iit lie
I'^nderneath. Tlui leaves unsodden
Whcire the infant frost has trodden
With his morning-winged feet,
Whose bright print is gleaming yet ;
And the red and goldeji vines,
Piercing with their trellised lines
The rough, dark-skirted wilderness ;
The dun and bladed grass no less,
Pointing from this hoary tower
In the winiUess air ; the flower
Gliinmering at my fi-et ; the line
Of the olive-sandalled Apennine
In the south dimly islanded ;
And the Alps, whose snows are spread
High between the clouds and sun ;
And of living things each one ;
And my sj)irit, which so long
Darkened this swift stream cf song,
Interpenetrated lie
By the glory of the sky :
Be it love, light, harmony,
Odour, or the soul of all
Wiiich from lieaveTi like dew doth fall,
Or the mind whie'i feeds tiiis verse
liu'T the 1
eoplmg
one universe.
Noon descends, and after noon
Autumns evening meets me soon.
200
205
300
305
310
316
320
li I
H
i !
• f
.1
i " \
.lit
m
1^
:-'fj
80 WRITTEN AMONC THK EH; AN E AX HILLS
Lradiiii; tlio infantine moon,
And tliat one star, wliieli to liur
Ahno.-t sfcnis to minister
Halt tlie t-rinison li^ht slie bi'in^-s
From tlie sunset's ladiant springs:
And the soft dreams of the morn
(Wliieh like winded winds had borne,
To tiiat silent isle, whieh lies
Mid lememhered ationies.
The frail baik of this lone hi'inii),
Pass, to other sufferers fleeini^',
And its ancient ])ilot. Pain,
Sits beside the lielm ajiain.
330
Other flowerinii: isles must be 335
In the sea of life and aj;()ny :
Other spirits Hoat and flee
O'er that «;nlf : even now, perhaps,
On some roek the wild wave wraps.
With folded wings the}- waiting .sit 340
I'or my bark, to pilot it
To some calm and bloonnng eove.
Where for me, and those I love,
May a windless bower be Imilt,
Far from })assion, pain, and guilt, 345
In a dell 'mid lawny hills.
Which the wild sea-nmrnnir fills,
And soft sunshine, and the sound
()f old forests echoing round,
And the light and smell divine 350
Of all flowers tliat bi'eathe and sliine.
^Ve may live so hajipv there
That the spirits of the air,
Env
■J -"o
'•V
» eii eiicii.'c
STANZAS
31
. () our
lioal
i"S P
iriulise
The polluting multitude
SUI)(
luL'd
in.
But their rage would be
By that clime divine and cal
And the winds whose wiuL^s rain balm
On the uplifted soul, and leaves
Under wlueh the bright s(!a heaves ;
While each brt;athless interval
In their whisperings music
lal
Th
lusp
ured sou
1 sujipl
les
"With its own deep melodies,
lAnd the love which heals all strife,
Circling, like the breath of life,
All things in that sweet abode
"With its own mild brotherhood.
They, not it, would change : and soon
Every sprite beneath the moon
"Would repent its envy vain,
And the earth grow young again.
October, ISIS.
300
.■iOf)
370
ii
i:|1
STANZAS
WRITTEN IN DEJECTION. NEAR NAPLES
The sun is warm, the sky is clear.
The waves are dancing fast and bright,
Blue isles and snowy mountains wear
Tiie purple noon's transparent might;
The breath of the moist earth is light,
Around its unexpanded buds :
Tjike many a voice of one delight.
The winds, the birds, the ocean-floods,
m. ^^.. <_ • •. If • fj. i:i.„ c„i:(..,.i,^'^
Xiie V..lts n vOiCU itSi.il. V.I bUit iiivt, .^-uulisuc 3,
32
STAXZAS
I SCO tlio Dooj)'.s untrainplod floor k,
Witli f^reon and p.nple seaweeds ■ trown ;
I see tlie waves upon tlie sliore,
Lilce H-l,t .lissoh-e.l in star-sliowers, thrown ;
1 sit upon the sands alone,
The lio-litninir „f the noontide ooean 15
Is flasliinu- r,,„n(l nie, and a tone
Arises from its measured motion,
How sweet! did any heart now share in iny emotion.
Ahis! I have nor hope nor health,
Nor peace within nor calm around, 20
Nor that content surpassing wealth
The saj^e in meditation found,
And walked with inward glory crowned,—
Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure.
Others I see wlionj thei^ii surround ; 05
Smiling they live, and call life pleasure ;
To me that cup has I.een dealt in another measure.
Yet now despair itself is mild,
Even as the winds and waters are ;
I could lie down like a tired child, ' 30
And weej) away the life of care
Which I have borne, and yet must bear,
Tdl death like sleej) might steal on me,
And I might feel in the warm air
My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea
Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.
Some miglit lament that I were cold.
As I when this sweet day is oone.
Which niy lost heart, too soon grown old,
Insulla with this untimely moan ; 40
35
:
LiyES TO AX IXDLiy AIR 33
They iiiiglit lament —for I am one
Who m men love not — and yet regret,
Unlike this day, which, when the sun
Shall on its stainless glory set, 44
Will linger, though enjoyed, like joy in memory yet.
DecBiuber, IS IS.
LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR
I ARISE from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright.
I arise from dreams of thee, 5
And a spirit in my feet
lias led me — who knows how? —
To thy chamber-window, sweet!
The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream ; 10
The ehampak odours fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream ;
The niglitineah^'s complaint,
It dies ui)on her heart,
As I mu<t die on tliine 16
O beloved as thou art !
lift me from the grass !
1 die, I faint, I fail !
TiCt thv love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale. 20
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
illy Ucarc ueiiiib louu uiiLi itioii,
I
34 SOXG—TO THE MK.X oF KSf.LAXI)
i) '. i)ress it close to tliiiie af 'n,
Where it will Iji-eak at last.
1S19.
LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY
Tin: fouiitaiDs iiiiiii;!f with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean ;
The winds of heuvi'ii mix for ever
With a sweet emotion :
Nothing in the worhl is sinnle ;
All things by a law divine
In one another's heiiM-- niin"le :
Why not 1 with thine?
See the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would l)e forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight elasi)s the earth.
And the moonbeams kiss the seu:
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me ?
ism.
10
15
SONG -TO THI-: MEN OF ENGLAND
j\Ikn of England, wherefore plough
For the lords who lay ye low ?
Wherefore wt-ave witli toil and eare
The rich roljcs your tyiants wear?
Wherefore feed, and clothe, and save,
Lrout the cradle to the grave,
1
SONG — TO THE MEN OF EXCLAND
35
Those Tini^ratct'iil diorn's who would
Drain your sweat — nay, diink your hl()od ?
Wherefore. lices of Kni^land, forire
Alany a weapon, chain, and scoui"L;t>, 10
That these? stintless drones may spoil
The forced produce of your toil?
Have ye leisure, comfort, calm,
Shelter, food, love's gentle Iiahn?
Or what is it ye liny so dear 15
With your pain and with your fear?
The seed ye sow, another reaps ;
The wealth ye find, another keeps;
The rohes ye weave, another wears;
The arms ye forge, another bears. 20
Sow seed, — but le*^ no tyrant reap ;
Find wealth, — let no impostor hea]) ;
Weave robes, — let not the idle wear ;
Forge arms, — in your defence to bear.
Shrink to your cellars, holes, and cells; 25
In halls ye deck, another dwells.
AVhy shake the chains ye wrought? Ye see
The steel ye temj)ered glance on ye.
With plough and sjnide. and hoe and loom.
Trace your grave, and linild your tond), 30
And weave your winding-sheet, till fair
England be your sepulchre !
1819.
i
*:1
86
ODK TO THE WEST WIND
ENGLAND IN IS 19
As old. mad, hliiid. (Icspiscd, jind dviiiij 1
ilU'r^ -
I'lllCCS,
Tl
l()ll"ll 1)1
till' ditji;s of their dull race, who flow
iMif scorn. — inud fi
ihiif scorn. — mud tiom a niuddv sDrin"-:
liiiiers who noitlH.-r sfc, nor fed, nor know,
But li'i'ch-likc to tlu'ir faintini,^ country clini;-, 5
Till tlu-y drop, blind in hlood, without a blow;
A ])e()|)lc r^-irved and stahlu'd iu the nntilkd field;
An army, which liheitieide and pi-ey
Make as a two-edged sword to all who wiidd ;
(Jolden and sanj^uine laws which tempt and slay;
Keli^ion Christless, (Jodless, — a hook sealed ; 11
A Senate, — time's woi'st statute nnrepealed,—
Are graves, from which a glorious Phantom may
Jjiirst, to illumine our tempestuous day.
IS HI.
ODE TO THE WEST WIND
O wuj) West AVind, thou breath of Autumn's bein"-,
Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an euchanter fleeing,
'fellow, and black, and ])ale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes : O thou, 5
^^'ho chari )test to their dark wintry bed
The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Kach like a corpse within its grave, until
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow
ODE TO THE WEST WIND 37
IlfT clarion o'er the dioainiiit: cartli, and fill 10
( hi'ivin^- swi'ct buds lilit- llocdvs to fi'cd in air)
^\'itll living lines and odums jijaiu and hill:
Wild Spirit, which art moving- I'Ver} whtro ;
Destroyer and preserver; hear, hear!
II
Thou on whose stream, "mid the steep sky's oonuno-
tion, 15
Loose elonds like earth's decayint,'- leaves ar. shed,
Shook from the tanjiled bou<:hs of heaven and
ocean,
Angels of ra'n and liyhtnini;- : there are spread
On the blue surface of thine airy surge.
Like the bright hair uplifted from the head 20
Of some fierce Mienad, even from the dim
verge
Of the horizon to the zenith's height
The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge
Of the dving vear, to which this closing night
Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre.
Vaulted with all thy congregated might
Of vapours, from whose solid atmosjdiere
Black rain, and fire, and hail, will burst ; O hear I
III
Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
'■fill "^ f" 1 • , » 11
i i'lxj, oiiu" i^ieuiLorraiH'aii, Vviuri' iic iay,
Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams.
•jfi
%.;
i
IS <
H\
■■ f
i
ll 1;
88
OliK TO THE \\ i:.<T \\ isr.
IVsido a iniinice iMc in I5ai;c's li.iv,
A\u\ saw ill >Iff|» (lid palact's an I t
(>iiivfi ill'' witlilii till,' u
oucrs
ivc s iiitt'ii>fr dav,
All civcr-iowii witli azure iiids-;. and flowers
^M ^weet the ,>eii>e faints piet iiiini^' them! Thou
I nr wlioNC path the Atlantic's level powers
Cleave tlieinsolves into ehasnis, while far hi low
Die sea-ldoonis and the oo/y woods whieJi wear
Tlie saph'.ss fulia<;e of the ocean, know
■10
Thy voice, and suddenly <;iow <,nay with fear,
And treud>Ie and despoil tlienistdves : O hear!
IV
If I wore a (h'ad leaf tlion ndi^htest hoar
If I wore a swift elond to Hy with thee ;
iV W
iive to pant honeath thy junver, and share 4.'
Tlie impulse of thy stron^th, only loss f
Than thou, () uncontrollable! if
I were as in my boyhood, and could bt
rce
oven
1 he comrade of thy wandei ini;.s over heaven,
As thon, when to outstrij) thy skyey sjieed
Scarce seemotl a vision; J would ne'er have st
60
riven
As thus with tl
()! lift I
loe in prayer in my sore need.
ne as a wave, a
a cloud
1 fall upon the lliurns of life ! 1 bleed !
A heavv wei"!i1- of Ik^.hi; l.nc /.l,o;..o-l "--i i - i
One too like thee : tameless, and swift, and proud.
ODK r<) TUK WKST WISH
39
Make iiif tliy lyn-, fvcii :is tlir forest is:
Wliiit if ii'.y lt'-<vcs an' fallin;; Hkf its own!
The tiiMiiih of tiiy lui^lity liariuuuii's
Will take from hotli a i\vr\'> aiitiiiiiiial tone, ''0
Swr.t tliou-li in sadness. Vw tlioii, spirit fiorcc,
Mv spirit! IW thou nu', impetuous one!
Drive my dead tliouglits over the universe
Like witliered leaves to cpiieken a new birtli ;
And, by the iueantai-on of this verse.
Scatter, as from an unextini^uished hearth
Ashes and s))arks. my words anion^- mankind!
lie through my lips to unawakt'ned earth
he trumpet of a prophecy ! O Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
1819.
65
70
i«l
I'lJOMKIIIKls IM'.or M)
A i.\ Ki( \i, mc \M.\. i\ Koiit \, r^
Aiulism- li.M>, Aiii|)lii;irao,.siili t.rr:im iilulitc?
I'Ur.FACK
T.IK C.vrvk ti-.-.ni,. writ.Ts, in .s,.l,.,ti,M^r ,stl,..ir sul-joct any
'""•"""-'' ""■"•"^'"""^'llnstnnor,MMlH.I„;;v,..,„,,lov..,lintl,.Mr
tr.'at.M.nt u| ,t a .-orta.n ur I ut. ■;..•> di.cT.t ,.,.,. Tl„.v hV i,., .nrans
c..m..n,.,ltlK.,MM.lv..sl M,lt,.a.llu.r,.to,|„...n,n„;„„h,t,r,,n.tH-
t...n, ...• t.. nui.at.. in ..orv, as ,n titl., tiuir nval> an.] ,„...lo-
crssors. Su.h a svst..n, w.,ul,l have : „,„..| ,., a n.si.natlon
..f t ,„s,. daMMs to i.r,.|',..vn<.,. ov.t tln.ir .•on,,,..tilo.s wind, in-
oitr. tin. .•o,n,M,M,i„n. Tl,,. A^^.nn.,nn„nian .storv was ..xliil.iu.d
.n. tl.L- Atln.nnin theatre with as many va.iati..n.s"as .l.annis
1 l.ave ,..esnrn...l t.. i.,n|,l„y a sinnlar license. The /'nmutheu.
Lnbound „f .Ksehylus sn,,,.„s...I the . , ....neiliation of J„,,iter
with Ins netin. as the pru-e of the .liselosure of the .ian-aT
tl,reatene.I to his e.npire hy tin- eons.un.nation of his uu^vvh^.^
with Ihet.s. Thetis, ac.eor.linj,r to this view of the suhjeet was
{,m-e.. n. .narria.o to I'dens, and I'nMM.thens, hv tl,e ,M.,nn'ssion
(.t .Inpiter, .lel.vere.l from his eaptivitv hv ilerenh.s 1I.,<I I
fraMH.,1 „,y story on this „,od,I, I shonhl have ,l.,ne no n.ore
than have attenq.te.i to restore the h,st drama of .Ksdnlns • -ni
an.h.t.on whieh, if n,v prehTenee to this mo.i.. „t trea'tin-r'the
snhjeet had ineited n.e to eherish, the reeolleetion of the^i-^h
comparison s,ni, an attempt wouhl ehallenjje mi.dit well ahat"e
l.nf, m trnti,, 1 was averse fron. a catastrophe so feehle as that
of reeone,l,n,,r ,h.. Chan.pion with the Oppressor of n.ankind.
Ihe mora , merest of the fal.le, whieh i. so powerfullv snstained
by the snner,M;;s and enduK.nreof l'ron,e,h..„s, w„„ld he annihi-
lated it wo eoiild coiu'eivo of I
and
imi as nnsayiiio- his hii;h laii-niafe
tI!' !'!k '■'" '"■^"'■' '"' SM<.eessf,d an.l perlidions a.lversai^'
. .iP on.v ;,=..;.;.,. !......^ r,-.,Mni,iiM-in aiiv .ie^r..e I'romethens,
is batai, : and Prometheus is, in my j.-d.^vment, a more noetieal
r ROM KTIl FA'S IS IK USD
41
M
fliar;iPtor tliaii S.it.in, liccausi', m .'nldil ion ;o cimii;!'^'', and iiia-
ji'sl V, ami lii'iii ami |i:itiriit i>|i|ii>sitiiiii t>) i>tniii|i<iii'iit Idiio, lit* is
siisL't'pi ilili! lit" lii'iiij^' drM'iiluil a-i fxciiiiit liiiiii till- taints of
amlpil HIM. i'ii\ V, rr\ i'ii'_;.', itml adi-^iii' lui' [iii'^cin.il aL;'_;iandi/,t'-
niriil, whifli, in llir II. lu nl' I'^ihI'Iki' /."^/, iillrllrif uitil t ho
intcrt.'ht. 'I'lio I'iiaracicr (if Sitan I'ljj^tndri s in tin' mind a ]" r-
liii'iiins casnistry wiiiili Irails ns tu \v('ii;h liis I'.iults willi jjis
wiDH'^s, and lotxcn-.!' tin' lornn-r hrcausi' tiir 1 iltrr fxi'i-rd all
iiii'aMirc. In tlic minds (il llnist! \\\\n cun'^iiliT that nni^juitici'lit
lictiiin uitil a ri'liL;iiiiis fccdin;^, it fnL;rndfi s sonirtiiiu;;' \vl>^^(•.
I'liit i'l'Dnirthfiis is, as it were, tiic 1} ["• 'd' tin' lii;;lii '^t |icitri-
tion of iniii-al and inli Irctnal nat nrt", ini|ndli d by tiif [Mirist
and tliu tiin'st motive-. lo tin' Im --t and iioldi >l ends.
riiis |iii('m was cliiidly wiittiMi npon tin' moiintainons rniiis of
till' Matlis of ('ai:icai!;i, ainon'T tin- tiow t iv •rladi'-, and tliiclict-S
of odoriferous Idossomin;; trees, wlmii art' cMendt'd in cver-
windinj; lalnrintlis njion it-, immense ]datforms and di//y artdn's
.suspended in the air. 'riie lirieht Idne >ky of Konie, and tin'
elfeit of tin; vi;^orons awiilcenilij; of sjilini,- in tl at divincst (di-
luate, and tiie nuw life with wiiieii it (irenehes tlu- si)irits evuii to
iiitoxieation, were the ins])iration of this drama.
Tlie iina^'eiy wlii(di I have ciindDyi'd will hf found, in many
instances, to have lieen drawn from the operations id" the luimaii
iniiul, or from those external actions by whicii they are ex-
pressed. Tiiis is unusual in modern poetry, altho\ii;h Dante and
Sliakespeare are full of instances of the same kind : Dante in-
deed more than any other poet, and v. It h j^reater success. I^ut
the (ireek ])oets, .'is writers to whom no resource of awakenin;^
till' symi>athy of tlicir conteiniiorai'ies was unknown, were in tiie
haliitual use of tliis power ; and it is the study of their works
(since a iiij;'lier merit would prolialdy lie denied mejtowhiidi
I am willing; that my readers shouhl impute this sineuhirity.
One word is due in caiulonr to tiie deforce in whieli the study
of contenqxirarv writinLjs mav have tin^^ed my com]iosition ; to-
such lias hcen a topic of eensnre with rerjard to iioems far moie
poi)ular, and indeed more deservedly popular, than mine. It is
impossihie that any one who iidiahits the sanu' age with ^ucli
writers as those who stand in the foremost ranks of our own,
can conscientiously assure liims(df that his lans^nafre and tone of
thoii-'-ht mav not have been luoditied hy the study of the prodiie-
Hi;
m :
-rill
tions o
f those e\traordinarv intellects. It is true, that, not the
42
rnoMETHEVs I '.V no i \\ n
spirit ..f their c^ciiius, Inii thr forms in wliicli it lias niaiiifc'stcd
itsi'll, arc (iiic less to tin- prniliaritics of tlit-ir own iiiiiids tiiari
to the |H iiiliarily of tliu moral and intellcctnal ('(.niiition of the
inin.ls aiiHiiii;- uliicli tlu-v iiavc liom |iroilni-.cl. 'I'hn.s a luunht-r
of wrucis 11US.SC.-..S tilt; form, whilst they want the spirit of those
whom, it is all<'M;,'(], thfv imitate ; lua'ansc the fornier is the
cndoum.iit of tin; age in which they live, and the latter must
lie tilt,' uneonitnnnieated li^htninj; of their own mind.
1 iie p'l'idiar style of intense and comprehensive inia;,'-ory
which distinj^Mii.^hes the modi'rn literature of Kni,dand, lias not
been, as a ;;encral jiower, the prodnct of the imitation of anv
l>ai-ticidar writer. The mass of capabilities remains at every
]ien,Mi m,a!>-rially the same : tlie eirenmstanccs which awaken it
to action perpetually chanj,'e. If Knj,dand were divided into forty
republics, eacii eipial in iK.pul.ation and extent to Athens, there
is no reason tosiiiipose but that, under institutions not more per-
fect than those of Athens, each would produce philo.sophers and
poets e(jual to those who (if we e.\ee|it Shakespeare) have never
been surpass -d. We owe the great writers of the golilen age of
our literatT.^r to that fervid aw.akening of the public mind which
shook to dust the oldest and . .ost oppressive form of tie; Chris-
tian rtdigion. We owe Mdtou to the progress and development
of the same spirit: the .-.acred Milton was, let it ever be remem-
bered, a republican, and a liold iiupiirer into iiioral:^ and reIi<'ion.
The great writers of our own age are, we liavi' reason to sup-
pose, the companions and forerunners of some unimagined
change in our social condition, or the opini(Uis which cement it.
, The (dond of mind is discharging its collected lightning, and the
C(piiiiliriniu between institutions and opinions is now restoring,
or is about to be restored.
As to imitation, poetry is a mimetic art. It creates, but it
creates by cumbinatioM and reprcs;'iitation. Poetical abstractions
are beautiful and new, imt licc.iuse the port loiiMif which they are
composed had no previous e.\i.-,tence in the mind of man or in
nature, but because the whole ]iroduci d by their combination
has some intelligible and beautiful analogy with those sources of
emotion and thought, and with the contemnorarv condition of
them: one gre.it ])opt is n masterpiec' of nature which another
not only oughf to stiiil;. but must study. He might as wisely
and as easily determine that his mind should no loneer be the
mirror of all that is lovely in the visible imiver.se, as exclude from
ruoyiETiiEvs uMiouyn
43
liis ooiitoiiiiiliitioM the bcautihil wliicli exists in the writiiipjs of
;, great cdiitfiiipoiiirv. TIip jirctPiue of doiiij; it would lu' a
piesumiiliuii in any Init the j;ieatt'st ; the ellVct. cviMi in liini,
\\<iul(l he strained, unnatiiial, and iiudVfCtnal. A jhii'I is the
cpiiiliini'd jiroduL't of such internal powers as niodily tlie nature
of others ; and of such external intlnenees as exeite and sustain
these jiowers: he is not one, l)nt both. Every man's mind is, in
this r 'sjiect, modiiied l)y all the objects of nature and art; by
everv word and everv s.ii;i;estion which he ever admitti d to act
\ij)on his consciousness; it is the mirror upon which all forms are
relleeted, and in which they comiiose one form. I'oets, not other-
wise than jiliilosophcrs, painters, sculptors, and musicians, arc, in
one sense the creators, and, in another, the creations, of their
ii"-e. From this subjection the loftiest do not esea]ic. There
is a similarity between Flomer and llesiod, between .Kschylns
and Euriiiitles, between Virgil and Horace, between Dante ami
IVlrarch, between Shakespea' e and Fletcher, between Drulcn
and Pope; each has a generic resendilance under which their
specific distinctions are arranged. If this similarity be the result
of indtatioii, 1 am willing to confess that 1 have imitated.
Let this opportunity be conceded tome of acknowledging that
I have, what a Scotch philosoiiher characteristically terms, " a
passion for reforming the world "' : what passion incited him to
write and publish bis book, he omits to explain. For my jiart,
I had rather be damned uitii Plato and Lord Paeon than go to
heaven with Paley and Maltlius. lint it is a nustake to su]iiiiise
that I dedicate my poetical compositions solely to the direct
enforcement of reform, or that I consider them in any degree
as containing a reasoned sy.stem on the theory of human life.
Didaetic poetry is my abhorrence ; nothin:; can be equally well
expressed in jirose that is not tedious and supererogatory in verse.
My ))nri)ose has hitherto been siniidy to familiarize the higlily
relined imagination of the more select (dasses of poetical readeis
with beautiful idealisms of moral excellence; aware that nnii!
the mind can love, and admire, and trust, and hope, and emlure,
reasoned jniuciples of moral conduct are seeds cast upon the
lli"-liwav t)f life, whicli the unconscious passenger tr;iii.p!es into
dust, altliough they W(udd bear the harvest of his happiness.
Should I live to a<'ci'iiiidisb what I jmrpose. that is. produce a't
--•.■■4f::;::'.;! ii>:;l !'.!s*i>!'V of whilt a'.o.iea.r to loe to be thi' Cfenniiie I
elements of human society, let not the advocates t)f injustice and J
)
nr
m
m
it
^iH
"'■\t
it
k
\i\
44
PROMETHEUS UXIiO UND
r suporsfitio,, (latfor tl,on,s,.lvos that r,sI,„MM (ak. Jvsohyli.s rafl.or
\tliaii I'lato MS my inixli'l.
Tlu. luvin,^ spokrn „f ,„v.,.lf witl. ....allVH..! fn-o,!..,,, will
■"■;■'' l"'l-M-l'W with tlH.,.aM,|i.l ; an.l la ,h.. un..an.ii,i ...,„.
snl.Tthat th..yinj„ren„. l...,s than their own hearts an.l nun.ls
.y nnsn.,.,...s,.ntation. Whatever talents a person n,av possess
to :t.",.se ami insfrnet others, he they ever so ineonsi.leVal.le. he
isyet honn.l to exert then, : if his atten.pt he ineilVetual. let the
JHuuslnnent o an nnaeeo.nplishe.l pnrpose have l,ee„ snftieient •
I.'t nonetronhle then.selves to heap the dust of ohlivion npon his
e orts ; tlje p,le they raise will hetray his ^jrave, which .night
otherwise liave heen unknown.
I '
DK.' \IATIS I'KRSOX.E
PlJOMKTTIK.rs
IH.Mocoiico.v
.Jll'ITKU
The KaUTH
OCKAV
A !'()[. LO
Mkkctijy
IIkiicl'lks
Asia, ^
Pantiika. - Oreanulr:^
Ion,.:, \
The PlIAXTASM OK JcriTKR
The Si'iitiT OK THK Kautii
The Si'iHiT OK Tin: Moo.v
SiTKITS OK THK IIoCKS
Si-iuiTs. EciioKs. Fauns
r UKIKS
ACT I
ScprvK. A Rcunne of In, Rocks in the Indian Caumsus.
IKOMKTHKUS Js d!scorn-ed hnnnd fa tJw PrenpJre
1 AN-TMKA and loN-K are smWd at hh fWf. Time Xiqh
Dnrin,j the Scene. Monun,j shari,, hreaks.
ifjht.
PltOMKTTIKUS
Aron.-u-oh of Gods an.l I):vmon.s. and all Spirits
r.nt On. who tlu-on.i; those bright an.l r.,llin.^ worlds
U hu'h thou and I alone (.f living thin^rs
P.ohold with sl.'Pploss eyes ! r.^-ar.1 this Earth
Mad<>^ multitn.lln.)ns with thy slaves, whom thou 5
Ko.|nit.>st for knee-worship. piav.T. an.l nrniso,
Ami toil, an.l heei.tonibs of broken hearts,
riiOMETIIEUS UMiOUNI)
"Witli fear ami self-contempt and harren hope:
AVliilst
tliv f(
hate.
liilst me, wlio am tiiy toe, eyeless in ii;
lliist tliou made ieij:;n and tiiumj)li. to thy scorn,
()"i'i' mine own misery ami thy vain I'evenge.
Three thonsand years of slee])-nnsheltered honrs,
jiiid moments aye divided hy keen ])ang;s
Till they seemed years, torture and solitude,
Scoi-n and des])air, — these are mine em]>ire,
^lorc glorious far than that wliieh thou snrveyest
p^'om thine nnenvied thione, O mighty God!
Almighty, had I deigned to share the shame
Of thine ill tyranny, and hung not lure
Nailed to this wall of eagle-haffling mountain,
]Mack, wintiy, dead, unmeasured : without hei'h,
Insect, or l)east. or shape or sound of life.
Ah me I alas, pain, pain ever, for ever!
No change, no pause, no ho]ie ! Yet I endure.
I ask the Earth, have not the mountains felt?
I ask yon Heaven, the all-hehohling Sun.
lias it not seen? The Sea, in storm or calm.
Heaven's ever-changing Shadow, spread helow,
Have its deaf waves not heard my agony?
Ah me! alas, pain, pain ever, for ever!
45
10
15
20
25
30
Tlie crawling glaciers ]m<mto me with the spcai's
'^)f theii- moon-freezing crystals : the bright chains
K:it with their hurning cold into my hones.
Heaven's winged hound. ])olluting froui thy lips
His l)e:d< in ])oison not his own, tenrs uj) 35
My heiirt : and shapeless sights come wandering by.
The ghastly peo))le of the realm of dream.
Mocking me: and the Eartlujuake-tiends are charged
To wreucli the rivets from my quivering wounds
i'l.
46
/• /; O.I/ /; 77//; / '.s r '.v />• o r -.v />
When tlie rocks split and close again behind ;
While from their loi;d abysses howling thron'
The genii of tlie storm, urging the rni:e
Of whirlwind, and afHiet
40
nu' with keen hail.
And yet to nn; welcome is day and nigiit,
^Vhether (me breaks the hoar frost of tli<. morn, 45
Or, starry, dim, and slow, the other elind)s
The leaden-coloured east ; for then they lead
The wingless, ei'awling hours, one among whom
As some dark Priest hales the reluctant victim —
Shall drag thee, cruel King, to hiss the blood r,0
From these pale feet, which then might trample thee
If they disdained not such a prostrate slave.
Disdain ! Ah no! I ])ity thee. What ruin
Will i-.int thee undefended through the wide Heaven!
Ho- 1 thy soul, cloven to its depth with terror, 55
(Jape like a hell within I I speak in o-iief,
Not exultation, for I hate no more,
As then ere misery m;ide me wise. The curse
Once bieathed on thee I would recall. Ye Mountains,
Whose many-voiced Echoes, through the mist GO
Of cataracts, flung the thunder of that spell!
Ye icy Springs, stagnant with wrinkling frost,
Which vibrated to hear me, and then crei)t
Shuddering through India! Thou serenest Air, ;t
Tiirough which the Sun walks burning without l)eams '
And the swift Whirlwinds, who ju poised wings
Hung mute and moveless o'er yon hushed aby^s,
As thuiuler, louder than your own. m;ule rock
The orbed worhl ! If then my words had power,
Though I am changed so tliat .lught evil wish 70
Is dead within ; although no memory be
Of what is hate, let them not lose it now!
>v iiixi was tiiat curse .- tor ye ali heard
me speak.
rnoMETiiF.rs uxnouND 47
FlKST VoiCK : froir) the Mountanis
Thrice three hundred thousand years
O'er the E;irth(|u:ike's couch we stood; 75
Oft, as men convulsed with fears,
We trend )led in our nudtitude.
Sf.cono York : j'row t/ic Sjn'iiujs
Thunderbolts had jjarehed our water,
We had been stained with bitter blood,
And had run mute, "mid shrieks of slaughter, 80
Through a city and a solitude.
TiiiKD VoiCK : fro?)! the Air
I had ch)thed, since Earth uprose,
lis wastes in colours not their own ;
And oft had my serene repose
Been cloven by many a rending groan. 85
FouKTH Yoicvr. fro »i the Whirl whids
We had soared beneath these mountains
Unresting ages ; nor had thunder,
Nor yon volcano's flaming fountains,
Nor any power above or under
Ever made us mute with wonder. 90
First Voice
But never bowed our snowy crest
As at the voice of thine unrest.
Skcoxp Voick
Never such a sound before
To the Indian waves we bore.
A pilot asleep on the howling sea 95
Leaped up from the deck in agony,
hi
48 riWMKTllEUS UNliOUNl)
And lu'iiid, and cried, " Ah, woo is me ! "
And died as mad as tiie wild waves be.
Tnii;i» \'(HiH
By such dread words from F-aitli to Heaven
^ly still realm was never riven :
AVhen its wound was closed, there stood
Darkness o'er the day like blood.
Fouinii VoicK
And we shrank back : for dreams of ruin
To frozen caves our flight ])ursuin<^
Made us kcej) silence — thus — and thus —
Though silence is a hell to us.
100
105
TiiK Kaiitii
The tongueless Caverns of the craggy hills
Cried, '' Misery! " then; the hollow Heaven replied,
" Misery! " and the Ocean's purple waves.
Climbing the land, howled to the lashing winds, 110
And the pale nations heard it, '' Misery ! "
Promethei's
I hear a sound of voices: not the voice
Which 1 gave foitli. Mother, thy sons and thou
Scorn him without whose all-enduring will
J'cueath the fierce onniipotciice of ,[ove, 115
]5oth they and thou had vanished, like thin mist
enrolled on the morning wind. Know ye not me,
The Titan? he who made his ngonv
The hairier to your else all-con(Hiering Foe?
O rock-embosomed lawns, and snow-fed streams, 120
Now seen atliwai't fi-oi-e va])ours, deep below,
liirough whose oershadowing woods I wandered once
PROMETHEUS UNBOUND
49
With Asia, (IriiiUin"^ life from her lovod eyes;
Why scorns tlic s| Wit wliich informs ye, now
To commnne with me? me alone, who checUecl,
As one who elieeks a tifnd-drawn charioteer,
The falsehood and the foi'ce of him who r(Mi:;ns
Supreme, and with the t^roans of pininj;' slaves
Fills your dim glens and li((nid wildernesses.
Why answer yo not, still, Iirethren?
TuK Kauth
125
I.IO
They dare not.
Prometheus
AVho dares? for I would hear that curse again.
Ha I what an awful whisper lises up!
'T is scarce like sound : it tingles through the frame
As liii'litnin"- tingles, hovel•in^• ere it strike.
Speak. Sj)irit I From thine inorganic voice, 135
I oidy know that thou art moving near
And love. How cursed I him ?
The Earth
How canst thou hear
m
■i-if
11
Who knowest not the language of the dead ?
Pkomethfus
Thou art a living spirit: speak as they !
The Earth
I dare not speak like life, lest Heaven's fell King 140
Should hear, and link me to some wheel of pain
]More <-orturing than tlie one whereon I roll.
Subtle thou art and good : and though the Gods
Hear not this voi(!e, yet thou art niore than ViOu,
Being wise and kind: earnestly hearken now ! 145
50 pnoMETiiKi's rsr.orsi)
PliOMKrilFl'S
Ohsciirely tll^()^^•^I my hiaiii, liUu shadows dim,
Swci")) awful tli()iij;Iits. rapid and thick. I feel
Faint, liiic one mingled in entwiiiint;- love;
^ ft "t is not pleasure.
The Earth
No, thou canst not hear :
Thou art immortal, and this tonj^^ue is known 150
Only to those who die.
Pkometheus
And what art thou,
O niolanchojy Voice?
The Eaktii
I am the Earth,
Thy mother ; she within whose stony veins.
To the last fibre of the loftiest tree
"Whose thin leaves trembled in the frozen air, 155
.Foy rail, as blood within a living frame,
AVhen thou didst from her bosom, like a cloud
Of glory, arise, a spirit of keen joy I
And at thy voice her ])ining sons uplifted
Their prostrate brows from the polluting dust, 160
And our almighty Tyrant with fierce dread
Grew i)ale, until his thunder chained thee liere.
Then, see those million worlds which burn and roll
Around us: their inhabitants beheld
My sjdiered light wane in wide Heaven; the sea 105
Was lifted by strange ti-mju'st, an<l new fire
From eartJKpiake-rifted mountains of bright snow
Shook its portentous hair beneath Heaven's frown;
Lightning and Inundation vexed the plains ;
M
rnoMKTiiFA's UNiioryi) 51
nine thistles bloomed in citiL's ; foodlcss toads 170
Within vohiptuoiis chanilu'is pantiiiL; crawled :
\\1h'Ii l'hiL;iie had lalli'ii on man, and hoast, and worm,
And I''aminc : and hhick lilii;ht on hcrl» and troi; ;
And in till' corn, and vines, and mea<U)W'-grass,
1 reined ineradical)h- poisonous weeds 17.")
])i:iiniiiijf tlieir !4i'owth, for my wan breast was dry
AVith grief; and the thin air, my breath, was stained
^\'itli the contagion of a mother's hate
Iheathed on iier clnhrs (lestioyer; ay, I Iieard
Thv curse, tlie which, if thou remend)erest not, ISO
Yet my innumerable seas and streams,
Mountains, and eaves, and winds, and yon wide air,
And the inarticulate people of the dead,
1 'reserve, a treasured spell. We meditate
In secret joy and hope those dreadful words, 1S5
But dare not speak them.
Prometheus
Venerable mother !
All else who live and suffer take from thee
Some comfort ; flowers, and fruits, and happy sounds,
And love, though fleeting: these may not be mine.
But mine own words, I pray, deny me not! 190
TuK Eahth
Thoy shall be told. Ere Babylon was dust,
The Magus Zoroaster, my dead child,
Met his own image walUing in the garden.
'^rhat apparition, sole of men. he saw.
For know, there are two worlds of life and death : 19r>
One, that which thou behohlest ; but the other
"¥■ ^ .T.I
IS untieriieatii tne
"rave, vy'iicro tio iiiiiaiyiL
The shadows of all forms that think and live,
4^ it
.1
I
I :tll
f ■■'
rnoMF.TiiEr>i u.\iior\ i>
Till (Icatli iinitt' fl
Di'cimn atul tlic liiilit
cm and tlit-y part no in
ore
And all that faitl
iina.;inini;s of nn-n
200
1 ci-t'atc'S or love dcsir-
• rrililc. straiiL;!'. snlilinii', and licarif
line tlioii art. and dust Iiati
• 'Oils -liaix's.
a wi-illiini
snai ('
Mid \\liirl\vin,l-|),.,.|.l,.d nionntains ; all tin' (lod;
Aiv tlicrc, and all tlic powrrs of nainidrss w..rMs, L'Of)
\ a>t. scrptrt'd i.liantonis: heroes, nwn, and hcasts ;
And Dcnioi^or^-on, a trcincndons ^looin ;
And he, tho snpn.'nie Tyrant, on his throne
()f bnrnini; j^^old. Son, one of these shall utter
The oiirse whieli all reinoinher. Call at will 210
Thine own ^■host. or the nliost of Jupiter,
Hades or Typhon, or what mightier Gods
From all-prolifie Evil, since thy ruin
Have spruni;, and trampled on my jn-ostrate .sons.
Ask, and they must ve])\y : so tho reveno-e 215
Of the Supreme may sweep tlirounli vacant shades,
As niiny wind through the abandoned gate
Of a fallen })alace.
Pro.mkthku.s
Mother, let not aught
Of that which may he evil, pass again
My lips, or those of aught resend)ling me.
Phantasm of Jupiter, arise, appear !
220
Io\E
My wings are folded o'er mine ears :
My wings are cross(?d o'er mine oves :
1 et through their silver shade appears,
And through their lulling plumes arise,
A ftli'iim r> ♦.i>„„„™ „r 1^
May it be no ill to thee
225
riiOMK THE ( 'S l\ n () I S D
() tlioii of iiiiuiy Wdiiiids !
Near wlioiiu foi- our swoet sister's sake,
Ever thus we watch aiul wake.
'i
11
•j;{()
Pa NTH i: A
Tlu' sound Is of whhlwiiul uiuler^romid,
Kartlnjuake, and tire, and mountains cloven ;
Tlu' shajie is awful like the sound.
Clothed in dark j)uri)le, star-inwoven.
A s«'eptre of pale ^old, -35
To stay steps proud, o'er the slow eloud,
His veined hand doth hold,
('ruel he looks, but calm and strong,
Like one who does, not suffers wrong.
Phantasm ok Jii'Itku
AVhy have the secret powers of this strange world
Driven nie, a frail and empty phantom, hither 'J 11
On direst storms? What nnaecustomed sounds
Are hovering on my lips, unlike the voice
AVith which our pallid race hold ghastly talk
In darkness? And, proud sufferer, who art thou? 245
Prometheus
Tremendous Image I as thou art must he
He whom thou shadowest forth. I atn his foe,
The Titan. Speak the words which I would hear.
Although no thought inform thine empty voice \
The Earth
Listen ! and though your echoes must be unite, 250
Gray mountains, and old woods, and haunted springs,
Protilifttic caves, and isle-s"rronnding[ streams,
liejoice to hear what yet ye cannot si)eak !
64 ri;'>Mirrin:i-s ixuoiwi,
I'llANIASM
spirit seizes inc and sj.caks witliiii:
t.'ar- mm; as liiu tears a tiiiiiHl»T-rIoii,l
It
L'dU
F'amii. a
See how I,., lifts his iniglity looks ! the Ileuveu
Darkens above I
Id.Nt:
lie sjHak.sI (> siielter nie !
I'KOMKTMKI'S
I see the cnrse on -vstiires piou.l and cold,
And looks of firm delianee, and calm hate,
And such(K"si>air as mocks itself with smiles.
Written as on a seroll : yot speak ! () speak !
i Jl VTA8M
Fiend. I defy thee! wii dm, fixed mind,
^ All that thou canst inflict I l.id tlie^ <lo ;
Foul Tyrant l.oth of (iods and Hiimaid<ind,
One only lieinpjr shait thou nuc sid'.'ue. 235
Kaiii then thy pl.i-iies upon me here,
Ghastly disease, and frenzyinj^- fear:
And let alternate frost and fire
Eat into me, and l»e thine ire
Lin^htning, and cutting- hail, and h-ioned forms L'70
Of furies, driving by ui)on tlio wounding- storms!
Ay, do thy worst ! Thou art omnijiotent.
O'er all things hut thyself I gave thee power,
And mv own will. T.e thy swift iniM-hicfs sent '
To III , ,f n.MiJ.-;.,,] r .1.1,
Let tl
i\ m
uignant s])iiit inov,
I'lioMi.iiii.ts r.\ lior.M)
56
III (larlciit'ss ovtr tlio^c I Invt*:
( )ii iiic :iii(l iniiH- I iiii|irc(Mt(;
'llu; luiiio.^t tort lire oi tliy liatc ;
Ami lliiiN (IfVotf to ;>li'('|ilfss ai;<)iiy, 2S()
'I'liis uiHlfcliuiii^ head while thou must ici^ii on lii;;)!.
15ut thou, who art tin- (ioil and Lord: () thou,
^\ ho liik'st with thy soul this world of woe.
To whom all thin;;s ol I'.arth and I leaven do how
In feai' and worship : all ])rL'vailiiiy foe, — -S5
I eurse thee ! Let a sutTcrer's curse
(Mas]) thee, his torture! . liUe rt'morse ;
Till thine Inlinity shall he
A I'ohe of envenomed a^oiiy ;
And thine Omnijiotenee a crown of pain, 2!)0
'Jd clinj; like hurniuL;' i;old round thy dissolvinj^ ])rain !
Heap on thy soul, hy virtue of this Curse,
111 deeds ; then he thou damned, heholdinj,' good ;
Both Inlinite as is the nniverse.
And thou, and thy self-tortuilng sulitiule ! 20')
An awful linage of calm j)ower
Thouiih now thou sittest, let the hour
Come, when thou must ai)pear to be
That whicdi thou art internally.
And after many a false and fruitless crime 300
Scorn track thy lagging fall through boundless space
and time I
i'lioMKTIIKMS
Were these niy words, () Parent?
'r ir . ..,„..
Tliev were thine.
rt
t|l
5»J
PROMETIIEVS I'NBOUNT)
KOMIVrUKKS
It (loth rcpt'iit iiie : words are (luick and vain
(irit't for ;i while is l)liiid. and so was mine.
I wish no liviiii^ tliiny to snt'fer pain.
305
Tni: IvvHTH
Misery
01
1 misery to me.
That ffove at lenj^th should vancjuish thee!
^\'ail, howl aloud. Land and Sea,
TIh! Laitli's I'ent heart shall answer ye.
Howl, Spirits of tin; livinn' and the dead, 310
lour refuge, your defenee, lies fallen and vantiuisLcd !
FntsT Echo
Lies fallen and vaiKjuished I
Skconi) Kciio
Fall
en an- 1 va;i
qu
IS
hed
lOM
Fear not: t is but some p.'issini; spasm
The Titan is nnvan(|nished still.
see, where tlu'ou
th
;h tl
le azure c
hasra
But
Of yon f(>rked and snowy hill.
Trampling the slant winds on high
With g()l(h:n-san<hilhMl feet, that glow
Under ])luines of ]nirple dye,
Like rose-ensanguined ivory,
A Shape eomes now.
Stretching on high from his right hand
A serpent-eincturi'd wand.
315
320
Pa.\th?:a
If % 9
lo rt \j 11.: r» vv 1 M Ml - >v (t lit ir I 1 1
iii-jiiivi, i*it;ri*iiry,
O-^)
pnoMETiiKcs ryjif, nd 57
IitNK
And \vlio are those vitli hydra tresses
And iron wings tliaJ climb the wind,
Whom the frowning God rej)n>sses,
Like vai)()urs steaming np beliiud,
Clanging loud, au endless crowd — 330
Panthea
These ?\re Jove's tempest-walking hounds,
Whom he gluts with groans and hknul,
When charioted on snl])lun-ous cloud
He bursts Heaven's bounds.
lONE
Are they now led from the thin dead, 335
On new pangs to be fed?
Panthka
The Titan looks as ever, firm, not proud.
' i
,n
Hil
wi
First Fury
Ha ! I scent life !
Second Fuhv
Let me but look into his eyes !
TlIIKO FURV
Tiie hope of torturing him smells like a heap 3^0
Of corpses, to a death-bird after battle.
First Fl'UY
Darest thoii delay, O J lerald ! Take cheer, Hounds
Of Heii : vv lull ji ilie Soh oi i>iaia soou
|!
n
4
i
58
/ 'no MET UK I -S I '.V li O UNI)
Slioul.l i„;ike us foot! aiul si)ort — wlio can pkasc loner
'llie ( )m!iip()tunt ?
Mekcury
Bade to voiir towers of iron, ,'i i.l
And g-nasli, ln'sido the streams of fin; and wail,
Your foodless tot-tli ! (ieryon. arise! and (iorgon,
("liiiiKi'ra, and thou S|.inn\-, suhth'st of fiends,''
NVho niiiiistertd to Thebes Heaven's poisoned wine,
I nnatural love, and more unnatural hate: ;joi}
These shall perform your task.
FlK.^T FuiiV
Oh. mercy! mercy !
We die with our desire : drive us not back !
Mkik niv
Croueli then in silence !
Awful Sufferer!
To thee unwillinir, most unwillinulv
I eome, by the Groat Father's will" driven down, .S.-.r,
to execute a doom of new revenue.
Alas! I pity thee, and hate myself
That I can do no more: aye from thy slight
Keturning-, for a season, Heaven seems Hell,
So thy worn form i)iirsues me night and day. ;ir.O
Smilingv reproach. AVise art thou, firm ami o,,oil,
Hut vaiidy wouldst stand forth alone in strife
Against the Omnii)otent : as yon ilear lamps
That measure and divide the weary years
I'rom whicji there is no refuge, long liavc taught, .^n.-)
And long must te;ic]i. Kveu now thy Torturer I'lrms
With the strange might of
I Iwk lli^klt-^nci %rrli.^ ....1 1
* v< ijAvy 1
unnnagined jiains
Hell,
iiwUiiica lit
piiOMETiiEUs rxnoujsrn 69
And my commission is to lead tlieiu ln'ie.
Or what more sul)tlt', foul, or .savai;e fii'uds 37U
People the ahyss, and leave them to their task.
lie it not sol There is a seeret known
To thee, and to none elsi' of livin^i: thintrs,
\\ liii'h may transfer the sceptre of wide Heaven,
The fear of which pei'plcxes the Sujtreme : 375
('lotlie it in words, and hid it clasp his throne
hi intercession: bend thy soul in ])raver,
And, like a suppliant in some yor^cous fane,
Let the will kneel within thy hau;;hty lieart :
For benefits and meek .submission tame 3b0
The fiercest and the miiihtiest.
• in
pKOMKTHF.rS
Evil mind.s
Change good to their own nature. 1 gave uU
lie has: and in return he chains me here
Years, ages, night and day : whether tlu Sun
Split my ])arched skin, or in the moony night 385
The crvstal-winiicd snow din"' I'ound mv hair:
AN hilst xiy beloved lace is tramjiled down
]\v his Miought-cxecuting ministers.
Such is the Tyrant's ree<jnipense. 'T is just :
lie who is evil can receive no good; 390
And for a world bestowed, or a friend lost,
lie can feel hate, fear, shame; not gratitude:
He but reipiites me for his own misdeed.
Kindness to such is keen reproach, which breaks
With bitter stings the light sleep of Revenge. 395
Submission, thou dost know I cannot trv :
For wliat sul)mission but fiiat fatal woi'd,\
Tiie (h'ath-se;d of luaid^ind's caplivitv,
Like the Sicilian's hair-snspenik'd sword.
hi I
f
t.i.:
GO
rii OME THE US UN li O UNI)
Wliicli treinl)lo:^ o'er his crown, would lie accept, 400
Or could I yield? Wliicli yet 1 will not yield.
Let otliers Hatter Criuic, wliei'c it sits iliroiiecl
In brief ()uini])()tenee : secuiv are tliev
For .Justice, when triuuii)hant, will weep down
I*itv. not punishuient, on her own wrongs, 406
Too much avenued hv tiiose who err. 1 wait,
Kiidurin^ thus, the i'etril)utive hour
Wiiicli sinct' we spaki! is even nearer now.
Ihit hark, the hell-hounils clamour. Fear delay I
liehold I Heaven lowers under thy Father's frown. 410
MkIK L'llY
Oh, that we nii^ht he spared: I to inflict,
And tliou to suffer I Ouee more answer uie :
Thou knowest not the j)eriod of Jove's power?
Prometheus
I know hut this, that it nuist come.
Mkkcukv
Alas!
Thou canst not count thy years to come of pain? 415
Pkomktmeits
They last while Jove nuist reign ; nor more, nor less
Do 1 desire or fear.
Mk.r< cnv
Yet ])ause, and i)lunge
Into eternity, where recorded time.
Even all that we nnau'ine, aL^e on ane.
iSeenis hut a point, and tlu; leluetant nund
Flags wearily in its unending flight,
420
piLOMETiiEUs rxnn und
61
Till it sink, dizzy, blind, lost, sliolterless :
P<M('h;ino(' it has not nrinbert'd tlio slow yuars
Which thou nuist spend in toitiue, unr»pii(;ved ? 424
I'liuMI/niKUS
IVrchance no thonglit can count thcni, yet they pass.
Mkk* T uv
If th(^u niijihtst dwiU anionj;' li.e (iods the while
Lapped in voluptuous joy ?
Pkomktukus
I would not (}uit
This bleak ravine, these unrepentant pains.
MKKrrKY
Alas! I wonder at, yet pity thee.
Promktukus
Pity the self-desj^ising slaves of Heaven, 430
Not me, within whose mind sits peace serene.
As licht in the sun, throned. How vain is talk!
Call up the fiends !
loNE
O sister, look! White fire
Has cloven to the roots yon hu^e snow-loaded cedar ;
How fearfully (iod's thunder liowls behind ! 4,sr)
]\rFK( ritv
I must obey his words and thine : alas !
Most heavily remorse han<;s at mv heart!
PaXiHF.A
See where t^'e child of Heaven, with wiuircd feet.
Runs down the slanted snnlijrht of the dawn.
U i
M
m
f| J
(;2
pnoMrruF.vs rxiiorxD
iD.Ni:
Deal' Slater, close tliy ]>]tiiiics over thine ovi's, IK
Lest tin. II l,rli,,l(| and di... Tliry come, they come,
nhii'k.iiiii- the hiith -if dav uitii coinith'xs wiie^s,
And hollow undeinealh. Id^e death.
I""ii;>i' I-'iKv
Prometheus !
Skcovi) Fcia-
( (
Immortal Titan I
TllIKI) F'l-KV
('liampion of Ilenven's slaves!
PuoMKTIlKrS
]fL whom some dreadt'nl voice invokes is here ; li")
Pmmetheus. the chained Titan. lIoiTil)le forms,
What and who are ye'/ Never yet there came
Phantasms so foul thronnh monster-teemino- Hell
Prom tile all-miscreative hrain of Jove;
Whilst T l)ehold such exeerahle shapes, 450
Meihiiiks [ n-row like what I contemplate,
And laugh and stare in loathsome sympathy.
FmsT Fury
We are the ministers of pain, and fear.
And disai)pointment, and mistrust, and hate.
And (din-in^- crime: and, as lean do^s pursue to.-.
Through wood and lake some stiiu-k ami sobhin"
lawn.
We tra(dv all things that weep, and bleed, and
live.
When tl e great King- betrays them to our will.
riiOMFTIlET'S rS'IiOl^XT) G3
PKOMKTMF.rs
inanv foiu'ful natures in niu! iiaiiic,
1 know ye; ami tlii'se lakes and eelioes know 100
TIh! darkness ami the elan<,nHir of your \viii<;s.
P.nt wliv more hideons than youi- lo-athed selves
(iatlier ye up in legions from the deep?
Sk<'om> FruY
We knew not that : Sistei's, rejoice, rejoice !
Pkomethkus
Can aught exult in its deformity? 465
SkCONI) Fl'KV
Tlie beauty of delij^lit makes lovers glad,
(iazintr on one another: so are we.
As from the rose whieh the pale priestess kneels
To "-ather for lier festal erown of flowers
The aerial crimson falls, ilushing her cheek, 470
So from our victim's destined agony
The shade which is our form invests us round ;
Else we are shapeless as our mother Night.
Pki>mkthi;us
I laugh your power, and his who sent you here.
To lowest scorn. Pour forth the cup of pain ! 475
FlKST FUKY
Thou thinkest we will rend thee bone from bone.
And nerve from nerve, working like lire within?
PUOMKTUKUS
aiil r.i Vuy uioincnL. ^i:: i:^---- = ■ • -
Ye rend me now : 1 care not.
[ t >
64
rnOMETHKUS rNTiOUND
Skcom) Fri;v
Dost
nnairine
We will Imt hw^h info tliy lidlcss eyes'^ 48(
1'i;n>i|.:TiiKrs
I vy.;-!) not what y.' do, I.iit what ye snfYcr,
l?''in,-L'vil. Cni.'l was tli.- pow.-r which culled
"i on, or aught else so wretched, into li^lit.
TiiiHi) FrKv
Thoii thiiik'st we will live through tliec, one by one,
Like animal life, and, though we can ohscure not 4.s5
The soul which burns within, that we will dwell
Beside it, like :i vain lon<l nndtitude
Vexing the self-content of wisest men :
That we will he dread thought beneath thy brain,
And foul desire round thine astonished heart, ' 490
And blood within thy labyrinthine veins
Crawling like agony ?
PliOMKTIIKUS
W by, ye are thus now ;
Yet am I king over myself, and rule
The torturing and conflicting tb- Migs within,
As Jove rules you when Hell grous mutinous. 495
CiioKrs OK FriUKs
From the ends of the eaith, from the ends of the
earth,
Where the night has its grave and the morning its
birth,
Come. come, come!
O ye who shake iiills witli tlie sercnm nf v.-.j^v 5>-.-:,4^V.
When cities sink iiowlin^- in ruin ; and ye 5uo
65
50S
510
515
I'UitMKTllKlS VMior.M)
AVho with wiiii^h'ss footsteps tniiiiitl*' tlin sea.
Ami close upon Slu])\viock and Famine's tnu-k,
Sit chatterinix witli j<>v on the foodloss wreck;
( 'onie. come, come !
Leave tlu- bed, low, ('(.Id, and red,
Strewed beneath a nation dead;
Leave the hatred, as in ashes
Fire is left for future Imrning:
It will burst in bloodier Hashes
When ye stir it, soon returnini,':
Leave the self-contempt implanted
In youn<; spirits, sense-enchanted,
Sliserv's yet nnkindled fuel:
Leave Hell's secrets half unchanted
To the maniac dreamer : cruel
More than ye can be with hate,
Is he with fear.
Come, come, pome!
We are steaminj; up from Hell's wide gate
And we burthen the blasts of the atmosphere,
But vainly we toil till ye come here.
loxE
Sister, I hear the thunder of new wings.
Pantuk V
These solid mountains quiver with the sound,
F:ven as the tremulous air: their shadows make 524
The space within my plumes more black than night.
FlHST FrRY
Your call was as a winged car.
Driven on whirlwinds fast and far ;
It rapt us from red gulfs ot war.
5'Jl
fl
I
jf
•11
HI
fil
G6
rnoMirniKi s r.\in>vsit
Sk< (».m> Kikv
From wide citi<;s, f:iiiiiiu--\vastt'(l ;
'I'liiKK \\n\
Ground lialf litunl, ami blood untasted ; b'M
FnrUTII Fl'HY
Kindly com-javcs, stfiii and cold.
Where blood with ^old is bonght and sold;
Fiirn Fruv
From tlio furnace, white and hot,
In which —
A Fruv
Sj)eak not: wliisper not :
I know all that ye would tell, rtWr^
])nt to speak nii^^ht break the spell
"Which nuist bend the Invincible,
The stern of thoni;ht ;
He yet delies the deepest power of ilell.
Fuuv
Tear the veil !
Anotiiku Fukv
It is torn.
CilOKlJS
The i)ale stars of the morn 5lo
Shine on a misery, dire to be borne.
Dost thou faint, nii-hty Titan? We lau-h thee to
scorn.
Dost thou boast the clear knowledge thou waken'dst
jr man '!
?1
riiOMirniEcs rsiiocMt 67
Then \v:is kiiulk'il williin liim :i thirst wliicli out-
ran
50
565
Those pciishiii- wntrrs : :i thirst of fit-rct' fever, 5ir,
ilop"', h)Vt', (h>iilit. ih'sire. which eoiisiiiiie him iov ever-
One eanir ith of ,i;cnth' worth.
Smiling;' on tht; sanguine earth;
His words ontlived lilni, like swift jxiisoii
Witiieiin;^ u\> ti iilli, peace, and pity.
Look! wlieie round tlie wi(h' horizon
Many a niillion-peoi)led city
Vonuts smoke in the hri_L;lit air;
Mark that outery of (h-spairl
"r is liis mihl and t^enth' <;!iost
Wailing- for the faith he liindh'd:
Look ai;ain! the flames almost
To a ^low■-w•()rm■s lamp have dwindled :
The survivors round the emhers
Gather in dread.
Joy, joy, joy I
Past a<^es crowd on thee, but eaeh one remembers;
And the future is dark, and the i)resent is spread
Like a pillow of thorns for thy slumberless head.
Sk.mk Hours I
Drops of bloody aj^ony flow
From his white and (piiverlng brow.
Grant a little respite now :
See I a disenchanted nation
Springs like day from desolation ;
To Truth its state is dedicate,
And Free<lom leads it fortli. her mate;
A le'Moned band of liidvcd brothers,
660
.')(>.•>
570
Tfi r 11 . ..l,:i,l..,,..
>» iiijiil jLi»J»C l-iiii^ ;-i- ;i**-i* wii
;!I]
Lji* i
G8
Si:\iii iiDKis II
1 is aiiotiier's :
Sri; how Iviiidrcil Diiinlrr kill |
'I'ls tlir villi;!-,. -liinr furdcatli Mild sin. r,ir,
\>\iun\. lik,. II, .\v will,'. Iiiilililt's wlihiu:
I ill I )cs|>,iir siiiotlii Is
TliL' .strug-lm-- w,)il,|, uliicli .I;iv,.s ;iiid fvr:iiits win.
[.!// f/ir FlKUI.s ra/iis/i, rjrfcj,f (,,ie.
Iom:
llaik, sister! what a low vi't dreadful '^vonn
(^iiitf uiisii|i|»iess,.,l is tcaiinn' up the heart
Of the L;()<id Titan, as storms tear the deep.
And heasts hear the se.i moaii in inland eaves.
Darest thou ol. serve how th," lieiids torture him?
Pan riiCA
Alas! 1 looked forth tuiee, but will no luorc.
580
Tom:
What didst thon see?
Pantiii:a
A woful si^ht : a youth
\\ ith i)atient looks, nailed to a enicitix.
585
What next?
loNi-;
i'-VVTHKA
Tin; lieaven around, the earth below,
.Vas })eo|)l..d with Ihiek shapes of human death,
All horrible, and wrouiiht by human hands:
And some anneiired th.e work of ]>!•!••.•!!• l-.i-^vfc
For men were slowly killed by frowns and smile
es
riioMhrriii'i's iwnor.M) 69
Ami otlitT sights too foul t(» s|n:ik ;iii(l live
\\'ciT waiidci ini; liy. Lft us tint tempt WMisr fear
r,\ lookiiii; I'oilli : tliMSf groans arc -rirf fimir^li.
H.hold :m riiiblcm: tlio^' who do oiidmo •'iO.'?
l)i'i']i \vfoiit;s for iiiaii. and scorn :unl rliains, bnt
lii'a])
'llioiisandfuld tornu'nt on tlicnisclvos and liini.
i'lioMinni'ts
IviMnit tlic an<;iiisli of tiiat lighted stare;
Close those wan lips: let that thorn-wounded hrow
Stream not with Mood : it niin<;les with thy tears I GOO
I"ix, iix those tortured orbs in jicai-e and death,
So thy sieU throes shake not that erueilix.
So those pale lingers i)lay iit)t with thy ,<;ore.
Oil horrihle! Thy name 1 will not speak.
It hath l)eeome a <'ursi-. I se«', I see 606
The wise, the mild, the lofty, and the just.
Whom thy slaves hate for hrinu' like to theo.
Some Imntfd hy foul lies from their heart's home, —
An early-chosen, latedamented home. —
As hoo(ied ounces cling to the driven hind ; 610
Sonu linked to eori)ses in unwholesome cells;
Si.ine — Hear I not the multitude lau-;!! loud .- —
Impaled in Ilnp.M-inii; lire: and mighty realms
Float l>y my feet, like sea-njuooted isles.
Whose sons are kneade<l down in common hlood filS
P.y the red light of their own burning homes.
I ''
J>
I'
'f
n
a
N
Ft'ltY
•>. ...-.,.. f 1,.-.
n f. rrff
F)lo<)(l linMi (•aii>L Net', uuu uti
Worse thiiij^s, unheard, unseen, remain behind
70
Worse '!
rilOMETIIErs VNUOUND
Pl{O.MKTIli:CS
Ol'O
f)2r,
In each Innaan lieart tcrroi- survives
ilie rmii it lias oo,.„e,l . tliu loftiest fear
All that they would disdain to think were true:
llypoerisy and custom make their ndnds
The fanes of many a worsiup, i;o\v outworn.
They dare not devise yood for mans estat'N
And yot they know not that thev do not <lare.
lie good want power, but to weep barren tears,
i he powerful goodness want: worse nee<l for them
Ihe wise want love : and those who love want wisdom;
And aJl best thmos are thus eonfused to ill.
Many are strong and rieli, and would be just,
P>ut live among their sufiering fellow-men
As if none felt : they know not wliat they do.
Pkometheus
Thy words are like a cloud of winged snakes;
And yet I pity those they torture not.
FriiY
Thou pitiest them '? I speak no more!
(i.'iU
635
[ Vanishes.
Pku.mkthkl-s
, Ah woe !
All woe. Alas: pain, pain ever, for over!
I ''lose my tearh'ss eyes, but see more elear
Jhy works within my woe-illumined mind
ihou subtle Tyrant .' IVaee is i:- the ..-rave-
Ihe grave hi.K.s all things b.-autiful and good.
-I am a (iod and cannot find it fl„.r«
640
,M
PROMETHEUS UNBOUND
71
Nor would I seek it: for, tliou-h drc'id revenge,
This is (Iffeat, fierce King! not victory.
The sights with which thou torturest gird niy soul
With new endurance, till the hour arrives ^5
WTicn they shall he no types of things which are.
Panthea
Alas I what sawest thou ?
Prometheus
There are two woes:
To speal;, and to hehold : thou spare me one.
Names are there, Nature's sacred watchwords, they
Were home aloft in bright emhlazonry ; 050
The nations thionged around, and cried aloud,
As with one voice. Truth, liberty, and h)ve !
Suddenly fierce confusion fell from heaven
Among them ; there was strife, deceit, and fear
Tyrants rushed in, and did divide the spoil.
This was the shadow of the truth I saw.
6r)5
The Eaktii
I felt thy toiture, son, with such mixed joy
As pain and virtue give. To cheer thy state,
1 bid ascend those subtle and fair spirits, 6-''9
Whose homes are the dim caves of human thought,
And who inhabit, as birds wing the wind.
Its world-surrounding ether: they behold
Beyond that twilight realm, as in a glass,
The fut.ue : may they speak comfort to thee !
Panthea
GG5
Look, sister, where a troop of spirits gather.
Like Hocks of elouds in sjuing's delightful weather,
Thronirin r i" the bine -Mr!
72
riiOMETHEUS UNliOUNL
lo.VK
And see ! more come,
675
li.kc fountain-vapours ulien the winds are dumb,
That climb uj) the ravine in scattered lines.
AvC hark .' is it the music of the pines ? 670
Is it the lake ? Is it the waterfall ?
Panthea
'Tis something sadder, sweeter far than all.
Chorus of Spikits
From un remembered ages we
Gentle guides and guardians be
Of heaven-oppressed mortality !
And we breatlie, and sicken not,
The atmosphere of human thought :
Be it dim, and dank, and gray.
Like a storm-extinguished day,
Travelled o'er by dying gleams :
Be it bright as all between
Cloudless skies and windless streams.
Silent, liquid, and serene.
As the birds within the wind.
As the fish within the wave,
As the thoughts of man's own'mind
Float through all above the grave :
^Ve make tliere our liquid lair.
Voyaging cloudlike and unpent
Through the boundless element.
Tlience we bear the prophecy
Which begins and ends in thee !
loVK
More vet come, one bv nn.^ • f i,,
- -J • •■'?•_ iiii *i,i*
Looks radiant as the air around a star.
680
685
690
1 ^.i
itiiii mem
A'
\
rnOMKTllE I '.S ( 'NB O I uVT)
FlKST SriKIT
On a liattlc-tniinpet's blast
I fled hitlier, fast, fast, fast,
'Mid tlie darkness upward cast.
From the dust of creeds outworn.
From the tyrant's banner torn,
Gathering round me, onward borne,
There was mingled many a cry —
Freedom! Hope! Death! Victory!
Till they faded through the sky ;
And one sound, above, around,
One sound, beneath, around, above,
Was moving ; 't was tlie soul of love :
'T was the hope, the ]n-o])hecy,
Which begins and ends in thee.
Second Spirit
A rainbow's arch stood on the sea.
Which rocked beneath, immovably ;
And the triumphant storm did flee,
Like a conqueror, swift anu proud,
Between, with many a captive cloud,
A shapeless, dark and rai)id crowd.
Each i)y lightning riven in half.
I heard the thunder hoarsely laugh :
^li 'htv fleets were strewn like chaff
And spread beneath a hell of death
O'er the white waters. I alit
On a great ship lightning-split.
And speeded hither on the sigh
Of one who gave an enemy
His plank, then plunged aside to die.
73
695
700
705
710
715
720
H
n
hi
74
730
735
PnOMETUErs VNliOUX])
Tmiil) S I'll; IT
I sato beside a s:ige's bed,
And tlie lump was hurniiiy red 7j
Near the book where lie had fed,
^\ heii a Dream with plmnes of Haine
To his pillow Iioveriny came,
And I knew it was the same
Whieh had kindled lonn- ao-o
ity, ehxjuenee, and woe ;
And the world awhile below
Wore the shade its lustre made.
It has borne me here as fleet
As Desire's lightning feet:
1 must ride it back ere morrow,
Or the sage uill wake in soi'row.
FoHHTII SpIKIT
On a i)oet\s lips J slept,
Dreaming like a love-adept
In tile sound his breathing kept: 740
Nor seeks nor finds he mortal blisses,
l^ut feeds on the aerial kisses
Of shapes that haunt thought's wildernesses.
lie will wateh from dawn to gloom
The hdve-reflected sun illume
The yellow bees in the ivy-bloom,
Nor heed nor see, what things they be i
Bnt from these create lit; can
Forms more real than living man,
Nurslings of immortality!
One of these awakened me.
And I sped to succour thee.
71.'
l-iO
l!
riiOMETIIEUS I'NUOUND ^5
loN'K
iVliold'st thou not two shapes from the ea>t and west
("oiiie, as two (lovus to one beloveil nest,
Twin nnrslin;;s of tlie all-sustaining air, "•"'•'">
On swift still wings glide down the atniosidiere?
And, hark: their sweet, sad voiees ! 'tis despair
Min"led with love and then dissolved in sound.
Paxthea
Canst thou speak, sister? all my words are drowned.
lo.VK
Their beauty gives me voice. See how they float 7G0
On their sustaining wings of skyey grain,
Orange and azure deepening into gold !
Their soft smiles light the air like a star's fire.
CnoHUs OF Spirits
Ilast thou beheld the form of Love ?
Fifth Si'ikit
As over wide dominions
I sped, like some swift cloud that wings the wide air's
wildernesses, 765
That i)lanet-crested shape swept by on lightning-
braided ])!nions.
Scattering the liquid joy of life from his ambrosial
tresses :
His footsteps paved the world with light; but as I
passed 't was fading.
And hollow ruin yawned behind : great sages bound
in madness.
And headless ])at riots, and pale youths who perished,
unuphraiding, ^'^^
f ^
i'l
70
PllOMETlIEVS UNIiorXD
Gleamed in the nio|,t. I wandered <,Vr, till thou, ()
Kin^- of sadness,
Turnr.l hy thy snii!e the worst I saw to rec.dlected
laiiness.
Sixth Si'ikit
All, sister : Desolation is a delicate thinj;:
It walks not on the eartli, it floats not on the air,
J'.ut treads with silent footstep, and fans with silent
\vinj4'
The tender hopes whi.di in their hearts the best and
gentlest l)ear ;
Who, soothed to false repose hy the fanning plumes
above.
And the music-stirring motion of its soft and busy
feet, ^
Dream visions of aerial joy, and call the monster
Love,
And wak.', and fin.l the shadow Pain, as he whom
780
now we greet.
Ciiouus
Though Ruin now Love's shadow be,
Following him. destroyingly.
On Death's wliite and winged steed,
Which the fleetest cannot flee.
Trampling down l,oth flower and weed, 785
Alan and beast, and foul and fair.
Like a tenijx'st through the air;
Thou shalt (piell this horseman grim,
Woundless though in heart or limb.
Pkomkthki's
spirits ; Jiow know ye this shall be ?
790
riiOMETIIEl'S rX HOUND 77
CnOKi's
In the atmosphere we breathe,
As Imds g;\i)\v red when the snow-storms flee,
From sprini;- uatherini;- np hcneatli,
"Whose mihl winds shake tlie elder-hrake.
And the waiKh'rini;- herdsmen know 795
That the white-tliorn soon will blow:
AVisdom, Justice, Love, and Peace,
When they strugfjle to increase.
Are to us as soft winds be
To shepherddmys. tiie propliecy 800
AVhi(di begins and ends in thee.
loNE
Where are the Spirits fled ?
Pa.nthea
Only a sense
Remains of them, like the omnipotence
Of music, when the inspired voice and lute
Lanrjiiish, ere yet the responses are mute,
Whicli throup;]! the deep and labyrinthine sold.
Like echoes through h)ng caverns, wind and roll.
805
PuoMK/rnKi's
ITow lair these air-born shai)esl and yet T feel
Most vain all hope but love : and thou art far,
Asia! who, when my being overflowed, 810
Wert like a golden chalice to bright wine
Which else had sunk into the thirsty dust.
All things are still: alnsl how heavily
This (juiet morning weighs njxjn my h(>art :
Though I should dream I could even sleep with
ill!
t'-
i'i-' i
ii
78
PnOMKTlIErs VS BOUND
I
1 i
If sliiiiilxM- wore dan'wA not. I would fain
I5o wliiit it is my ik'stiny to be,
Tliu siiviour and the stivn-tli of suffering man,
Or sink into tlie ori-iiial <;idf of tliinj;,s:°
Tliciv is no ai^ony, and no solace left ; S20
Karfli can console, Heaven can torment no more.
Pa NT hi; A
I last thou forgotten one who watches thee
The cold dark night, and never sleeps but when
The shadow of thy spirit falls on her?
Pi{i).MKTi[i;rs
I said all hope was vain hut love: thou lovest. 825
Paxthka
Deeply in tinth : but the eastern star looks white,
And Asia waits in that far Indian vale,
The scene of her sad exile : rugged once
And desolate and frozen, like this ravine :
But now invested with fair flowers and herbs, S30
And haunted by sweet airs and sounds, which flow
Among the woods and waters, from the ether
Of her transforming presence, which would fade
If it were mingled not with thine. Farewell !
ACT II
ScKN-K I. — Morning. A lorehj rnle hi the Indian
Caiiniaus. Asia, n/one.
Asia
From all the blasts of heaven thoii hast descended:
Yes like
-j--:iii, i;ii.L: .1 LiiUUgiit VViiieii uiuktiS
PROMKTHKl 'S VS IhH'SI)
79
10
If)
riiwcintPil tears tlin.iii;- to the lioniy t'ycs,
And iR'atin^s liaunt tlit- desolated heart,
Wliieh should have Uarut repose: thou hast descended
Cradled in tempests; thou dost wake, () Spring!
() child of many winds! As suddenly
I'hou coniest as the memory of a dream.
Which now is sad heeause it hath heen sweet;
Like genius, ov like joy which riseth uj)
As from the earth, elothing with gulden clouds
The desert of our life.
This is the season, this the day, the hour;
At sunrise thou shouldst come, sweet sister nuue,
Too long desired, tot. long delaying, come!
How like death-worms the wingless moments crawl!
The point of one white star is (juivering still
Deep in the orange liglit of widening morn
lievond the purple mountains : through a chasm
Of wiud-divided nust the darker lake 20
IveHects it; now it wanes: it gleams again
As the waves fade, and as the burning threads
Of woven cloud unravel in pale air:
"T is lost ! and through yon j)eaks of eloudlike suow
The roseate sunlight (piivers : hear I not 25
The JOolian music of her sea-green plumes
AVinnowing the erin ,on dawn? [I'anthka enters.
I feel, I see
Those eyes which burn through smiles that fade in
tears.
Like stars half-ciuenched in mists of sUver dew.
lieloved and most beautiful, who wearest 30
The sl-.adow of that soul by which I live,
How late thou art ! the spjiered sun h:ul climbed
The sea ; my heart was si(di with hope, before
The prinliesb air felt thy beluleu pluuiea.
If
\ i'
II
• r
'i
i^l
E M\. ]■
80 rnoMETUEis rynorxD
I'antmk.v
Pardon, f;r.\'^ Sister! hut my \vin<;s woro faint :ir,
W itii tlie (Icli^lit of ;i iciiicriilx'n.'d (Ircaiu,
As art' tilt' noontide (diiines of suninu'r wintls
S;itiat>' witli swet't flowers. I was wont to sleep
reac.fidly, and awake I't-fresln 1 and ealin,
Uefore tlie sa.Tcd Titan's fall, and tliv 40
rnhapiH- love, had niatle, tlirouj^h use and pity,
]iotli love autl wot! f.'iniiliar to niv heart
As they had j^-'rown to thine: erewhile I slept
Tinier the glaucous caverns of old Ocean
Within dim i)owers of j^n-een and purple moss, 45
Our yoiuii;- lone's soft and milky aims
I.tcketl then, as now, behind my dark, moist liair,
^^ hile my shut eyes and cheek were pressed within
The foldeil de))th of her life-hroathin^- hosom :
JJiit not as now, since I am made the wind 50
Which fails beneath the nmsie that I bear
Of thy most wordless converse; since dissolved
Into the sense with which love talks, my rest
Was troubled and yet sweet ; my waking hours
Too full of care and i)ain.
Anil let me read thv dream.
Asia
Lift up thine eyes,
Paxtiika
As I have said,
"With our sea-sister at his feet I slept.
Ihe mountain mists, condensing at our voice
Jnder the moon, had sj)read tiieir snowy flakes,
From the keen ice shieldini,^ our linked sleep.
Then two dreams came. One, I remember not.
60
J'liOMETIIErs rNliO I NI)
81
|)iit in tlu' other liis ]);ile wouiid-vvorn limbs
F.U fiDin rroinctlH'iis, aiitl the uziin' nij,'lit
(ut'W i;i(li;int with the j;loiv of tliivt form
Which lives uni'h:iii>;«Ml within, iiiid his voice fell e/j
Like music which makes <;i<hly the dim brain,
I'aint with intoxic:ition of keen joy:
"Sister of her whose footsteps jtave the world
With loveliness — more fair than an<j;ht but her,
Whose shadow thou art — lift thine eyea on nie ! " 70
I lifted them : the overpowerinj; lij^ht
Of that immortal shai)e was shadowed o'er
J'.y love; which, from his soft and flowing; limbs,
And i)assion-i)arted lips, and keen, faint eyes,
Steamed forth like vaporous fire; an atmosphere 75
Whiidi wrapt me in its all-dissolvinjij i)ower,
As the warm ether of the niorninj;' sun
Wraps ere it drinks some cloud of wandering dew.
I saw not, heai-d not, moved not, only felt
His presence flow and minj-le through my blood
Till it became his life, and his grew mine,
And I was thus absorbed, until it past.
And like the vapours when the s.in sinks down,
(lathering again in drops nium the pines.
And tremulous as they, in the deep night
My being was comlensed : and as the rays
Of thought were slowly gathered, I could hear
His voice, whose accents lingered ere they died
Like footsteps >f weak melody: thy name
Among the many sounds alone I heard 90
Of what mioht be articidate ; tliough still
1 listened througli the night when sound was none.
lone wakened then, and said to me :
41 /"i._„„f fi-..".;i :iivMr!r> wb.nt trop.bles me to-nierlit?
I always knew what I desired before, 96
80
85
M
IW
!
82
PnOMETlIKl'S J'NHOrxi,
Nor ovir found (lclit;lit to wisli in vaii).
I'nit IKiw I (•.iiiiK.t tril I lire wliat I Hcck ;
J kiHiu not : soiii.-tliiii;;- sw.'ct, sitico it is sweet
Kvrii f(, (Icsiic: it is tliy spoit, false sist<'i' ;
Tlioii Iiast <Iiscov('ie<I sonic cncliantincnt, oM,
AViioM' s|).!is liavc stolen my s|urit as I slept
And ininui.'d it with tliinc: fm- wiicn just now
We kissed, I felt within thy parted lips
Tiie sweet air that sustained nie, and the warmth
Of the life-Mood, for loss of whieli I faint,
<^iiven'd between > \\v intertwlniii"- arms "
1 answered not, for tliu eastern star <,new pale,
\^nt fled to thee.
inn
105
1
Asia
Thon speakest, bnt thy words
Are as the air: I feel them not. Oh, lift
Thine eyes, that 1 may read his written soui ! 110
Pa NTH i: A
I lift them, thou<;li they droop heneatli the load
Of that they would express: what canst thou see
But thine own fairest siiadow imaged there?
Asia
Thine eyes are like tlie deep, bhie, boundless lieaven
Contracted to two circles underneath
Their long, fine lashes: dark, far, measureless,
Orb within orb, and line through line inwoven.
Pa XT Hi: A
Why lookest thou as if a spirit past?
11.5
j'UoMirnin's rwiiors'i}
A>IA
Tl
HMO IS
:i cliaiiL;!' : ln-vniul tlirir imiiost (lt;}>tli
I
sec .1 sikkIi', ;i slwipc
t 1-
II.
:irr:nti|
IJO
In llir M)ti li'^lit of his own siuilrs. uliirh siircinl
l/lKf iMiliiU I'lMlil lllc cliiml-Mir! ullllilrd Illiinll.
I'mmct I'fiis. it i-^ tliiiir! |)c|iait ii<»t yd!
S.iv iml tliosi- smiles lliat ut: sliall iiicft auaiii
Within tliat Ini^lit iiavilion whicli their heaiiis 1_'5
Shall hiiild oil tilt; wasti- world? The dream is tola.
What shape is that l.etweeii us'.'' Its nide hair
Koii^heiis the wind that lifts it, its i-e^Mi'd
Is wild and qui'- , yet t is a thln^ of air.
For through its j;ray r<»l»»' fleams the <;()lden dew l."()
Whose stars the noon has (juentdied nt)t.
Dhkam
rANTllKA
Follow ! Follow I
It is mine other dream.
Asia
It disappears.
Pantiik >
It ])asses now into my mind. .Methou;;ht
As we sate hero, the flower-enfolding buds
Hurst t)n yon lightning-blasti'd almond-tree, ISf)
When swift from the white Scythian wil'i.'rness
A wind swept forth wrinkling:- the earth with frost:
I looked, and all the hlossoms were blown down;
Hut on each leaf was stamped, as the blue bells
Of Ilyaeinth tell AjHyllo's written grief, 140
O, FOLLOW, follow!
II
iff] i
i-
84 PROMETHEUS UNIiOUXn
Asia
As you .si)eak, your words
Fill, pause by pause, my own foi-oottoii sleoj)
AN itii siiapes. Mothought among the lawns to
gi'tluT
W »' wMiidcrcd, luideni-.'ath the yonnp- giay dawn.
And iiiultitmU's of dense white Heeey elouds I IT)
Were wandering in thiek Hocks along the moun-
tains,
Shepherded hy the slow, unwilling wind ;
And the white dew on uii new-liladed grass,
Just i)iereing the dark earth, hung silently ;
And there was more which I reniemher not : 150
IJut on the shadows of tlie morning clouds,
Athwart the purple mountain slope, was written
Follow, O, follow! as they vanished hy ;
And on each herb, from which Heaven's dew had
fallen,
The like was stamped, as with a withcr'-ig fire; 155
A wind arose among the pines : it shook
The clinging nnisic from their houglis. and then
Low, sweet, faint sounds, like the farewell of
ghosts.
Were heard : O, follow, follow, f-OLLOW ME !
And then I said : " Panthea, look on me I " IGC
But in the depth of those beloved eyes
Still I saw, FOLLOW, FOLLOW !
Echo
Follow, follow !
Pan'tifka
Tho crags, this clear sjiring morning, mock our voices,
^ia tiiey Vveie spinL-Longueti.
riiOMETUEUS UN HOUND
Asia
It is sonic 1)01112
»0
1G4
Around the crags. AVluit fine clear sounds ! O, list !
EcHOKs {unseen)
Eclioes we : listen !
We cannot stay :
As (lew-stars j;listen
Tiien fade away —
Cliild of Ocean !
170
Asia
Hark ! Spirits speak. Tlie liquid responses
Of their aerial tongues yet sound.
Pant HE A
I hear.
EcHOKS
O, follow, follow,
As our voice recedeth
Through the caverns hollow,
Where the forest spreadeth ;
{More distant.)
O, follow, follow !
Through the caverns hollow,
As the song floats thou pursue,
Where the wild bee never flew,
■ Throuuli the noontide darkness deep,
By tlie odour-breathing slec])
Of. faint night-flowers, and tlie waves
At the fountain-lighted caves.
While our music, wild and sweet,
IMocks thy gently falling feet,
/ M.:i 1 ..f /I,.,. .1,1 '
175
180
186
WM-
.*:¥-,
I.
86
l-liOMKTlIEUS UNnoi'Mj
Asia
Shall ue ].tusue the sound? It grows more faint
And distant.
Paxthka
List ! the strain floats nearer now.
EcilOKS
In the world unknown
Sleeps a voice unspoken ;
I»y t!iy step alone
Can its rest he broken ;
Child of Ocean I
Asia
How the notes sink upon the ebbing wind I
EciIOKS
O, follow, follow !
Tluough the caverns hollow,
As the song floats thou pursue,
hy the wo. land noontide dew,
By the forests, lakes, and fountains.
Through the nuvny-folded mountains ;
To the rents, and gidfs, an.l chasms, '
AVhere tlie Eartli reposed from spasms,
On the day when He and Thou
Parted, to couuningh' now ;
Child of Ocean!
190
195
200
205
Asia
C.me, swr,t rai.lhea. Ilnh thy hand in inlne.
And follow , viv the voices failr away.
i liOMKTIlEl'S I'MlorND
87
ScExn II. — .1 Foi-fsf, hifrrri'nt'jled irith Rocks and
Carerns. Asia a?i(/ 1'a \tiika /^'/.vs intuit. Tivo yoiuKj
Fduns are sittiwj <>n a Rock, listeninrj.
Skmuhorus I OK Spirits
The path throuj^li which that h>vely twain
Have past, hy ee(hir, pine, and yew, 210
And eai'li dark tree that ever grew,
Is curtained out from heaven's wide hhie ;
Nor sun, nor moon, nor wind, nor I'ain,
Can ])ierce its interwoven howeis,
Nor aught, save where some eh)ud of dew, '.M5
Drifted ah)ng the eartli-creeping breeze,
Between the trunks of the lioar trees.
Hangs each a i)earl in the i)ale flowers
Of the green laurel, Idown anew ;
And bends, and then fades silently, --0
One frail and fair anemone :
Or when some star of niany a one
Tliat climbs and wanders throtigh stcc]) night,
Has found th(> cleft througli which alone
Beams fall from high those depths npon, 2J5
Ere it is boine away, away,
By the swift heavens that cannot stay,
It scatters drops of golden light,
Like lines of rain that ne'er unite :
And the gloom divine is all around ; 230
And underneath is the mossy ground.
Si;.MicmiKis II
There the voluptuous nightingales,
Are awake thiough all the broad noonday.
AVhen one with bliss oi' sinlness falls.
And through the windless ivy-boughs, 235
SicK' witll «\\<'Mt liiv.'. rlvnrmc dvi'ic -"w-iv
if
M-
IS '
l!' f
( ' l
88
rnOMETIIKlS I W ]UJ LMJ
Oil its mate's nuisic-pantinn;' hosom ;
Aiiotlier. from the swinniiij^- blossom,
Wjiteliiii<,r to catch tlie hiiii^niid ch)se
Of the last strain, tlieii lifts on hi<'h 240
The wings of the weak nieloily,
Till s uie new strain of feeling- i)ear
The son^^ anil all the woods are mute;
A\ hen there is heard through the dim air
The rush of wings, and rising there 245
Like many a lake-surrounded flute,
Sounds overflow the li.- iier's brain
So sweet, that joy is aln.ost pain.
SkMK IIUKUS I
There those enchanted eddies play
Of echoes, music-tongued, which draw, 250
By Demogorgon's mighty law,
A\ ith meltuig rapture, or sweet awe,
All spirits on that secret way :
As inland boats are driven to Ocean
Down streams made strong with mountain-thaw ; 255
And first there conu's a gentle sound
To those in talk or slumber bouiul.
And wakes the destined soft emotion.
Attracts, ini])els them : those who saw
Say from the breathing earth behind 260
There steams a plume-uplifting wind
Which drives thetn on their ))ath, while they
lielieve their own swift wings and feet
Tlic sweet desires within obev :
And so they float u])on their way, 265
Until, still sweet, but loud and strong.
The storm of sound is driven along,
Sucked up and hurrying: as they fleet
liehind, its or-athering billows meet
I'llOMETIIErs VS HOUND 80
And to the fatal mountain bear 270
Like clouds amid the yielding air.
First Faun
Cimst thou imagine where those s])iiits live
Which inaki! such delicate niusie in the woods?
We liaunt within the least frequented caves
And closest coverts, and we know these wilds, 275
Yet never meet them, though we hear them oft:
Where niav thev hide themselves?
Skcom> Faux
'T is hard to tell :
I have heard those more skilled in spirits say,
The bubbles, which the enchantment of the sun
Sucks from the pale faint water-flowers that pave 280
The oozy bottom of clear lakes aiul juxds,
Are the pavilions where such dwell and float
Under the green and golden atmosphere
Which noontide kindles through the woven leaves;
And when these burst, and the thin fiery air, 2sr)
The which they breathed within those lucent
domes.
Ascends to flow like meteors through the night,
Tliey ride on tlicm, and rein their headlong s])eed,
And bow their burning crests, and glide in fire
Under the waters of the earth again. 290
First Faux
If such live thus, have others other lives.
Under jiink blossoms or within the bells
Of mcndow flowers, or folded violets deep,
Or on their dying odours, wIk u they die,
Or in llie sunlight of the spuercd dew V 295
i 5
wm
00
TnoMtniiFAs I '.V isorxh
Si:((iM> Facv
Ay, many nioiv wliicli we may well diviiu'.
r>iit >li()iil.l wt! stay to speak, noontide would come,
And tliwart Silemis find liis i^outs undrawn,
And .nind-v to sino- those wise and lovely songs
Of fate, and ehanee, and (M)d, and Chaos old," r;0(;
And Love, and the chained Titan's woful doom.
And how lie sliall he loosed. an<I make the earth
One brotherhood: delightful strains whieh cheer
Our solitary twili-hts. and whicii charm
lo sdence the unenvying uightinyales. ijor,
ScKNK 111. — J I'nniarl,- uf Uurk niiioiHJ Mountains.
Asia uihI I'anthka.
I'anthka
Hither the .sound has hoi'ue us — to the realm
Of I)emo-;orgon. and the mighty portal,
Like a volcano's meteor-hreathing chasm,
Whence the oracular vapour is hurled up
Which Icnely men drink waiulerin- in their youth, .JlO
And call truth, virtue, h)ve, genius, or jov.
That maddeidng wine of life, whose dregs they drain
To deej) iiito.xication : and uplift.
Like Ma'uads who cry loud, Kvoe ! Kvoe .'
The voice which is contagion to the world.
31.1
A.>
SI A
Fit throne for .such a Tower! MagniHcentI
I low glor^.us art thou, Karth ! Ami if thou be
The sliadow of some spirit lovelier still,
'i'hough evil stain its work, and it should be
Ldi(! its crciitiou. weak yet l.e;iufiful.
1 could fall (huvii and woi^hip that and thee.
Lveu now my iioart adoretli. V\ ouderful !
:rjft
\,
PR OMETII K I 'S US nor .V /)
Look, sister, ere the v:i])oiir dim tliy bruii
'u'lieiitli is :i wii
1(> pi;
nil ()
f hill.
)\vv iiust.
As :i hike. |):iviiii; in tiie iiioriiiii<;- sky,
91
325
Witl
I azure waves
which l)ur>t in siiver liii'ht,
Some Indian vale. IJehold it. rolling < a
Tiider the cnnllim; winds, and islandint;-
The peak whereon we stand, midway, aronnd,
I'iiu'iuctnred hy th.' dark anil hloomin^ forests, 330
Dim twilii;ht 1; n>. and stream-illuniine<l caves,
And wind-cnehaiitcd shapes of waiulennu' nii^t :
And far on hl-h the keen sky-eleavini; luonntains
From icy spires of snidike radiance tling
The dawn, as lifted Ocean's dazzlini; spray, 335
From some Atlantic islet scattered uj),
Spanj^les the wind with lanii>-like water-drops.
The vale is girdled with their walls, a howl
Of cataracts from their thaw-cloven ravines
Satiates the listening- wind, continuons, vast, 340
Awfnl as silence. Hark! the milling snow!
The snn-awakened avalanche! whose mass,
Thrice sifted by the storm, had gathered there
Flake after flake, in heaven-defying minds 344
As thon'dit bv thought is i Ued, till soiae great truth
Is loosened, and the nation, eclio round,
Siiaken to their roots, as do the mountains now.
Pa N'T III: A
Look how the gusty sea of mist is breaking
In crimson foam, even at our feet ! it rises
As Ocean at the enchantment of tlie moon 330
Kound foodless men wrecked on some oozy isle.
Asia
The fragments of the cloud are scattered up;
The wind tlfit )'ft> th^m di-.-nUviiH < niv hair:
H
l^ h
» ,;
• ii
92
rnoyiETii k i -s rsno us u
Its Itillows now sweep o'er luino eves: my hniin
(irows (li/./.\ ; I see tliin shapes within the mist.
a.-ir*
Pantiika
A coiiiitenaiice witli Ix'ckdiiiii^- smiles: there hurns
All azure fire within its golih'n hx-ks I
Another and another : hark I they speak I
S()\(; OK Si'iKiTs
To the deep, to the deep,
Down, down I
TiM-on;4li tlie shade of sleep,
Thronjuh the eloudy strife
Of Death and of Life ;
Through the veil and the bar
Of thini^s whieli seem and are,
Even to the steps of the remotest throne,
Down, down I
y(JU
305
While the sound wliirls around,
Down, down I
As the fawn draws the hound,
As the liL;htiiin<; the vapour.
As a weak moth the taper:
Death, despair; love, sorrow:
Time, lioth: to-day. to-morrow:
As steel obeys the spirit of the stone;
Down, down I
Thron^rh thi' ^ray, void abysm,
1 )own, down !
Where the air is no ])rism.
And the moon and stars are not.
And tlie eavern-(M'a<'s wear not
370
375
r?Rn
rnoMETiiEUs usnorsD 98
Tlio radhincc of Ilnivcn
Nor the u'loom to Ivirtli f;ivcn,
"Where tliere is one y rvjiding, one alono, —
Down, down I •^^''
In Ihr (h'jith of the Jcfj),
1 )own, down I
T>iko veiU-d ]i,<;litnln^' asleep.
Like tlie spark nursed in endters,
The hist h>ok Love r<Mnend)ers,
Like a diamond, which slnnes
On the dark wealtli of mines,
A spell is troasnred hnt for thee alone.
Down, down I
390
3'J5
400
We have honnd thee, we gnide thee;
Down, down !
"With the bright form beside thee ;
Resist not tlie weakness !
Sneh stren-th is in meekness
That the Eternal, the Immortal,
Must unloose throuL;li life's jiortal
The snake-like Doom c. iled underneath his throne
liy that alone.
ScEXK JY.— The Carp of DKMOdoucox. Asia anr
P.vntiii:a.
Panthka
What veiled form sits on thnt ebon throne?
Asia
The veil has fallen.
Paxthka
I see a mighty darkness 405
, 1-. '
94 riiOMETUKis rsnorxn
I'iHiiil; tlir scat (if |i()ucr. and vn\ of <;:\oo\\
I>ait i.minl, as li-lit from tlic; iiifridiaii smi,
1 ii-a/.d ii|>oii and sliaprlcvs: iumiIhm- limb,
>.()r lollM. Mor out line ; yet ut' feci )t IS
A liviiii;- Spirit.
I)i:.M()<ioi;iioN
Aslc wliat tlioii \v(uil(lst know.
Asia
"Wliat canst thou toll?
I)i:Mu(;oK(;«)N
All thing- i.,o„ (liii-'st demand.
Asr.v
"VVlio made tlie living: world?
I)i;.MU(iUii(:o.v
Gou.
Asia
Who made all
That it contains ? thonght, passi<jn, reason, will,
-Imagination ?
I)i:MO',oij(iov
God : Almighty (iod.
Asia
AVI
\\ lio made lliat sense which, when the winds of spring
In rarest visitation, or the voice 410
Of one beloved heard in youth alone,
i'iiJs the taint eyes with falling tears which dim
rnOMETUKVS rSUOVND
TIh' rnili:int looks of iinlu'wailiii:; tlosvcrs,
Aii'l Icavi > this lu-opU'd earth a solitude
\\\wi\ it returns no more':'
l)KMo(iOHiiON
Merciful (lod.
Asia
And who made terror, madness, crimo, remorse,
Whieh from the links of the -iieat chain of things.
To fvery th(»n<,dit within the mind of man
Sway and dra- heavily, and each one reels
rnder the load towards the l)it of death ;
Abandoned hope, and love that turns to hato ;
And self-contempt, hitterer to driidc than blood;
I'ain, whos unheeded and familiar speech
Is howlinii-, and keen shrieks, day :ifter day;
And Hell, or the sharp fear of Hell?
420
425
DKMOr.OKtiON
Asia
He reigns.
I'ttor liis name: a world pining in i)ain
Ask but his name : curses shall drag him down.
•130
1 '
J
ml
I '1
I
V !.
He reigns.
l)KMo<;()U(iox
A>1A
Wl
10 reigns
I feel, I know it : who ?
DKMOC.OIMiON'
Asia
? There was the Heaven and Earth al fust,
He reigns. 434
7
9G
riioMKTifhrs rwiunwi)
41(1
us
450
And I.!-Iit:.iul Lov ; thru Saturn, from wIh,s(. throne
Tim.- I.'" -1 ..i.vious .sli:i,|„w : sii.-li tin- stat..
<>•" 'I" - primal spirits iM-nrafli lijs sway,
•^\''" • ,i'»y of tl«>\v,.rs and livin- l.-avus '
''"'""• \\'>"1 "!• smi lias witli..r...| tlicu.
A nil -riMivital uoriiis: i.nt li.- rrl'ii,,.,!
'I''"' I'irlliri^lit <>{ Il.rir l.,!!,- kn.ns 1..,]^;,.. ,„,«■.. r,
'I'll.- >lviil ui.ici, ulcl.ls t|i.,> .Inn,. III., ilh tli..u-ht
U'lii.'li pi.MVfs this <|iiM uiiivers.' lik,; li^lit,
S-'lf-cinpin', and tlu' iiiaj<'sty of l.>v.' ;
F..r tl.ir.t of whi-.-h th.T faint.-.l. Tiu',. Proinotl.c
(Javo \vis(l.)ni, wliich is str.'ii-tli, to .lupitrr,
Au.l uitli this law alone, - Let man hv frcj,"
n.'tluid him with th.,' .loniinion of wide Heaven.
To liimw nor faith, nor love. ,u,r law, to h.. -
Onmipotrnt iuit fri.MulIess, is to rcii;ii ; '
And .I..v(' n.,w r.i-ned ; for on tin; ra.-e of man
First famine, aii.l then toil, and then disease.
Strife, wounds, and ehastly death unseen l)ef()re,
Fell : and the nnseasonahle seasons dr.)ve,
With alternatin,.; shafts of fn.st and fire, '
Their shelterless, pale tribes to mountain oaves:
And in their deseit hearts fiere(! wants lie sent,'
And mad dis(iui.tu<les, and shadows idle
Of nnreal <;ood, whieh levied nmtual war.
So ruinini,r the lair wherein they ra,<;ed.
Prometheus saw, and waked tlie le-^'oned liopos
Which sl.vp witliin folded Flysian riowers.
Nepenthe. .Muly, Amaranth, fa.leless Uooms,
That they mi-ht hi<le with thin and rainbow winog
The shape of Death: and Love he sent to bind^
The disunited tendrils of that vine
Whieh bears the wine of life, th.,' Immn.! I.earf :
And he tamed tire, whieh, like some beast of i)rey,
455
ir.o
105
1)7
170
riioMKrilKVS 1 -Mi') I'M)
M,.^t tfrrihlt', l>i»t lovely, i)layea iK-iicath
Tlu; frown of man ; an.l toittiit'd to Ins will
Iron iin.l -..1.1. tli.- sl;iv.-s an.l si-ns of pow.T,
Anil L^fMis an.l poi-^'-iis, ami all snl.tl.st foinis
111, Men lienratli tli.' nionntains and tin' waves.
Ilr Liavi- man sp.-. cii, ami spctcli cix'ate.l tlioui;lit, 175
Wlii.'h is tlu! ni.MSKr.' of tin- nnivcrse ;
Ami Scicn.'.' stnu'k tli.' throm-s of earth an.l licavcn,
Which shook. l«nt fell not ; an.l the haini<.ni.)ns mind
rour.'d its.lf f.nth in all-inoi.h.'ti.' soul;;
An.l nmsie lift.-.l up the list.Miin- spirit ^SO
I'ntil it walked exemi)t fr.iin mortal eare,
(io.llik.', o'er the elear l.illows of sweet so', d ;
An.l human han.ls first mimieked and then mocked,
With moul.le.l lind>s more lovely than its own.
The human form, till marhle <,new divin.', 1S5
And m..thers, <;azing, drank the l.)ve m.:. see
KeHeeted in their ra.-e, hehol.l, and p.-rish.
He told the hidden power of herbs and sprinjrs,
\nd Disease drank and slept. Death grew like sleep.
He tauj^ht the implicated orbits woven HM)
Of the wi.le-wanderint? stars ; and how the sun
(:hani;es his lair, and by what secret spell
The pale moon is tiansformed, when her broad eye
(iazes not on the interlunar sea.
He tan-ht t.. rule, as lif.' .lin'Cts the limbs, 4nr,
. The tempest-win;j;e.l chariots of the Oci-an.
And the Celt knew the Indian. Cities then
Were built, and through their sn.w-like columns
fl.)vved
The warm winds, and the azure ether shone,
An.l the blue sea and shadowy hills were seen
c:..<.u flw. ..llovJntions of his state,
Prometheus gave to man, for which he Uaugs
500
i:
98
riKtMETIIF.l s r.xnor.M)
Witlicrincj in dcstiiicd p:iin : l)nt, wlio rains down
Kvil, tlic imnit'dicablo ])lai;no, ■ "licii, wliilc
M:iii looks on liis ci'cation !■
And sees tliat it is ijlorioiis.
iod
i hini on.
'I'lic wi-cck of ids own will, th . orn of earth,
Tin; outcast, tlie abandoni'd. tli(> aloni! ?
\ot Jove: while yot his frown shook heaven, ay, when
His adversary fi-oni a(himantine chains 510
Cnrsed him, he trend)hd like :i slave. Dechire
Who is his master? Is he too a slave?
DKMO(;oi:(io.v
All spirits are enslaved whieh serve things evil:
Thon knowest if Jnpiter he sneh or no.
Asia
Whom calledst thon God r
I sjmke but as ye speak,
ior Jove is the supreme of living things. 51G
Asia
Who is muster of the slave ?
DEMUGOK(iOX
If the abysm
Conld vondt forth his secrets. . . . iint u voice
Is wanting, the deep truth is imageless :
For what would it avail to bid thee gaze 520
On the revidvin-r world'.' what to bid speak
Fate, Time, Occasion, C'iiance, and ( 'iiang" ? To these
All things are subject but eternal Lovt.
rnoMETiiErs uxnnrND 99
Asia
S » tmu'li I iisked before, and my lu-art trave
'IMir ifsponsc thou hast ijivcn : and of sucli truths 525
I'^ach to itself lunst be the oiach".
( )nr MU)re demand ; and do thou answei- me
As niv own soul would answer, did it know
That which I ask. rrometh"us shall arise
lleneeforth the sun of this rejoieinu' world: 5rs0
"When shall the destined hour arrive?
DEMO(iOKCiON
Asia
Behold!
The roeks are cloven, and through the i^urple night
I s( ' cars diawn l>y rainl)ow-win<j;ed steeds
Which tranii»le the dim winds: in each there stands
A wild-eyed cliarioteer urginu their iliyht. 535
Some look behind, as fiends pursue them there,
And yet 1 see no shape, but the keen stars:
Others, with burning; eyes, lean forth, and drink
With eaoer lins the wind of their own speed,
As if the thinj,' they loved Hed on before,
And now. even now, they (dasped it. Their bright locks
Stream like a comet's Hashing hair: they all
Sweep onward.
Dkmooorgox
These are the immortal Hours,
Of whom thou didst demand. One waits for thee.
540
Asia
545
A spirit with a drcadfid countenance
C'hccks its dark (diariot by the craggy gulf.
Unlike thy brethren, ghastly charioteer,
Who art tiiou ? Wliither wouidst thou bear me? Speak!
^, i
100
riiOMETIIFA'H UN HOUND
I i
Sl'lK'T
I ;iiii the slirulow of a destiiiy
Moiv (liv;i(l tlian is my Ms])cct : ere yoji ))lant't r,r^)
lias set, tliu (lai-kiicss uliich ascends witli me
81.all wrap in lasting- niui.t 1 haven's kin-ioss throne.
Wliat meanest thou?
Asi
ilA
P.VXTUKA
f hat terrible shadow floats
Uj) from its tlironc, as may the lurid sn\o!-.-
Of eartJKjuake-ruined cities o'er the sea. 555
Lo! it ascends the car ; tlie coursers Hy
Terrified : watch its ])ath among the stars
Blackening the night I
Asia
Thus I am answered • strange !
rVNTIIKA
See, near the verj^e, another chariot stays ;
An ivory shell iidaid with crimson fire, 5gO
Whi<'h comes and goes within its sculptured rim
()f delicate strange tracery: the young spirit
That guides it lias the dove-like eyes of hope ;
How its sofi smiles attra.'t the soul! as light
Lures winged insects through the lampless air. 5G5
Si 'IK IT
My coursers ar(> fed with Mie liuhtuing.
They drink of the wliii'iwiiKi's stream.
And when the re(^ morning is luight'nin"-,
They bathe in th.- fresh sunbeam ;
They have strength for tlieir swiftness I ^'..era, ."JTO
Then ascend with me, daughter of ( )cean.
\ \
/•;.' OMETIIEUS UN 11 UNI)
101
I desire: and their spofd makes iii<;lit kindle ;
I fear: they outstrip the typhoon;
Ere the eloiid ])iled on Atlas can dwindle
\\'i' encircle the earth and tlie moon : 575
We sh:dl rest from lonj;- lahonrs at noon :
Then ascend with me, danghter of Ocean.
ScKNK V. 77".' Car jvnism irifhht a Cloud o?) ilic Top nf
(I s)io>ri/ Mountain. Asia. rAMUKA, ami the Si'IKIT of
TlIK lIoLK.
SriKiT
On the hrink of the ni;jht and the morning
My coursers are wont to resjjire ;
But the Earth has just whispered a warning
Tliat their fli^•ht nuist he swifter tlian lire :
They shall drink the hot speed of desire!
Asia
Thou hreathest on their nostrils, hut my breath
Would give them swifter speed.
Sri KIT
580
1 *
1:1
Alas ! it could not.
!i I
:l;.:l
Pantiiea
O Spirit! pause, and tell whence is the li^ht
Which tills the cloud? The sun is yet unrisen.
Sl'IUIT
The sun will rise not until noon. A])ollo
Is held in heaven by wonder; and the light
Which fdls this vapour, as the aerial hue
Of fcnmtain-gnzing roses fills the water,
Flows from thy mighty sister.
585
5'.)0
t i '
102
I'llOMETIIKT-s vynovsh
I*ANT1I1.A
Asia
Ye<, I feci —
r)9-.
GOU
\Vli;u is it with ilire, sisUT? Tlioii arf pale.
I'antiika
How tl.ou art clian-c] \ I ,lai n,.t look „n thee;
I f»vl l)iit sre tlieu not. I scarce en-luro
Til., ra.lia.u-e ..f thy hoaiity. -^ouio -oo.l cliaix.,.
Is workini.- in tlie I'lcnicnts, wliid, suit
Tliy prosonce thus unvMhnl. The Nereids tell
That (Ml the (lay whm the rlear hvaline
Was cloven at thy uprise, an,' tlioa di.lst .stand
U ithm a veined shell. \vh h iloated on
Over the calm floor of f';,; crvstal sea,
Anion- the .K-ean isle>. and l.y im; sVores
A\ hich hear thy name ; lov,% L,,e the atmosjihere
Of the sun's fire iiUin- the liviii- world,
liurst from thee, and illumined ('arth and heaven 005
And the deep ocean and the sunless cav,.s.
And all that duells within them ; till grief cast
Jvdipse upon the soul from which it c;nne.
Such art thou now ; nor is it I alone.
Thy sister, thy companion, thine own chosen one, 010
l..it the wh.de world which seeks thv svmpathy.
ll.'a.vst thou n..t s,mn.ls i' the air wliicli peak the loxe
<)i all articulat.. Immuos'/ Fcle^t thou not
'ilie inanimate wiiuls en;imoiiied ,)f thee / List!
\_Music.
Asi \
T hy words are sweeter than an-ht else l.ut his G15
^Miose e.'ho..s th.-y are: yet ail love is sweet,
<Hv.-n or return.'d. Common as li^lit is love,'
And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
103
620
i-iioMKTiiKis rsitorM)
Like tlie wi.le heaven, the all-sustaining air,
'1 makfs the rel)tile <Miual to the (i.xl :
111. V who inspire it most are fortunate,
A - i am now : hut those who ferl it most
\r. hapjtier still, after loni;- sufferings,
As 1 shall soon l)e(!ome.
Pa NTH K A
List ! Spirits speak.
Voicr. in the air, sin'/ing.
Life of Life! thy lips enkindle ^25
With their love the breath between them ;
And thy smiles before they dwindle
Make the eold air fire ; then sereen them
In those looks, where whoso gazes
Faints, entangled in their mazes. 630
■;i
fn ,-:
\
i
'J.'
Child of Light : thy limbs are burning
Through the vest whieh seems to hide them ;
As the radiant lines of morning
Through the elouds ere they divide them ;
And this atmosphere divinest 035
Shrouds thee wheresoe"er thou shinest.
Fair are others: mnw beholds thee.
Hut thv voice sounds low ami tender
Like the fairest: for it folds thee
From the sigh^ that liquid splendour,
And all fi'el, yet see thee never,
As 1 feel now, lost for ever!
Lamp of Earth ! where'er thou movcst
Its dim shapes an elad with brightness,
010
I,
104 PliOMKTIIEUS r.\ll(,['X»
And the souls of whom thou lovcst
^^ W:ilU upon the win. Is witli lightness,
Till thry fail, as I aMi failin--,
Dizzy, lost, yet uulicwailini;- 1
Asia
My soul is an ent-hantecl hoat,
^ ^\ iiich, lilvo a slcepini; swan, doth float
Upon th.. silver waves of thy sweet singing;
And thine doth liUe an angel sit
]?eside the lielni eonduetinii- ir,
AVhilst all the win.Is with melody a,v ringing.
It seems to float ever, for ever,
1 pon that many-winding river
Jk-tween mountains, woods, abysses,
A paradise of wildernesses !
Till, like one in slumhi'r bound,
]V)rne to the ocean, I Hoat down, around,
Into a sea pr.^found, of ever-spreading sound.
. Meanwhile thy sj)irit lifts its pinions
In music's most serene dnuiinions ;
Catehing the winds that fan that hai'.py heaven.
And we sail on, away, afar,
^^ ithout a eourse, without a star.
But by the instinct of swe.4 mnsie driven ;
Till through Klysian garden-islets
Hy thee, most l)eautiful <.f pilots.
Where never mortal pinnace glided.
The l)oat of my desire is guided :
Heabns where the air we breathe is love,
Whicli in the winds and on the waves doth move
Harmonizing this earth with what we feel above '
G15
Gr>{)
G'i5
660
i
GG5
070
'
I'UOMKTiiKfs rxiiorxD
Wo 1
iav(> piisst
.1 A-
<> s lev caves,
And Manhood's dark and tossinjj; waves,
And Vmiiirs siiioulli oci-an, sniilin" to hrtray
t'Vond tilt' "la-isv "nils \si
Of sliado\v-|ifi)|ilcd Inlancv,
II
ce
105
075
Tliiini.^li I)t;atli and I>ii'tli, to a divinei- day : GSO
A ])aradis(' of vaidttul howers
Lit, liy do\vn\vard-i;a/,ini; tiowei's,
And watfiv |»atlis that wind between
Wildernesses ealni and j^reen,
I'copled l)y shapes too bright to s(>e, 085
And rest, haviiii^ helield : soniewliat like thee:
Which walk upon the sea, and ehaunt melodiously !
ACT III
ScEXK I. — Henvni. JrrrrKU o7i hh Throne; Thetis
and the otJicr JJeities assemldid.
.Iri'HKK
Ye conp[reg;ated powers of heaven, who sliare
The <rlorv and tiie strenuth of him ve serve,
Jvejoiee! lietieefortli I am omnipotent.
All else had l)een snhdned to me; alone
The sonl of man. like niiextinu:nished fire.
Yet burns towards heaven with fierce reproach,
and doubt.
And lamentatioM, and reluctant juayer,
llurlin<i' up insurrection, whi(di niinht make
Our anti(pu! enij)ire insecure, thon^jfh built
On eldest faith, and hell's coeval, fear;
And thouii'h mv curses through the ])«!ndidons air,
liike snow on herbless peaks, fall flake by flake.
And elin;;^ to it; thonyh undei' my wrath's nij^ht
10
m\ i
rnnMKTUFJ's r.v/.'or.v/*
••nij;- iif life, stcj) Mftcr step
lOf)
It I'liiiil) ill
A\'liir|i \u)i,n,| it. as wv wnmul. ims:iii.lalk"(l f.-ct, IT.
It \i'I irliulilis .Sll|i|flllc ((■(■!■ Illi-,cl\.
A>|,iiiiiLr. uiiiepri'ssfd, yt-t su-xi to fall :
Kviii II, ,u liav.. I lic-oticii a stiaii-v wonder,
Tint fatal cliiM, th,. i.-nor of tlic cartli,
^\"lio \v;iits l.ut till thf <l'.'sfiii(..| lioiir arrive, 20
Jicariiij,^ li'oiii I)i'iiioL;i)i'Lroirs vacant tliroue
'i'he dreadful nii^lit ,)f ever-living lind.s
Wliich (dotlied tlKit awful spirit nnheheld,
'lo ndi'seend, and trample out the spark.
P"nr fortli heav.Mi's wijie, Ida'aii (Janvmede, 25
And let it till the diedal eiips like firj,
And from the flower-inwoven soil divine
"i e all-trinniphant harmonies arise,
As dew from earth under the twilight stars:
])rink: he the lu'ctar eii-elin,LC throunh y„ur veins ;iO
The soul of joy, ye ever-living^ Gods,
Till exultation hurst in one wide voice
Like lansie from Klysian winds.
And thoii
Ascend heside nu', veiled in the li-ht
Of the desire which makes thee one with me, .35
Thetis, hrio-ht inianc of deinitv I
AVheu thou didst cry, •• Iiisutferahle mi-ht !
(i'.d: spare me! 1 Mistain not th.' .piick iiames,
'ihe jicnetratin^ presence: all my lu-in-.
Like him whom the Nunndi;in seps did thaw -lo
Into a (hnv with poison, is dissolved.
Sinking- throui;h its foundations: " even then
Two nu-hty spirits, min-lin-. made a third
Mi.-htier than either whicdi, uni>odied now,
Between us Hoats, felt, although nnheheld, 45
ri:()yfi:Tni:t .^ imkum)
Waitiii'^ tlu' iiicariijitioii. uli'u-li ;is<'t'ii(ls,
107
If vc
the tlniiKlcr of tlir liirv wlicfls
(iliiiill'^ tllf Winil-i.' ) llnlii 1 )iliiii^'iil ^"li > ililnlil'.
N'litiiiv! victorv! I'ffr>t tli<iu iu)t.() world,
'I'lic i';irtii(iu:iliL' o|' liis cliaiiot tliiiiHiiTiiiu- up •">()
( )1\ iiipus?
[^T/f Cur iij' f/tr Will \: nrriri's. I)i;Mo<ioK-
(in\ i/isri'iii/s, iiinl /iini'is (mrdrils tliP
Thriiif I'J' .\ WW VM.
Awful sliapc, what art tliou? Si>('ak I
I)i:Mo<i()i;i;oN"
Ktornity. Deinaiul no direr name!
Descend, and follow me down tlu; abyss!
1 am thy ehild, a.s thou wert Saturn's child ;
Mi,i;htior than ihee : and we mu>r dwell toj^ether T)")
lleiuMjforth in darkness. Lift thy liuhtnings not!
The tvranny of heaven none may letain,
Or reassnine, or hold, succeeding thee:
"^'et, if thou wilt, as 'tis the destiny
Of trochlen worms to writhe till they are dead,
Put forth thy might!
.Il TirKK
Detested prodigy !
F.ven thus beneath the det'p Titanian prisons
I trample thee! TIkhi lingerest?
Mercy ! mercy !
No pity, no release, no respite ! Oh,
That thou wouldst make mine enemy my jndge,
Kven where he hangs, seared by my long revenge,
On Caucasus! he would not doom me thus.
(lentU", and just, and dreadless, is he not
The monarch of the world ? What then art thou?
No refuge! no appeal !
GO
f.,")
m
TV
108
\Vc i
i-h'OMirniKis r.v/.or.v
/>
Milk with IMC then
uo will siiilc on the uiM
70
• ' \v;ivt'
"< "I nun.
.vni ,1, ;i \ nil |,,f :ii|,|
I)
;i •^n;
'•"1>. IwiMrd in incxtiical.l,. tj^ht
Cf mil -jH lit
lO
80
Int.. :i shc.ivh.^s sra. Lrt h.ll nnh.rlc
In nioninlfd oc-ans n{ t.-mpist nous liiv.
And uIh-Iiii on tlicin into the hottonih-ss void
This desolated woil.j, and tliee. and ine.
Tin- eon.,neror and th.. eon.ineiv.I, an.l tlie wreck
<>t that for wliieh tliey conihated ]
TI 1 , ' -^'' •^''
I lit! fienn'nts oi.ey rnc not. I sink
I>i//.ily down, ever, for ever, down.
And, like a elond, mine enemy alxtvo
Darkens my fall witli victory! Ai ! Ai !
S,KNK U.-n.Moufh of a ,jrrat Ulrc.r In the Is/and
Afl,n,ns. O. KAN- ;.s ,/;sr.rn-r,/ rrrluunrj near the
bhoir ; Al'oLLu stands hrs!,lc him.
C)(i;av
Ile fell, thou sayest, l.en,.-ath his conqueror's frown?
Ai-or.i.o
Ay, when the strife was en.I.Ml which made dim s:.
. I I'c orh I rnle, and shook the solid stars.
The terrors of his eye illumined heawn '
AMth san,,n.ine li^ht. thron.^h the thick ra-ed skirts
yn tile victorious darkness, as he fell :
Like the. last -la re of day's red a -on v. rjc
^^ hieh. from a rent anum- the fiery clouds,
liunis far alon- the tempest-wrinkled deep.
0< KAV
He sunk to the ahyss'^ to the dark void?
ruoMKTiiF.i's r\i:(>i m>
Ait'i.i.ii
An f:iL;l(' so can^lit in '^ciuf lmi'8tiii<^ cloiul
lou
l.:ini.
( )ii ( .(iii';i>ii>. lii^ tliiiii .■!• lt;ittlril \viiii;s '.»,>
I'.ntim^lcil 111 till' wliii Iw iiiil. ;iiiil lii> cyt'S
W liicli ^:i/.»'(l (HI till' un(l.i//liiiL; smi. ikiw l)liii(l('<l
I'lV tin- uliitc liulituiuL:, wliili' the |Miinlfi(»iis luiil
lirat^ on liis st ni;:i:liin; form, wiiicli sinks at h'iii;tli
I'loiie, iiiul the al'iial Icl' I'liiiirs over it. H)()
lo,-
110
()( i: \\
Il.'iicffortli tlu> fiflds of I |cavt'ii-r<'fl('<'tin<,' soa
W liirli arc iiiv realm, will lieave, un■^taine(l with hlood,
Keiieath the ujiiiftinix winds. like plains of corn
Swaved l)V the snmmei- air: my streams will How
Ivountl iuanv-|)en])li(l continents, and roiinil
l''()rtiin:ite isles; and from tlieii' ;^lassy thrones
liiiie I'rotens and his hnmid nym|ihs shall mark
The shadow of fair ships, as mortals see
The lloatini; hark of the lii^ht-laden moon
Witli that white star, its si^^htless jiilot's erest,
I)oiMie down tin; rajiid sunset's clihiiii;- sea;
Tiaekinj; their path no more hy hlood and groans,
And desolation, and tlie mingled voice
Of slavery and enmmand : hut hy the liuht
Of wave-reHeeted tloweis. and floatinu odours,
And music soft, and mild. free, p'nth' voices,
That sweetest music, such as spiiits love.
Ai'oi.r.o
\nd I sliall iraze not on the deeds which make
Mv mind ohseui'c with sorrow, as eeli]ise
Darkens the sjihere I _<,Miide : hut list, I hear 1-0
The small, clear, silver lute of the younjj Spirit
That sits i' the morning star.
ii;
\\
M
MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART
ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No 2i
1.0
I.I
1.25
12.8
13.2
m
■ 4.0
1.4
[ 2.5
2.2
2.0
1.8
1.6
^ APPLIED IM^GE Inc
165J Eosr Mam street
Rochester, Ne« York U609 uSA
(716) 482 - OJOO - Phone
(7161 ?8R - Sq89 - Fav
no
IM
piiOMEriiErs rxiiorxn
()< KAX
] 25
Thou must awav;
Ihy steeds V ill Mause at evo.i. till wl,rn fareudl:
Iho loud d.;,p calls uw h,„ue even now to feed it
W ith azure calm out of the emerald uiiis
Which stan.l for ever full beside mv throne.
JJehold the Nereids under the <,neen\ea,
Their wavering lind)s borne on"the wind-like stream
1 he.r white arn.s lifted o'er their streaming hair '
N ith -arlands i)ied and stai'ry sea-llower crowns, 130
iiastenmg to grace their mi-hty sister's joy.
. [-' *■""""' <'/ (races is heard.
Jt IS tiio uupastured sea hungering for calm.
Peace, monster ; I come now. Farewell.
Al'OI,LO
Farewell.
ScK.vi: Iir._rv,/r-.,,s;,.,. PitOMKTurt-s. IlKKrrr.Fs Ionk
the Kakth. Sp.kits, Asia, and I^vntuica, borne in the
tar ivifh the Si'irit ok tiik IIofk.
IIekcitles unhinds PjioMirruKis. n- ho descends.
IIi:U( L'LKS
M. St glorious among sj)irits: thus doth strength
r.) wisdom, courage, and long-suffering love, '^ 13.5
Aiul thee, who art tiie form they animate,
Minister like a slave.
t
PliOMKTliKr-s
Tliy gentle words
Are sweeter oven than freedom long desired
-iiid long delayed.
Asia, thou light of life.
Shadow .)f beauty unbeheld ; and ye, hq
I'ROMETUFA'.^ I WliOlW I)
111
un
11-
Fair sistor nyin))hs, \v!.o luadu loiii; years of p
Sweet to reinetul)('r, tlirongh your love and care
llciict'fortli wu will not part. There is a cave,
All overgrown with trailinj^ odorous plants
Which enrtain out the day with leaves and flowers,
And paved with veined emerald, and u fountain
Leaps in the nndst with an awakening sound.
From its curved roof the niountain's frozen tears,
Like snow, or silver, or long diamond spires,
Han"- downward, raining forth a (hjuhtful light: 150
And there is heard the ever-moving air,
Wliispering without from tree to tree, and birds,
And l)ees: and all around are mossy seats.
And the rough walls are clothed with long soft grass;
A simi)le dwidling, which shall lu' our own ; 155
AVhere we will sit and talk of time and change.
As the world ehhs and flows, ourselves unchanged.
What can hide man from mutahility?
And if ye sigh, tlien I will smile : and thou,
lone, shalt ehaunt fragments of sea-music, 160
Until I weep, when ye shall smile away
Tlie tears she brought, which yet were sweet to shed.
AVe will entangle buds and lloweis and beams
Which twinkle on the fountain's brim, and make
Stransre combinations out of common things, 1G5
Like human bal»es in their lirief innocence:
And we will searcdi, with looks and words of love,
Foi' hidden thoughts each lovelier than the last,
'.)ur unexhausted spirits: and like lutes
Fouched by the skill of the eni'.moured wind, 170
Weave harmonies divine, yet ever new,
From difference sweet where discord cannot be;
And hithei' come, sped on the charnKvi winds
W'!,!;.!; t!!..(.f fi-oni :J1 the iioiLits ol lieaven, as bees
t' !
I 1
112
PliOMETIlECS VMiOUXl)
\\<'
'lit
•1 I -l '
ISO
Yrom ov.Mv flowor aerial Kiina feeds, 175
At tlicir own island-lioincs in llimera,
Tlie cclioes of the hutiian woiM. wliieli tell
Of tlic low voice of love, almost unlieanl.
An. I .iove-eye.l pity's inunnnred ])ain, and music,
Itsi'jt the echo of the heai't, and all
'J hat temj)ers or imjjroves man's life, now free;
And lovely ai)])aritions, dim at first.
Then radiant, as the mind, arising- Ijiioht
From the embrace of beauty, whence the forms
Of which these are the i)hantoms, easts on them 185
The gathered rays which are realitv,
^hall visit us, the progeny immortal
Of Painting, Sculpture, and rapt Poesy,
And arts, thougji unimagined, yet to be.
'1 he wandering voices and the shadows these 100
Of all that man becomes, the mediators
Of that best worship, love, l)y him and us
Given and returned ; swift shapes and sounds, which
g^row
More fair and soft as man grows wise and kind.
And, veil by veil, evil and error fall: 195
J^uch virtue has th<> cave and ])lace ;uound.
[Tl/ruu,;/ in ill,' SlTUlT OF THE IIoUK.
For thee, fair Spirit, one toil remains. Tone.
(iivc her that curved shell, which Proteus old
Made Asia's nuptial boon, breathing within it
A voice to be acc..mplislicd. ami which thou 200
Didst hide in grass under the hollow rock.
IdN'K
Thou mo^t desired TTour, m..rc lov.'d and lovely
Tiian all thy sisters, this [is] the my.stic shell.
bee the j)ale azure fadintr into silver
riiOMETHEUs iwnoryi) 11<'5
l.iiiinj: it w'itli a soft yet j;lo\vin<j: lii^lit : '-<)')
Looks it not liUt' lulled music sltH'i»ing there?
Sl'IKIT
II sceius in truth tlie faii'fst shell of Ocean:
lis sound must lit; at once botli sweet and strange.
PKOMKTHK.rS
(to. home over the cities of niankind
Oil whirlwind-footed coursers: once aii^aiu 210
Outspeed the sun around the orbed world ;
And as thy chariot cleavtis the kindling; air,
Thou breathe into the many-folded shell,
I>oosenin<;' its ndiihty music: it shall be
As thunder mingled with clear echoes: then 1'15
Return ; and thou shalt dwell beside our cave.
And thou, O Mother Earth! —
Thk Earth
I hear, I feel ;
Thy lips are on mo, and thy touch runs down
Even, to the a<lamantine central gloom
Along these marble nerves : 't is life, 't is joy, 220
And through my withere.l, old, and icy frame
The warmth of an immortal youtli shoots down
Cindinii'. Henceforth the many children fair
Folded in my sustaining arms : all ])lants,
And creeping forms, and insects rainbow-winged, 225
And birds, and beasts, and fish, and human shai)es.
Which drew disease and pain from my wan bosom,
Draining the jjoison of despair, shall take
And interchange sweet nutriment; to me
JSiiaii they become like blsLei-uiiteiopca 230
■ ■ '
'i 1
■
IM
»■ V I
/'
in I
)\
lU
I'liOMETHFA-s r.\r,oi-\i)
2.1;
210
Hyoiir fair dam, siK.w-wiiitc and swift as wind,
Aiirsrd amoii-- lilies uvav :i hiinuuiun stream.
1 I. ■ drw-iiiistN of my siinlcss sleep shall float
I'nder ilie siai. like l,;,Im: niulit-folde,: flowers
Shall sink iiiiuithoring- Imes in tiieir repose:
And men and beasts in happy dreams shall <,rather
Streii-th for the croniino- day, and all its joy :
Ami deatii shall he the lastVmhrace of her
\\ ho takes the life she oav,., even as a mother,
I'oldmi;- hvv ejiild, says, " Leave me not a-ain I "
Asia
() mother: wherefore sp.-ak the name of death?
Cease they to love, a:id move, and breathe, and speak,
>\ ho die?
TiiK EAiiTir
It woidd avail not to reply:
Thou art inunortal, ami this ton-ue is known
lint to the uueommnnieatini; dead.
iX'ath is the veil which those who live call life:
They sh'ep, and it is lifted : and meanwhile
In mihl variety the seasons mild
Vv'ith rainl).)\v-skirted showers, and odorous winds,
And Ion- blue niete(-rs eleansin- the dull ni-ht, '250
And the life-kindlino' shafts of the keen snn'^s
Al]-i)ierein^i;- bow, and the dew-min.i;led rain
Of the ealm moonbeams, a soft inibienee mild,
Shall clothe the forests and the fiehis, ay, even
The erao-built deserts of the barren deep, 2','.
AVith ever-livin- leaves, and fruits, and flowers.
And thou : 'i'iiere is a cavern where my spirit
Was pante.l forth in anouish whilst thy pain
Made my heart mad, and those who did inhale it
IJecanie neu] f,w. ..,.,1 I,,.;it ..
245
1 .1
-"iiipiu Liiuie,
260
V ROM KTIl FA'S T.V liOUXI)
11.
1?,:
10
k,
50
And sjxikf, and wcic oracular, and Inrod
'1 lie cniiii;- nations round to mutual war.
And failldr.^s tait li, .su(di as dove kept with tlieo
ne
W
\ violet
)rt atli now rise
as aiKonLis
t tall
weeds
s ex
halat
ion, and it tills
•jr.-)
itli a sereiier imlit and enmson air.
Intense, vet sott, tlie rueks and woods around
It f(
th
(M'ds tlie (juii'k i;r()wtn ot tlie serpent vine,
And the dark linked ivy tanii,lin<^ wild.
And huddiiii^-, blown, or odoni'-faded l)loonis 270
W'iiich star the winds with jioints of coloured light,
As tlu;v rain throu'di them ; and l)ri''ht jrolden tilobos
Of fruit, suspended in their own green heaven ;
And through their veiin^d leaves and ami)er stems
'I'lie llouers wliose purple and translueid bowls 275
Stand ever mantling with aerial dew,
'1 he drink of sj»irits: and it circles round,
Like the soft waving winirs of noondav dreams.
Inspiring calm and ha)>])y thoughts, like mine,
iS'ow thou art thus restored. This cave is thine. 2S0
Arise! A])])ear!
\_A SriKiT /'/.s't'.s- 1)1 the likeness of a minr/ed child.
This is my torch-bearer ;
Who let his lamp out in old time with gazing
On eyes from which he kindled it anew
^Vith love, which is as lire, sweet daughter mine.
For such is that within thine own. Run, wayward, 2S5
And guide this (!om])any beyond the peak
Of l)ac(diic Nysa, Mienad-haunted mountain,
And beyond Indus and its tribute rivers,
Tiampling the torrent streams and glassy lakes
A\'ith feet unwet, unwearied, undelaying, 290
And up tlu! green ravine, across the vale,
Jieside the windless and crystalline pool
IK)
PliOMETlIKr- IWIIOISI)
h
H
\V licrc ever lies on unerasing w.-ivtvs
Tlic iiiia-c of a tt'iiiplc, i)iiilt, altovc,
Distinct witl. colli,,,,., arcl,, aii.l arcl,it,-avo, •j..».i
And |»alr„-lii<(. capital, and ovci\v,'oiiol,t
AikI populous i,,ost witl, livi,,..- iiiiai;r,-v,
I'laxitclcan shapes, \vli,,so ,,i;ifl,],. s,,,ilrs
I'lll the hiislicl ail- uiti, cvcrhistiri-j; love.
It is (Icsci-tcl now, hut once it hore ;}oo
Thy nan,,, Pro„,cthru. ; there the onmlons youths
Pjore to thy lionour through the divine <;h)om
The lanip \vl,ich was thi!,e einblen, : even as those
AVlio hear tlie untransmitted torch of hope
Into the -rave, across the nijiht of life, sof,
As thou hast home it most tri,nni»l,antly
To this far .i^oal of Time. Depart, fan-well.
]>eside that temple is the d.-stini-d cave.
ScKVK IV._../ F„resf. In the DnrhqmuiuJ a Cave
PKoM,.:TiiKirs. Asia, P.v.ntuk.v, Iox,,, and the Spiuit
OF TiiK Kakth.
loXK
Sister, it is not earthly: how it n;lides
Under the leaves! how on its lieml there burns 310
A lio-ht, like a <,rreen stai-, wliose emei-ald beams
Are twined with its fair hair! how. as it moves,
The splendour drops in flakes uj),)!! the grass! '
Knowest thou it?
P-ANTHEA
It is the delicate spirit
That o-uides the earth throu-h heaven. From afar 315
1 he })op,doiis constellations call that liLrlit
The loveliest of the idanets; and sometimes
It floats aloni,'- the spray of the salt sea,
Or mrikon lis chariot of a to<>-t;v eioiui
rnOMKTUFA'S I '.V llOl S I)
117
( »r wallvs tlu()iii,'li fields or cities wliilc iiicii slci'j), ;5:i(>
( )\- o'er tlic iii()iiiitain-t(>]»s. or down tlic rivers,
<)i- fliroii'4ii the i;reeii waste wildeiiiess, a> now.
mdenii'.
at all it sees.
I x'lore Jove rei^nec
I
j't loved our si>ti'r Asia, and it came
Ilaeli leisure hour to diiidc tlie li(|nid liulit
()iit of her eyes, for which it said it thirsted
,\s one hit hy a dii)sas, and with her
It inado Its eluldisli coiifKUfHce, and told lier
All it had known or seen, for it saw nuieli.
Yet idly reasoned wliat it saw : and called her.
For wlienco it s])riinj^ it knew not, nor do I,
Mother, dear mother.
Thk Si'iiiiT OK THE Eaktm {ruiiiiiii'i in Asia)
Mother, dearest mother;
May I then talk with thee as I was wont?
^fay I then hide my eyes in thy soft arms,
After thy h)ohs have made them tired of joy?
May I then ))lay heside tliee the lon<;- noons,
^Vhen work is none in the l>rii;ht silent air?
Asia
I love iliee, gentlest being, and henceforth
Can cherish thee nnenvied : sjieak, I ]iray :
Thy simple talk once solaced, now delights.
;i3U
33;
340
vSi'IRIT OF THK EaKTII
Mother, I am grown wiser, thongh a child
Cannot he wise like thee, within this day ;
And happier too: iiajtpier and wiser hoth.
Thou knowest that toads, and snakes, and loathly
worms,
j'vnii venomous ami iiiaiieioiis iiiri-'rs, rniii MOiigiiS ■; i;i
I ' ■'
I I'
118
Tint
:'n<>Mi:rui:(s r\n<>r.\h
.'{.-(I
Aulnml,,.,.,... „., nyualk^uVr. I,.. ,■,.,...„ worl.l •
An,i iI.a,,aMiun_^tlu. l.anntsofhnM.ankin.l
anl-h.atun..l MM.M, or xvith ,>n„.,K a,„,Ho„ks,
'• '-M, sta.,1 ;;ait, or tal... au.l hnll.nv smil.s,
'>''^l"-'l"llsi...Tofs..lf-Jov...l i:;nora,nv
'/''•'^''^^f '^''■■'•••".i^uluMuw.. spirits rail, „an-
-^■"1 u-o,n..n too, „,i;li,.>t of all tliin-s rvil
(lI..'U,I.tair..v..ninauo,l,lwl..;;.t,,,;,,,tf,i,.,,,
l-.|,^oodaM, knuLtV...,,,,sin....n.lik..thec.,)
) iH.n fals.. o,. f,,,u„in, ,,...1,. ,...■ si.k at lu.art
-; p:.sstI,..M,. though tl„.ysl..,,t,a>Hl I nusec-n.
\.'lKn,y path lardy lay tluou,h a. M-e.t city
Into the u-oo.ly lulls surn.mulin..- it:
A s..ntincl was sle.'pin- at the -ate •
^MK•u there was lu.anl a soun.C so loml it sl.on
in. towers a.Mi.l the ..oonli^ht, vet n.ore swee
iiianaiiy von-e Lut thine, sw.-etest of all •
A lon.i^r lon,,,r sonn.l, as it woMhl never emi:
An.l all the inhal.itants leapt sn.hlenly
O.itol the.r rest, an.l -athere.llM the streets,
3GU
ook
t
305
o
Ihe .nus.e pealed along. I hi.l n.vself ^
U ithm a tonntain in the public s.piare,
VN liero I lay like the reflex of the nn.ou
N'en m a wave under -reen leaves; ,-...-> ^-
Those u-ly human shapes and visa-'-..
37U
H uhu-., I spoke as having wrought n.e pafn,
1 ast floating through the air, and fadin-^ still 37
"to the winds that scattered then,: and those '
l"n,M, who,,.,hy,,..tsee,,.,.d,nilda,,dh,v,.|vro,.,,.s
All. ■.•son;,, tonl .lisgui... h,,I f,|i,,„, ,,„,, .,„ "
»V ere so,i!,'wliit ,.1... ..,..,. 1 .. i ,■ , . ..
""ui oriel sniprise
rUoMl.illECs I Mior.M)
119
And ;';rt'('tiiii;s ot (loli;^litc(l uoiitlcr, all
\\ lilt to tlifir slcfp aL;aiii : and wlicii tln' dauii
vault', woiddsl tiioii tliiid; tliat tciaiLs, ami ^llal;c.1, ami
efts,
Coidd c'lT Ix' Itcaiitifid' vet ^o tlirv wen-,
And that uitli linlf clianm' (d' slia] r line:
All tilings had [nit tht ir evil nature off: 3S5
I cannot tell niv joy, uhrn o'er a lal<<'
rpoii H di'oo[iiii;; ltoiii;li with iii^ht^hadc twined,
I >a\v two a/iui' haieynn~; cliii'^inL;' downward
And tiiinniiii; one li!ii;ht hnneh of uniher lieiiies.
With (jiii(dv Ioiil; Iteaks. and in the deep there lay ii'.'O
Those lovely tonus iniaL;ed as in a sky :
So with my thoughts full of tiiese happy ehanges,
We meet aj^ain, the happiest (■lianL;e of all.
A- 1 A
And never will we ])art, till thy ehaste sister
\\ ho guides the frozen and inconstant moon, 395
^^ ill look on thy more warm and e(pial lii;lit
Till her heart thaw like tlakes of A})ril snow,
And love thee.
Sl'IKIT OF THK EaKTII
What! as Asia loves Prometheus?
Asia
Peace, wanton, thou art yet n(;t old enough.
Think ye by gazin<^ on each other's eyes
To nudti|)ly your lovely selves, and fill
With sphered fires the interlunar air?
Sl'IlMT OK riiK Kakth
Nay, mother, while my sister tiiuis her lamp
i is hard I should "o darUiinjj.
400
II!
ii
H
^-^ i'i:<>Mi:iiii:rs rsnorsi)
Asia
Ijisti'ii; look!
['/'//'■ Sni;ii UK Till.; linvK rntcrs
l*i;i)Mi;riii:r«;
Wo l\.fl what tI...M !,ast l.rar.l an.l s.rn : yet speak ' ton
Sl'lKll' ()|- liii.; Iloi |.
Sn„n astli," s.)..n.l Iia.l .•.■asr.l ul,,,... iIuhuI.t iilled
liir alnss.vs ,,t th.- slvv and tli.' ui<lc .-ai'tl,,
Tlirie was a cliaii-c : tl„. im|,aI|MM.. thin air
Aii.l th." all-ciivlin- suiiii-ht wciv traii>fornM.,l,
As if th.' s..ns,> „f h,ve. .li.ss..|vr.l i,, thnu, ' 410
ll.id fohlfd its.'lf i-ouihI the splirn'.l world.
My vision th.-n -r.'w char, and I cnuld see
Into the niystcrics of the nniv.'i>,t'.
Di/zy as with (hdi.L;ht I Hoafrd ,|uwn,
Winnowino th. hV|.tso,ur air with languid phnnes, 115
My (...nrsers s„n-ht th.'ir l.irthplac,. in the sun,
A\ h(Mv they hrnceforth will liv exempt from toil,
i.istiinn.o; [on J flowers of vcovt;,!,],. n,,..
And when- my mooidihc car will stand within
A temple, oazed „pon l.y Phidiaii forms 4.0
Of thee, and Asia, and the Ivuth, and mo.
And you fair nymphs. lookiiiL; the love we feel;
In memory of the tidings it has horne;
Beneath a dome fretted with j,naven flowers,
Poised on twelve columns of resplend<.nt stJue, 4.«5
And open to the bright and liquid skv
1 <)Ked to It by an ainpliisl).'enie snake
The likeness of those winrred stee<ls will moek
The flight from wliieli they find repose. Alas,
A\ hither has wan.u'red now my partial tono-ue,' -|;{o
VVh.ii all remains untold which y.- would hear?
\^ 1 li;ivf s;ii(l, I tl(i;ii.u 1(1 ill. rartli :
It was, as if is still, tlit- pain of Itliss
I'u move, ti> l>rcatln'. tn lie, I uaiiili riiiLT went
IJl
A
iiioii<r tilt! Iiauiit^ and (iui'ljintrs of man
ikiiul.
i:{5
Ami first was ilisa|.|ioiiit<'(l not to sec
>iii'li ininlity fliaii^c as I liail f»'It witliin,
i'",\|tit'ss(,'(l ill outward tliiiii^s; l»ut soon I looked,
Uiii^l<
A lid Iti'liold, tliroiH'S were
< )iir with tin- otiicr cvfii as spirits do
<'ss, and nit.'ii wa
Iked
410
oil'
awiied, none tiaiiiidi'd
hate
(lis.l
im, Of lear
ft
Sidt love or stdf-contciiipl, on liiiinan lirows
No ni(»rt' iiiscriljed, as o'er the ;;ate of hidl,
" All hope ahandoi) ye who enter here ; "
None frowned, none trembled, none with ea<:er fear 115
(ia/i'd on another's eye of cold eominand,
Until the subject of a tyrant's will
Became, worse fate, the aliject of his own,
W liii'h spurred hiiii. like an oiitspcnt horse, to death.
Noni! wroiii^'ht his lips in tnith-entan^lini^ lines t.'iO
Which siiiilfd the lie his tongue disdained to speak;
None, with firm sneiM-. trod out in his own heait
The sparks of love and hope till there remained
Those l)itter ashes, a soul stdf-consumed.
And the wretch crept a vampire aiiion<;' men, 455
riifectinj:^ all with his own hidfous ill:
None talked that common, false, v''oId, hollow talk
Which makes the heart deny the i/cs it breathes,
Yet (piestion that unmeant hvpocrisy
With such a self-mistrust as has no name. 460
And women too, fraid<, beautiful, and kind
As the free heavi'ii wliieh i'aiiis fri .~li Ji^lit and dew
On the wide earth, past : i;eiitle. radiant forms,
!■ rom custom's evil taint exempt and pure;
Speaking the wisdom once tiicy I'onld nut tiiink, 4G5
122
/ 'liOMhTIIK I -s I -.V /; o [ y />
nil.
(I if
Lookiiii,^ ciiiotioiis once tlicy fearrd to fcol,
And cliange.l to all wliicli om.,; tlicv dareil not be,
Yei l)cing now, mad-; eartli like liuaven ; nor pride,
Xor jcahmsy, nor envy, nor iJI-slianie,
Ti)o hitti'rest of tliose drops of treasured <rall, ITC
8i)oilt ti;e sweet taste of the nepenthe, love.
Thronos,altar.s,judo-,nent-seats,and prisons, — wherein,
And beside wliit-h, by wretched mvu were borne
Sceptres, tiaras, swords, and cliaiiis, and tomes
(H- reasoned wron-, j;h)ze 1 on by i-norance, — .(75
^i ere like those inonstro.is and barbaric siiai)es,
The f,di()sts of a no-niore-reinembered fame,
Which from their unworn obelisks, l.,ok forth
In triumph .."cr tlie palaces and tombs
Of those who were their conquerors, nioulderin<r
round.
Those imaged, to the pride of kin-s and priests,
A u.nk yet nn'ghty faith, a ])ower as wide
As is the world it wasted, and are now
But an astonisluaeut. Kveu so the tools
And emblems of its last captivitv.
Amid the dw«>]Iiiios of tlic iJeopfed earth.
Stand, not oVrthrown, l)ut unregarded now:
And those foul shapes, abhorred by god and man,
A\ hich, under many a name and many a form,
Stranue, savage, ghastly, dark, and execrable, -KiU
U ere Jupiter, the tyrant of the world ;
Ami which the luitions, panic-stricken, served
With blood, and hearts broken by long hope, and
l(,ve
Dragged to his altars soiled and garlandless,
And slain among men's unreclaiming tears, i<tr,
Flattering the thing they feared, which fear u.-,. l,..f« 1
■1,S0
1S5
iTC
lU,
so
rnoMETiiEus uyiiOiWD
123
Frown, inonlderim^ fasl., o'er tlieir abaiidoiii'd shrines.
I'lie painted veil, hy tliose who were, ealh;d life,
Whieh niiniicked, as with colours idly s])read,
All men believe*! and hoped. i> torn aside; 500
The loaths(jnie mask has fallen, the man remains,
Sccptreless, free, uneircuni.scribed, l)nt man:
K(liial, unelassed, tribeless, and nationless,
Exempt from awe, worship, deij^ree, the kini^-
( )ver himself ; just, gentle, wise : but man. 505
Passionless? no, yet free from guilt or ])ain.
Which were, for his will made or sutTered them;
Nor yet exempt, thoui^h rulini;- them likt' slaves,
From chance, and death, and mutability,
The clogs of that which else might oversoar 510
Tlie loftiest star of unasoended heaven.
Pinnacled dim in the intense inane.
10
ACT IV
SrF.XK. — A part of tlie Forest near the Care of Pkomk-
TiiKi's. Paxtiika (Hid Ionk are dtej/lii'j : they aicaken
yraduallij dur'uirj the frsf S'nig.
VoiCK OF rNsKF.V Sim KITS
The pale stars are gone I
For the sun, their swift shepherd,
To their folds them comiH'lling,
In the de])tlis of the dawn,
Hastes, in meteor-eclipsing ai-ray, and they flee 5
Beyond his blue dwelling,
As fauns flee the leopard,
Hut wheie are ye ?
[J tniin of ihirk Fnniis and Shadows j/asses bij
ill
) I
/'
if
il
(
I i f
124 ^ I'UOMETiiEfs vsnousD
Here, oil. here :
AVo hear the hier
Of tlie Father of many a caiifellecl year I
Spectres we
Of the (lead Hours he,
"\\ e hear Tii:ie to his toiiih in eternity.
Sti'ew, oh, strew
Hair, not yew I
Wet tlie (histy pall witli tears, not clew!
IJe the faded tlowei's
Of Death's hare howers
Sl)read on the eorjjse of the Kin<r of Hours !
10
15
21
Haste, oil, haste !
As shades are chased,
Trenihlinn'. l>y day. from heaven's hlue waste,
Wt! melt awav,
Like dissolving;' sprav, 25
From tlie ehildren of a diviner day,
With the luilal)y
Of winds that die
On the bosom of their own liarniony !
loxK
What dark forms were they ?
Pa XT hi; A
The past Hours weak and ;;ray,
With the spoil which their toil
Kaked tof;;ether
From the conquest but One could foil.
30
TT.,
loN'K
00
rnoMETiiErs rxnorxD 125
Pa NTH K A
They have past ; 35
Tlioy oiitspeedod the blast,
AVliik' 't is said, tliey arc Hed :
AVliitlior, oil, whitlioi'?
Pantiika
To the dark, to the past, to the dead.
Voice of I'nskkx Spirits
Bright clouds Hoat in heaven, 40
I )('\v-stai's gk'ani on earth,
Waves assenihle on occ^an :
They are gathei'ed and driven
By the storm of delij,dit. by the ])anie of glee !
They shake with emotion, 45
Thev dance in their mirth.
But where are ye ?
The i)ine-bouohs are sincinfr
Old songs with new gladness,
The billows and fountains 50
Fresh music are Hinuiuir,
Like the notes of a s])irit from land and from sea;
The storms mock the mountains
AA ith the thunder of gladness.
But where ar(> ye ? 55
ToVK
What charioteers are tiiese?
Paxt'ifa
V\ here are their chariots'?
ill
II
■!f|
I i
I ' "
12;i I'llOMETlIKls IWJioiMj
Skmiciiokcs ()|,- ]I,,ri;s
Tlui voice of tlie Spirits of Air uiid .,f Kurth
II;i^ .liMuu l.ark the lio,nv,l cirtain of >.eep
AVhicli rovernl <.ur Ihm,,.^ ;u„l .larUciuMl our hirtJi
III tilt! (ItTj).
A \'()1( !•;
In tin; (lec|)?
Skmiciioki's II
01), below the deep.
Semichorus I
An hundred ages ue had been kept
Cnidled in visions of Imte and care,
And ..ach one wlio waked as lu.s brother slept,
Found tlie truth —
61
Si'MicnoKus II
A\ orse than his visions were !
Se:\iichouus I
We have heard the lute of Hope in sleep;
We have known the voice of Love in dreams;
We have felt the uand of Power, and leap —
Semkiiohus II
As the billows leap in tiie niornin^' beams!
65
CnoitL's
AVoavo the danee on tli<" floor of the brec
^ rierce witli song iieaven's sih-nt light,
Enchant tiie day th;it too swiftlv flees.
cze,
'l\, ..I...„l. u. a-
• vo ...o-.c cic Liie cave oi niotit.
ri: OMETiiK I 's I -y i: o i wu
127
( )ii('(' the luiii;;ry Hours were lioiinds
Wliich chased tliu day like a hk'edinjjf doer,
And it limped and stuudiled with many wounds
Tlirough the nightly dells of the desert year.
<a
])ut now, oh weave the mystic measure
( )t' music, and danee, and shapes of liglit ;
Let the Hours, and the spirits of might and pleasure,
Like the clouds and sunbcan)s, unite! 80
A VoicK
Pan Tin; A
Unite !
See, where the Spirits of the human mind,
Wrapt in sweet sounds, as in bright veils, approach !
Chouus of Si'IKITS
We join the throng
Of the danee and the song.
By the whirlwind of gladness borne along ;
As the fiying-fish leap
From the Indian dee]).
And mix with the sea-birds, half asleep.
85
90
Cnn -IS OF HoUKS
Whence come ye, so wild and so Heet r —
For sandals of lightning are on your feet.
And your wings are soft and swift as thought.
And your eyes are as love which is veiled not.
ClIOKl'S OF Sl-IKITS
We come from the mind
Of humankind.
Which was late so dusk, and obscene, and blind ; 95
mi
128
i
rnoMETiiErs vn hound
Now 't is an ocean
Of c'lt'ar emotion,
A lu-avon of serene and niigljty motion.
Fi<»m that deep ahjss
Of wonder and hliss,
^Vhoso caverns are crystal })alaces ;
i'roni those skyey towers
Where Thought's crowned powers
bit watching yonr dance, ye happy Hours!
From the dim recesses
Of woven caresses,
Wliere lovers catch ye l,y yonr loose tresses;
r rom the aznre isles,
A\'here sweet Wisdom smiles,
IJelaying your ships with her siren wiles.
From the temples high
Of Man's ear and eve,
-Roofed over Scnlptnre and ]\)esy ;
I'lom the murmurino-s
Of the unsealed si)rings
Where Science bedews his danlal win-s.
100
105
110
115
Years after yeai-s.
Through ])lo(,d, and tears,
And a thick heJl of hntreds, and hopes, and fears,
>> o waded and flew, j„,j
And til." islets were few
Where the bnd-hlighted flowers of hn,,piness grew.
Our feet now, every palm,
Are sandalled with calm,
,.,._ uert ui vjui- Wings is a raiu of balm ; V25
riiOMETIIEUS UNIiOUND 129
And, beyond our eyes,
The human love lies
Which makes all it gazes on Paradise.
CliOKUS OK Sl'IRITS AN'I> HoiJRS
Then weave the web of the mystic measure ;
Fiom the depths of the sky and the ends of the
earth, loU
Come, swift Spirits of might and of pleasure,
Fill the dance and the music of mirtli.
As the waves of a thousand streams rush by
To an ocean of splendoui' and harmony !
Ciiouis OK Spikits
Our spoil is won, 135
Our task is done.
We are free to dive, or soar, or run ;
Beyond and around.
Or within the bound
Which clips the world wiUi darkness round. 140
We '11 })ass the eyes
Of the starry skies
Into the hoar deep to colonize :
Death, Chaos, and Night,
From the sound of our flight, 146
Shall flee, like mist from a tempest's might.
IT-
■1 i
I i 1
1 :
p
'■\ «
? \
And Earth, Air, and Liglit,
And the Spirit of Might,
Which drives round the stars in their fiery flight ;
And Love, Thought, and Breath, 150
The powers that ijuell Death,
Wherever we soar shall assemble beneath.
130
I'UOM Kill lie s IMiOCyj)
I I >i
i'i
And (till- siii^ri„M sliJill h'.iild
In tin- voids loose ticl«l
A world for tlio Spirit of Wisdom to wield ; ir,5
W o will take our \>\au
From the new world of man.
And our work shall he eallt'il the Promethean.
Ciiours OF HouKs
Break the danee, and scatter the son<"
Let some depai't, and s(Mne remain. 160
SkMK lloiil'S I
AVe, beyond heaven, are driven ahjng:
SkMK'IIoUI'S II
Us the enchantments of earth retain :
Skmhiioius I
Ceaseless, and rapid, and fierce, and free,
With the Si)irits which l>nild a new i-arth and sea,
And a heaven where yet heaven could never be. 105
SKMK'UOIurs J I
Solemn, and dow, .and serenu, and bright,
Lcadinjj;' the Day, and outspeedini,' the Ni-ht,
With the powers of a world of perfect ligiit.
SKiMKHOHI'S I
We whirl, sin<]fin<; loud, round the ,<,rathering sphere.
Till the trees, and the beasts, and the clouds appear
Irom its chaos nia<le calm i>y love, not fc;ir. 171
SkMK ilOKl'S II
t» x; ^»iv..iv.ic tiic ucxciu ami iiiountams of earth.
I'liOMETIIEVS UMlorXI)
And the happy forms of its death and birth
('liaiii;c to th(^ iimsic! of our sweet iniith.
131
ClloKl'S OF n
ovKs .\M> Si'iuir.-
Hri'ak the dance, and scatter th
e SOU'
Let some depart, and some remain
W iierever we tiy we h'ad alom;-
In h;ashcs, like starl
Tl
)eanis, soft vet stronii-,
le eloud.s that are lieavy with love's sweet rai
n.
Pa.ntiik.v
Ha I they are
;one
I
O.NK
Yet feel von no deliulit 1
80
From the ])a.st sweetness?
' t
t^ i
l'A.N"Tin:A
As the hare green hill,
Wlien some soft elond vanishes into rain,
Langhs with a thousand drops of sunny water
To the unpavilioned sky !
lONK
Even whilst we s])eak
New notes arise. What is that awful sound?
IS.'
Paxthka
'T is tiie deep music of the rolling world.
Kindling within the strings of the waved
-Kolian modulations.
air
lONK
How every pause is tilled with under-notet
/'
132
viioMKTiiKrs rxiiorxi)
l!f
il i
00
('l(':ii-, silver, icy, k,.,.,, awalicnin;; t„i,t.s, joq
Wl.icli pific- the sense, and live within the soul,
As the shaip stars pierce winter's crystal air,
And gaze upon thcnisclves within the sea.
I *A NT I IK A
But see where, thn.ii.-h two openiu-s in the forest
^^ hicl: haii-in-' hrun.-hes overcanopy, j,,,-
And where two runnels of a tivnlet
Jietween the close nioss, violet-inwoven.
Have made th.^ir path of inelody, like sisters
|\ ho part with siol.s that they n.ay meet iu smiles,
liirnm^r their dear disunion to an isle
()f lovely orief, a wood of sweet sad thou<^hts ;
Two visi,)Ms of stian-e radiances float upon
The ()cean-like enchantmerit of stron<,' sound,
AVliicli Hows intenser, kc^ener, deep.. "yet.
Under the ground and through the windless uir. 205
To\K
I see a chariot like that thinnest boat
In whieh the mother of tin; months is horne
r.y ebbing night into her western cav.-,
When she upsprings from interlunar dreams;
Oyr which is curved an orblike canopy 210
Of gentle darkness, and the hills and woods
Distinctly se..u through that dusk airy veil,
K'egard like shapes in an enchanter's glass ;
Its wheels are solid clouds, azure and gold,'
Such as the gvnii of the thunderstorm" ' 215
I'ih' on the floor of the illumined s.ni
AN lien the sun rushes uniler it : they roll
And move and grow as with an inward wJtuI .-
"^\ ithin it sits a winged infant, white
190
ist
i(»;
es.
.'00
riioMKTinns r.v iioi w u
i;];5
Tt
s coimtciiaiicc, like ilic w
l.iti
flifss ol hrii-lit SHOW, JJO
It- |iliiiiit's air as ft-atlicrs of sniiiiv tiost.
liii
ll.S -1
faiii wliitc. tlir(»ii''li tlic uiii
low iiii'-
fol
lis
( M it> wlii'.' rolic, \\o.>t' of ctlit'ical [n-arl.
Its Iiaii' is wliitc, llif !)ri"lifiic>s of wliite lio-lit
>rattt're(l in strings; yt't its tu(» eyes art' iK-avciis 2.
( M' li([ui(l (larkiit'ss, wliicli tlio ilcitv
W itliin siM'iiis |)oiiriiiL;', as a storm is poured
I' I'oiii ja^■JJ;('■(l clouils, out of their arrouv laslu's,
'rriiii>eriii_<; the eohl and radiant air around,
\\ ith lire that is not luitihtness ; in its hand J.':
It sways a (jiiiverini;- nioonheain, troni wliose point
j\ f^iiidinn' ])ower directs tlie chai'iot's prow
Over its wheeh'd elouvls, whicdi as they roll
Over the grass and flowe s, and waves, wake -lounds
Sweet as a sinnjnii' rain of silver (iaw. i;>,
2{)l.
210
215
Paxtmka
1 from the otlier opienini; in the wood
. shes, with loud and whirlwind harmony,
A sphere, whieh is as many thousand spheres,
Solid as crystal, yet through all its mass
Mow. as tlirouL'' empty space, jnusic and light: 240
fen thousand orbs involving and involved,
I'luph; and azure, white, green, aiul golden.
Sphere within s])here . and every space between
Peopled with unimaginal)l(> shapes.
Such as ghosts dream dwell in the lam])less deep, 2-15
Yet each intertranspicuous, and thev whirl
Over each other with a thousand motions,
I'lion a thousand sightless axles spinning.
And with the foire of self-destrovin^' swiftness.
Tut
eiiselv, slowlv, soleiunlv I'oll <
>n.
250
Kindling witli mingled sounds, and many tones
1 i
: I
•JGO
L'df)
Iiit.'li;.4lMr \v,,i-,U ;,,,,! imislc wild.
Will, iniuhty u|,i,l ,|„. „.nltii,„li s ,„1,
(irin,l> thr l„i^l,i l„.,H,k ini,, ;,,, ;,^,,|,,. ,„i,(
Of ••IruM'iit.il suhtlctx, Jili,. li.|,,.
Ami til.. uil.I ,„|.>iir <,f the lo'ivst ll..u,.rs,
Tlu' iimsi,- ,,f til,, liviu- Mrass and air,
Tin. ,.i„.. raid li-i.t of ]rat-,.ntai.-l..d Lraiiis,
I'om.d its iiitrns.. yi't .s..]f-,„nflirtiii- spued'
^"•••iii luH.a.N.d int.) .,1,,. aerial mass"
\Vlii,.I, dn.wi.s il... sen>e. Within tl.o orl. itself,
J illowed u|i.)n its alahastt.p arms.
I-iI<L' to a ehild o'cruearie.l with sue.t t..il,
()ii its „wn f.d.h..! win-s an.i waw hair,
Th.. Spirit of tho Karlh is lai.l asi..e]., '
And y.)M ean see its little lips arc nioviii-,
Ami.l the chanuin- li^^ht .,t tlu.ir own sndk-s,
Like ono who talks of what ho lovos in dream.
loVK
'Tis only mocking the orl.'s harmony.
I'antiik.v
And from a star upon its for,.hea<l, shoot,
Like sw,»n!s of azure lire, or -..Iden spears
U itli tyrant-cpiellin-;' myrtle ovintwined,
Kml.lemin- h..aven and earth nnit(..l now,
\ ast beams like sp.,kes of some invisible wheel -74
U neh whirl as the orb whirls, swiff.r than thou-d.t,
I'llliny the abyss with snn-like liyhtnin-s,
An.l i)erpendi(.Mlar n.)w, and now transverse,
IV'ree the .lark s.,il, and as they pieree an.l j.ass,
Alake bare the seerets .,f the ..artirs deep heart;
Inhnite mine of a.Iam.uit an.l -.)1,|. gSO
V aiUelesH ^ito^es, and imiiiia"ine(t "..ms
L'.),i
270
rnoMi-.TiiKis r.Miorsn
135
An.l
(•;i\i'i-iis on crvstalliiii' (•olmiiiis jioisnl
W
ill vc-cialili- silver ovfispi cad
\\ • lU nl iiiil.it hoiiird liif, and uatci-s|tiiii:;><
W
W
irlirc
till' ;4r(at sea t'vcii as a fluid i-
frd.
285
iii)>('
vapniirs cliitlir taitli's iiioiiarrli iiiouiitaiii-tnps
\\ itli kiii^lv, ciiiiiiif sii()\
Til.' 1
M'aiiis
ash oil.
And iiiakt; appciir tlu; iiu laiiclioly ruins
( )i' caniidU'd cyiKs : ancliors, licaks of ships ;
riiiiUs turned to niarlilc ; quivers, ludnis, and si)oars,
And ^or-ondicaded targes, and the wheels 291
( )t' scvthed chariots, ;'nd the enililazonry
( )l' trophies, standards, and armorial beasts.
Koiind whicli Death hiuf^hed, sepulchred endjlenis
( )t" dead destruetion, ruin within inin I 295
The wreeks heside of many a eitv va.-^t.
\y
Tl
lose
I">I
)n
hiti
ion whiidi the earth ^rew over
;is luori
il, hut not human ; sei", they lie,
th skelet(
leir monstrous works, and uncouth skt
)ns.
'I'lieir statues, homes and fanes : |iiodi;^ious shapes ;UJt)
Huddled in L;ray annihihitioti, split,
dammi'd in the hard, black deep: and, over these,
TI
le anatomies o
f unl
viiown w'in";i'(
It!
imi
And tishes which were isles of livin<jj scale,
And serpents, hony (diains, twi-ted around
The iron craLljs, or within lieaps of dust
To whicdi the tortuous stiH'n-th of their last pangs
Had crushed tiie iron cia^s: and over these
The jaji^ed allii;ator, and the mii^ht
< )f earth-eonvulsiiiLj hehenioth, which once
Were monarch beasts, and on the sliinv shores,
305
310
And
weei
l-overiirown continents of earth,
Increaseil and multiplied like summer worms
( )n an aliandoued cor|)se, till the blue <;!obe
\\ rapt delui;e round it like a cloke, and they 315
I
b
136
Ji
HH.
PiiOMETiiEi -s I \ynorxr)
325
1|1K.1, .aspcl, and wore aholisl.e.l : or some God
^hose throne .as in a con.t. past, a.^
i^enot. And J,ke n.y w.u.ls tlH.y uoie no moi-e.
TuK Eaktii
The joy, the trinn.ph, the delight, the madness!
The boundless, ove.Howino, l,u,stino- .Ja.Iness 300
Tho vaporous exultation not to be confined ! '
^1:1 ■ lia. tlie animation of deli'rjit
^J bic-b wraps n.e, like an atmosphere of bgl^t,
And bears me as a cloud is borne by its owxAvimI!
Tni: Moov
Brother mine, calm wanderer,
Happy globe of land and air '
Some Spirit is darted like a belm from thee,
U Inch i)enetrates ,nv frozen frame
And ^ asses with the war.nth of flame,
AVitb love, and odoui, and deep melody 330
-liaough me, through me!
Thk K.VKrif
My cl. ven fire-crags, sound-exulting fountains
T-.h w.tb a vast and inextinguishaM.- lauglZ^
J oceans, and the deserts, an.l the abvs'Ses, 335
And the deep an. s nnmeasun-d wildern;sses
Answer^^rom all their clouds and bilIo:Ceehoing
They e,y aloud as I do : Sceptred curse,
>v no all our o-reen ind m-„,„^
,^n-*ii and a/ure universe
Threatenedst to
sendinjr
muffle round with black destructi
on,
340
ritOMETIIKVS UNBOUND
137
i
A solid cloud to rain hot thunder-stones,
And s})linter and knead down my children's bones,
All I l)rinij forth, to one void mass luittcriug and
bleniling ;
Until each crag-like tower, and storied column,
Palace, and obelisk, ami temple solemn, 345
My imperial mountains crowned with cloud, and snow,
and fire :
My sea-like forests, every blade and blossom
Which fin(' a grave or cradle in my bosom.
Were stamped by thy strong hate into a lifeless mire.
How art thou sunk, withdrawn, covered, drunk
"1^ 350
By thirsty nothing, as die brackish cup
Drained by a desert-troop, a little drop for all ;
And from beneath, around, within, above,
Filling thy void annihilation, love
liursts in like light on caves cloven by the thunder-
ball I 355
The Moox
The snow upon my lifeless mountains
Ts loosened into living fountains,
My solid oceans flow, and sing, and shine:
A spirit from my heart bursts forth,
It clothes with unex])ected birth 360
My cold bare bosom : Oh. it must be thine
On mine, on mine I
' 1
1;.
(lazing on thee. I feel, I know.
Green stalks burst forth, and bright flowers
grow.
And living shaj)es uj'on my bosom move: 305
138
V.
I
!t!i
I'noMKTiirArs UN no und
^Insic is in the .sea and air,
^\ in^c.l clouds soar here and there
Dark with the raiu new l.u.ls are dreamin
T is love, all love .'
J? of;
TlIK Eaktii
It interpenetrates .ny graiiite mass, g-^
Through tan<,W.3d roots an<l trodden elay doth pass,
into the utmost leaves and deli.-atest flower. •
Lpon the winds, anion;,^ the elomls 't is spread:
it wakes a life in the forgotten dea<I,—
ll.ey l.reathe a spirit up from their obscurest bowers.
And like a storn, bursting its cloudy prison 376
V\ ith thunder n | with whirlwind, has arisen
Out of the lampless eaves of unimagined bein-:
^^ Ith earthquake shock and swiftness .naki,;;^- shiver
H.nght s stagnant chaos, unremove,; for evx-r, ;58()
ill hate, and fear, and pain, light-vanquished shadows,
ileeni"'. '
Leave Man. who was a many-sided mirror,
U Inch could distort to ,nany a shade of error.
This true fan- worhl of things, a sea reflecting love;
A\ hich over all his kind as the sun's heaven .IS",
^:ri,d,„g o'er ocean, s.nooth, serene, and even
Dartmg from starry depths radiance and life, doth
move ;
We Man, even as a leprous child is left,
U ho follows a sick l„>ast to souie warm cleft
^i rocks, through which the n.ight of healing springs
IS poured, — '^
llien wlien it wauders home with rosv sn.ilo
riiOMETHEVs uMiouyn
139
Unconscious, and its niotlier foais awliilo
It is a spirit, tlien, weeps on her cliilil restored :
Man, oh, not men ! a chain of linked thought,
Of love and inii;ht to he divided not, 395
C'Maiyelling the elements with adamantine stress;
As the sun rtdes, even with a tyrant's gaze,
The luupiiet rei)nl)lic of the snaze
Of i)lanets, struggling lieree towards heaven's free
wilderness:
t
!
ia
jNIan, one harmonious soul of many a soid, 400
Whose nature is its own divine control.
Where all things flow to all, as rivers to the sea;
Familiar acts are l)e;uitiful through love ;
Labour, and pain, and grief, in life's green grovo
Sport like tame beasts, none knew how gentle they
could be I 405
His will, with all mean passions, bad delights,
Antl selfish cares, its trend)ling satellites,
A spirit ill to guide, but mighty to obey.
Is as a tempest-winged ship, whose helm
Love rules through waves which dare not over-
whelm, 410
Forcing life's wildest shores to own its sovereign
sway.
All things confess his strength. ThrouL-h the cold
mass
Of marble and of colour his dreams pass ;
liright threads whence inotiiers weave the robes their
children wear ;
Languagt' is a perpetual orjihic song, 416
■( I
I'll
lill .
Pt
)e-
1-^0 rUOMETIIEUS VXli(jUXl)
WlnVlM.ul..switlMla..lalJmnn<,nv a throng
Of tl.o,.,l.ts an.l fonus, ulu-c-l, .Ise senseless and sha,
less wore. ^
The li^l.tnin^ is Ins slave: Leaven's ntrnost deep
(xives up lier stars, and like a Hoek .,f sheep
J hey pass before his eye, are nnnd.ered, .-, nd roll on ! 4'0
Jhe ten.pest .s his steed, he strides the air •
And the abyss shouts from her de]>th lai.l hare,
Heaven, hast thou secrets? Man unveils nie ; I have
none.
TiiK jroox
The shadow of white death has juast
iMom my path in heaven at last
A ='li»gin^^ shroud of solid frost and sleep-
nd throuoh my newly-woven bowers, '
W under hapjiy i)araniours.
Less miyhty, b.it as mild as those who keep
Thy vales more deep.
Thi: Eakth
As the dissolvino; warmth of dawn n,nv fold
A half ,nf,.ozen dew-.lobe. green, nn.lgold.
And erystalhne, till it becomes a win-ed mist
And wanders up the vault of the blue day '
Outhves the noon, and on the sun's last ,",V
Hangs oer the sea, a fleeee <.f fi,. and an.ethyst.
125
430
435
Thk :\roox
Thou art folded, thou art Iving
III the light which is undving "
Of thine own joy, and heaveu's'sndle divine;
AJl suns and (•oiisteIl''*!'.!'s •■' --
riiOMKTHE U S UNB UND
141
w
On tliee a liglit, a life, a power
Wliic'h (lotli array thy spear ; tliou pourest thine
On mine, on mine I
'I'mi: E.viiTir
I spin bencatli my i)yrami(l of iiii;lit,
Which i)()ints into the heavens, (lre:i!nin!f deliL^it, 1 15
INIurnuiring victorious joy in my enchanted sleep ;
As a youth lulled in love-dreams faintly sighing,
Under the shadow of his beauty lying.
Which round his rest a watch of light and warmth
doth keep.
The IMooN
As in the soft and sweet eclipse, 450
When soul meets soul on lovers' lips.
High hearts are calm, and brightest eves are
dull :
So when thy shadow frdls on me,
Then am I mnte and still, by thee
Covered; of thy love. Orb most beautiful, 455
Full, oh, too full !
* *
Thou art speeding ronnd the sun.
Brightest world of many a one ;
(jreen and azure sphere which shiiiest
With a light which is divinest
Among all the lamj)s of heaven
To whom life and liiilit is ffiven.
], thy crystal paramour.
Borne beside thee bv a ])ower
Like the ])olar paiadisc.
Magnet-like, of lovers' eyes ;
I, a most enamoured maiden
W liose weak brain is overladen
4GU
4()5
!lMi i
nil .
I n
142
rnoMKTiii:i-.s r.v/>or.v/^
"\Vitli tlic ploasun' of hw lovo,
Maniac-Iiko aroiiiid tiicr move
(iaziii_<,s an iiisatiat*; \mih\
On tliy form from c'V(>rv side
Like a Ma'uad, round tlie cup
^Vlu'tdi Agave liftud up
In the weird Cadinean forests.
Brother, wheresoe'er thou soarost
I must luirry, wliirl and follow
TJu-ou-h the heavens wide and hollow,
Sheltered by the wai-ni emhraee
Of thy soul from hungry space,
Drinking from thy sense and sight
Beauty, majesty, and might,
As a lover or cameleon
(Jrows like what it looks upon ;
As a violet's gentle eye
(iazes on the azure sky
Until its hue grows like "what it beholds,
Asa giay and watery mist
Glows like solid amethyst
Athwart the western mountain it enfolds,
When the sunset sleeps
Upon us snow.
'I'm: KAitTH
And the weak day wee])s
That it should be so.
O gentle Moon, the voice of thy delight
Falls on me like thy clear and tendeHight
Soothing the seaman, borne the summer night
'I'lirough isles for ev(>r calm :
O gentle Moon, thy crystal accents pierce
The caverns of my j)ride's deep universe,
470.
475
480
4S5
490
495
500
V ROM ETHEL'S UN HOUND 143
Charniiin; tin' tij^er joy, wliose tiainplings fierce
Miule vvotiiuls \vlii(;li need thy balm.
I'antmka
I rise as from a bath of sparkling water,
A bath of azure light, among dark roeks,
( )iit of the stream of sound.
loNE
Ah me I sweet sister, 505
The stream of sound has ebbed away from us,
And you pretend to rise out of its wave,
Ut'canse your words fall like the clear, soft dew
Shaken from a bathing wood-nymph's lindjs and hair.
Pea
Pa XT hi: A
ace I ])eace I A mighty Powei-, which is as dark-
ness,
510
Is rising out of Earth, and from the sky
Is showered like night, and fioin within the air
linrsts, like eclipse which had been gathered up
Into the pores of sunlight: the bright visions,
AVlierein the singing s])irits rode and shone,
(ileam like pale meteors through a watery night.
luNK
There is a sense of words upon mine ear.
Pa XT hi: A
An universal sound like words: Oh, list!
I)K>1(><ioi;(i()N'
Thou, Earth, calm cm])ire of a happy soul,
Sphere of divinest shapes anil harmonies,
■f!
HI
)20
144
vnoMETiiKis rxnorxi)
t'l
M>
I!oa„tir„l „rl, : „„t .i„j, ,„ t|,„„ ,,,,^j ,.,^1,
II"- I..V. wl,i.l, paves .l,v pati, al„„j; ti.e skios:
Tin: FvMtin
1 liear; I am as a dr.,,, „f ,|,>u. tlmt dies.
I)K.M(»(i(ii;(i(,x
r\unu M,.on, whicd, j^az.st on tl.c- ,u\rhtly Earth
n irh wonder, as it -azes upon tluM- : r,,^
W lulst each to „,en, and Leasts, and the swift
birth
Of birds, is beauty, love, cahn, harmony:
Tmi: Moox
I hear: lama leaf shaken by thee !
I)i;.M(;(;()i;(;().v
Ye kings ..f suns and Stars! Daemons and Gods,
.l.thereal Dcmnnations ! who possess 5.30
i^lysian, windless, fortunate abodc-s
Beyond Heaven's constellate<l wilderness:
A VOKK V\U)M AHon-;
Our great Kepul^lie h.ars ; we are blest, and bless.
DmiofjoifrrOv
i^' happv dead ! whom benn.s of brightest verse
Are elouds to hide, not c-olours to portray, 535
^^ iH.fher your nature is that universe
\\ hieh once ye saw and suffered —
A VoKK FROM BKNKATH
xv\ 1 , Or as they
XT ..on; -.vc iiave ieit, we ehange .n<l pass away.'
rnoMKTiiF.vs vsnorsD
14;
I)
I'MIMiuKfiON
Vc ol(Miioiit;il (ifiiii, who have lioiiios
I'loiii inan's liii^^li iiiiiid even to tin- central stone TA{\
Of siilli'ii lend ; from Heaven's star-fretted don.es
To tlie dull weed some sea-worm battens on:
A Com rsii> \'<>i
iV.
\Ve 1
icar
tl
IV words waken
Ol
)livion.
530
I)kmo(;ok(;o\
Spirits, whose homes are Hesh : ye beasts and birds,
Ve worms, and lish ; ye living leaves and buds ; Tilf)
Lit'litnin"- and wind ; and ve untameable herds,
Meteors and mists, which throng air's solitudes:
A Voi< K
Thy voice to us is wind among still woods.
DKMOOOlKiOX
Man, who wert once a despot and a slave;
A dupe and a deceiver ; a decay; 650
A traveller from the cradle to the grave
Through the dim night of this immortal day :
All
Speak I thy strong words may never pass away.
Dkmogorgox
This is the day, which down the void abysm
At the Earth-born's spell yawns for Heaven's despot-
ism, •"'•'»5
And Conquest is dragged ca])tive through the deep:
Tjovc. from its p.wful thr'>ne '^f ontient ixuver
In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour
( \
lie
\ \ X i
!'fl .
II
n [ \
rnOMETllKVS [ -.v IK) I W I)
Of .iivM.I .■ii.Iur.ui.v, In.iM tlu^ >li|.iM.ry, stccj),
An.l ..;,in,\v v...-v ,.f ,t;.--1,U,. :,-ony, spriii-s
Aii.l folds over tilt; woil.l it.s lie;iliii;r\viii.rs/^
rm)
(i.nllrtlcss \'i,tur, WiMl,,,,., .■,.1,1 Kri.I.M-Mnoo,
'lli'M- an. thr seals <,f that i.i..st, li,„, assura.-icG
^^ U'u'U hars til,' pit „v,.,. l),.stnicti,)irs streii^^th;
And if, witii infir,,, 1,;|,„|, KtiMiity, " '555
Mnt]H'.v ,)f many acts aii,l Iioms, .sii,)iiM fre,;
^ Til,. s,.i|„.„t that uouM .-lasp her with his lon-th
-TIk-so are th.- spdls l,y which in iv-assuinc
An empire o'er the disentaiii-led doom.
To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite;
To for-iye wron-s ,larker than death or ni'-ht:
To dety Power, which seenis oni-iijjotent ;
To love, and hear: to hope till IIopo creatc's
From its ,>wn wreck the thin- it conte.nj.lates ;
Neither to chan-e, nor falter, nor repent;
This, hke thy -lory, Titan, is to be
(iood, great and joyous, heautifnl and free;
Tins is alone Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory!
r>70
fi
70 Tin-: M(><>.\
147
THK WORLDS WANDKIIKKS
Tki.I, iih', tlum st.ir, wliosr wiiii^'s (if li^lit
Spfcd I liri' in t li\- licT\' tli'^lit,
I M U ll.ll I'.l vein (it t lie lli^lit
Will t liv jiiiiitiiis clnx' now'.'
I (11 iiic, iiioDii, limn pale and ^ray
IMli^frim of Iicavfii's lioiiich'ss way,
III what (Icptli of iii^lit or dav
St'L'kest t Ik 111 repose now?
Weary wind, who wanderest
Like the worhl's r<>jeeted j^iiest,
Hast tlion slill some secret nest
On tlie tree or billow?
ISUO.
THK WANING MOON
Axi> like a dyin<; ki'b'' ^'''^" '^'"^ pale,
Mho totters forth, wrajit in a gauzy veil,
Out of her ehainber, led I)}' the insane
And feehle wamlerinj^s of her fadiii;^ hrain,
The moon arose u]) in the murky East,
A white and shapeless mass.
10
TO THE MOON
Art thou pale for weariness
Of cliiMhint^ heaven, and gazing on the earth.
Wandering eompanionless
Among the stars that have a different birth, —
1 : i:i- . .. -• ...1 ,
That iiuds no object worth its constancy?
1 I
11 f
148
.sr>.vc;
(iOOl) NKIHr
(;<toi) NK.Hi ' all. no: tlit> lioiii- is ill
Wliicli sfvns tlinsc it >liniili unite:
Iji't, US I'cniain tontilirr still.
Tli'n it will \>v ijiintl niL;iit.
lli>\v can I fall the loiu> nii;lit t;i>()(l, 6
ThoiiLili lliy swcft wislifs winj; its {li«,'lit?
lie it not saiil, tiionulu, understood,
Then it will l»e ijnod ni^^lit.
To hearts which near each other move
From eveniiifjj elo.se to moininj; light
The nii;ht is ^ood : hecausi-. my love,
Thcv never .sf/// <^ood night.
1820.
10
b. xr,
IvAUKLV, rarely, eoniest thon,
Spirit of Delight:
"Wheiefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
'T is sinee thou art Hed away.
How shall ever one like mo
AVin thee baek again '!
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at ]>ain.
Rnirit fiilse ! tlioii liast forirot
All but those who need thee not.
10
\
SOS a
As a li/.:inl with thr sliado
Of a tifiiiWlmi; l<a
lion w I
th sdiTi'V a
It (li>uiavi-(l
KvcM the si-lis (.f Mr'uf
n'.>
15
Ucproai
• 1, (lire, that tlioii ait not near.
Ami rtj)i<»a(
h thuii will not lie;ir.
Lot in«' --('t my mourn
fill aitty
'!'(• a Jiii'MV nn'a>uro
t iicwr fonif ti>r pity,
TlL.ti wilt rouie fni' l.lrasuic
hou w 11
ritv then will cut away
Those cruel wings, and thou wi
lit stay.
20
10
I love all that tliou lovest,
Spirit of lKlii;lit.
The fresh Harth in new
And the starry ni-ht
loaves drcst,
Autumn evfiun<
AVhen the golden mi.^ls are born
and the morn
I.
30
I love snow, am
Of the radiant frost
1 all the fuiins
1 winds, and storms,
I love waves, am
Everything almost
AVhieh is Nature's, and may
Untainted hy man's misery.
1)0
36
10
I love tvanqnil solitude,
And sueh society
As is (piiet. wise, a
Between thee and m
lU
1 unod
40
What difference '.'
The thinus I sor'ic
But thou dost possess
.ni
less.
•■^a
'^i.'j^.
150
!
snxc; or-- rnosEurixE
I lovo L()V(i — tlioiiL:]! lie lixs \viii"-s,
And like lii^ht can Hcc,
r>ut, al)()ve all other tliiiurs,
spirit, I love tlieo —
Thou art love and life! () come,
Make once more my heart thy home!
TO
I VK\n thy kisses. <,a'ntlo maiden, —
Thou needest not tear mine ;
My spirit is too deeply laden
Ever to l)urthen thine.
I fear thy mien, thy tones, thy motion.
Thou needest not fear mine;
Innocent is the lieart's devotion
With which I woiship thine.
45
SONG OF PROSERPINE
Win^.ST GATHEKIN( FLOWKUS OX TllK I'LAIX OF EN'XA
SaCKKD Goddess. Mother Earth,
Thou from whoye inunortal bosom
Gods, and men, and beasts have birth,
Leaf and blade, and bud and bk)ssom,
Breathe thine influence most divine
On thine own cjiild, I'roser])ine.
If with, mists of evenin^^ dew
xi.„vi ..;t.;.-ji, »i./,ii i.iii tiit.-n; \otlil^ iioWCI'S
l\
AUTUMN
Till tlioy J^i'ow, in scent nnd hue
Fiiirest children of the Hours,
Hrcathc thine intiueace most divine
On thine own child, Pioserpiue.
1820.
AUTU^IN
151
10
III
i'^
A iJlliCiE
TlIK warm sun is failing, the hleak wind is wailin^^.
The bare boughs are sighiuL;', the i)ale ilowers are dying ;
And the year
On the earth, her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead,
Is Iving. 5
Come, months, come away,
From \ovend)er to ^la}',
In your saddest array ;
Follow the bier
Of the dead cold year, 10
And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre.
The chill rain is falling, the nipped worm is crawling,
The rivers are swelling, the thunder is knelling
For the year :
The blithe swallows are tlown, and the lizards each
gone 15
To his dwelling.
Come, months, come away;
Put on white, black, and gray ;
J-iet your liglit sisters play —
Ye, follow the bier 20
Of the dead cold year.
And make her grave green with tear on (ear.
\s-20.
tl .
152
THE (QUESTION
TliK QUESTION
I DUKAMKI) tli.'it, as I war lered by tlie way.
Haro wiiiti'i- siuldt'iily \ is clianged to spring',
And geiitlo odours led my steps astray,
Mixed with a sound of waters luurniuring
Along a shelving l)ank of turf, which lay 5
I'nder a copse, and hardly dared to fling
Its green arms '-ound tlu' l)osom of tht; stream,
JJut kissed it and then fled, as thou mightest in dream.
There grew pied wind-flowers and violets ;
Daisies, those ])earled Arctnri of the earth; 10
The constellated flower that never sets ;
Faint oxlips; tender hluehells, at whose birth
The sod scarce heaved : and that tall flower that wets —
Like a eluld, half in tenderness and mirth —
Its mother's face with heaven-collected tears. 15
AVhen tlu! low wind, its playuiate's voii-e. it hears.
And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine,
(ireen cowl)ind and the moonlight-coloured may.
And cherry-olossoms, and white cups, whose wine
Was the bright dew yet drained not by the Day ; JO
And wild roses, and ivy serpentine,
With its dark buds aiul leaves, wandering astray ;
And flowers azure, black, and streaked with gold,
Fair(!r than any wakened eyes behold.
And nearer to the river's trembling edge 25
There grew broad flag-flowers, purple prankt with
white :
And starry river-buds among the sedge:
And tioatimx water lilies, hroad and bright,
;\
UYM.! OF AI'OLLO
153
10
15
Wliich lit the oak that ovorliuiiij the h('(1<:;e
\\'ith nioonlii^ht heaius of their own watery light ; 30
And Imli-uslies, ami reeds of sneh deep green
As s(U)thed the dazzled eye with soIht sheen.
Mctlionght that of these visionary flowers
1 madt! a nosegay, bound in sueh a way
riiat the same hues, whleh in their natuial bowers 35
Were mingled or ojjposed, the like array
Kept these imprisoned ehildi'en of the Hours
Within my hand, — and then, elate and gay,
I hastened to the spot whence I had come,
That 1 might there present it! — O, to whom?
1S20.
40
HYMN OF APOLLO
TllK sle(>pless Hours who watch me. as I lie
Curtained with star-inwoven tapi-stries
From the broad mooidight of the sky,
Fanning the busy dreams from my dim eyes, —
Waken me when their Mother, the gray Dawn, 5
Fells them that dreams and that the moon is gone.
Then I arise, and climbing Heaven's Idue dome,
I walk over the mountains and tlic waves,
Leaving my robe upon the ocean-foam :
My footsteps pave the clouds with tire: the caves 10
Are filled with my bri^■ht ])resence : and the air
Leaves the green eartli to my embraces bare.
Tlic sunbrains arc mv shafts, with wliich T kill
Deceit, that loves the night and fears the day ;
All men who do or even imagine ill 15
Fly me. and fiom tlie L;iory of my ray
1
m
154
iiyM.\ OF r.i.y
(iO(,«i minds ;iii(l o|»rii actions take new nii"lit,
Until tliniini.-. jd l)y the lei-n of ni;;ht.
I teed the clouds, the rainlxjus, and the flowers,
\\ ith their a'tliereal e(»loii!'s : the Moon's <'lobe 20
And the pure stars in their eternal bowers
Are cinctured with my i)ower as with a robe;
^\ hatever lami)s on Karth or Heaven niav shino
Are portions of one power, which is mine.
I stand at noon upon the peak of Heaven : 25
Then with nnwillimj;- steps I wander down
Inti» the clouds of the Atlantic even :
For grief that I depart they weep and frown :
A\ hat look is more deli-htful than the smile
"\\ ith which I soothe them from the western isle? 3U
I am the eye witli which the universe
Jieholds itself and knows itself divine;
All harmony of instrument or verse,
All proj)hecy. all medicine, ai'e mine.
All light of art or nature : — to my song
Victory and praise in their own ri«rht belon':
18211.
35
H Y.M.N OF J'AN
FuOM (he foH'sts and highlands
A\'e come, we come ;
From the river-girt islands,
^\ here loud waves are dumb
Listening to my sweet pipings.
The wind in the rt'cds an.l tlie rushes,
'I'l... 1 ^ .... .1. 1 !1 ,• . T
- — ^^„ .... ^..^ .jv.!.., >/i iiijiiiu,
JIVM.X OF /'.LV
The birds on the invitk'-bnshcs.
Tl
w ('icaltj abovt; m thu Jiiiit',
And thi! lizards l.t h
i)\v in tliL' "^rass.
w
CIV as silent as uvor old Tniol
us was,
List
fninjj;- to my swet't jiij)ing\s.
O,)
10
3U
'S
Liquid Pcniiis was flowing,
And all dark Tcnipc lay
In Pulion's shadow. out<r''owin^
The lij;ht of the dyini^- day,
Speeded by iny sweet ])i]>in!;s.
The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns,
And the Nymphs of the woods and wiives,
To the edge of the moist river-lawns, 20
And the briidv of the dewy eaves,
And all that did then attend and follow,
W ere silent with love, as you now, Aj)ollo,
\\ ith envy of my sweet jiipings.
. i
35
I sang of the dancing stars, 25
I sang of the (hedal Earth,
And of I leaven — and the giant wars,
And Love, and Death, and Jiirth ; —
And then 1 changed my ])i))ings, —
Singing how down the vale of Ma-nahis 30
I pursued a maiden and clasped a reed :
Gods and men, we are all deluded thus!
It breaks in our bosom, and the.i we l^leed :
All wept, as I thiidi both ye now would.
If envy or age liad not frozen your blood, 35
At the .sorrow of my sweet pipings,
is'jo.
''I
156
Ai:i:Ti{rsA
11
• t|
I i
ARKTHrSA
Aui.i iirsA :i!()so
From licr coiicli ot' snows
In tin- Acroi ••raiiiii.ui iiioniitaius, —
From (-lord and from rra^,
"With many a jas.^, 5
Sln'lilierdiiiu' lu'i- liri<,dit fonntaiiis.
SIic It-apt down tlif rocks,
Witli lier rainljow locks
Streaming among tlie streams :
Her stt'i)s j)ave(l with green 10
The (lownwai-(l ravine
"Which slopes to the western gleams:
And gliding and springing,
She Went, ever singing
In murmurs as soft as sleep. I.'j
The l^arth seemed to love her.
And Heaven smiled al)ove her,
As she lingered towards the deep.
Then Ali)hens bold,
On his glacier cold, 20
With his tri(l(Mit the mountains strook ;
And opened a cha-ini
In the I'ocks : — with the spasm
All Ervmanihus shook.
And the blade south wind 25
It concealed behind
The ui'us of the silent snow.
And eartlupiake and thunder
Did render in sunder
Ti. - 1 f ^1... ,,,>,.;,.,.•.■ iw.i.^^v- an
I'he beard and the hair
Of f'u> > ' •■(-I'-ii-dil wi-re
ARETIIUSA
ir>i
Seen <lir()U!;li tlif torriMit's sweep.
As he i'oUowi'd the liu'iit
Of tlie iU'et iiynipirs lliirli^
To tilt' hiiiik of till' I)ori:in deep.
35
10
15
20
'' O save iiic ! ( ) uiiidc riie,
And hid tlic dt'ip hide iiic,
For lie grasps inc now l»y the li;iir . "
Tlic loud Ocean heard,
To its l)hie dt'ptli stirred,
And divided at lier )»rayer;
And under tlie water
Tlie Earth's white daughter
Fled like a sunny beam ;
lii'hind her descended
Her billows, unblended
With the braekish Doi'ian stream:
Like a i;looniy stain
On the (iuierald main
Ali)heus rushed bidiind, —
As an eai;le ])ursuing
A dove to its ruin
Down the streams of the cloudy wind.
40
sn
Under the bowers 55
Where the Ocean Powers
Sit on their ])earled tlirones ;
Throivgh the coral woods
Of tlie weltermu- floods:
Over hea])s of unvalued stones: 60
'I'lirough the dim beams
Which amid the strt am^
Weave a network of coloured liuht ;
And under the caves
Where the shadowy waves flfi
15H
(
1
!
I
1
1
'^\
THE ci.oru
An; as i^Tccii as tlu; for(>st's iiiylit:
( )iit^|iccilinL; the >liark.
-\ii(| tlic sword-lish daiU,
I iKlcr t lie (>(•( ail foam.
And >i|i tlimiiL;ii tlif I'ifts 70
( )t' tin- iiiipiiiilaiii-clilts
llicy passed (o tluir l)()ii;iii lioiiie.
And How fidiii tli('ir fountains
In Knna's nKuintains,
Down one vale wlicie tlio morning basks, 7")
Ld\e friends oncf paitcil
(irown siiiL;l('-lieaite(l,
They ])Iy tlieir watery ta.sks.
At sunri>e tlicy leap
From tlieir cradles steep 80
In the eave of the shelving l,ill ;
At noontide they How
Through the woods below,
And the meadows of asphodel;
xVnd at uiglit tluy^ sleep 85
In the rocking deep
Beneath the Ortygian shore; —
Like spirits that lie
In the azure si
When they love but live no more. 90
1820.
I HRIXd frt'sh showers for the thirsting flo
Fi'om th(! seas and the stitMUis:
1 bea.r liL''!!t sliadi^ for tlic h'.'ivi"^ '-■.!!!■?>. Ir-'-l
In their i.ooii !, v dreams.
wers,
'^
Tin: rj.ori)
ir.i)
Fi'Dtn mv wine:-; •'"■'' '^ii:ili''M tlic dews tliiit wiikon 5
'I'lii' sweet ImkU e\er\ one,
W'lieii i()(l<e(l to lest on tlieif iiiotlier's breust,
A-i she (lances about the sun.
I wieM the ilail of the hisbin^- liail.
And whiten the i;i-een ])lains nndcr, 10
An<l then a^ain I dissolve it in lain.
And laugh as I pass in thunder.
I sii't the snow on the mountains Ixdow,
And their j;r('at pines ^roan aghast;
And all the ni^ht 'tis my ])illow white, 15
While I sleej) in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skyey bowers,
Liiihtninj,^ my pilot sits;
In n cavern under is fettered the thunder,
It strui;L;les and howls at lits ; 20
Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion.
This jnlot is tiiiidinjj^ me,
Luri'd by the love of the _i:;enii that move
In the depths of the ])urple sea :
Over the rills, and the erat^s, and the hills, 25
Over the lakes and the plains,
\\'lierever he dream, under mountain ut stream,
The Spirit he loves remains ;
And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile,
Whilst he is dissolving- in rains. 30
The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes.
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the baek of my sailing rack.
When the morniug-star shines dead;
i-v.s oil tne ]ag" ui a liiriiUiL.iiii crag.
Which an earthquake rocks and swings,
35
1(10
TiiK cutrn
All cai^It' alit OIK' jiKiiin'iit may sit
111 tilt" lii^Iit (if its l;(iI(1(ii uini^s.
And wlirii sunset may l>iv:itln-. fn.iii tlic lit soa lit'iicatli.
Its aidoiirs of rest anil of love, 49
And tlic ciim^oii |)all of eve niav fall
l''i<>m tiu! (Irptli of licavcn aliovo,
\\ itli \vin'4s folded I rest, on mine airv nest.
As still as ri hroodin" dove.
That oi'lied inaidi'ii, with wlutc flro laden, 40
Whom mortals call the moon.
Glides i;limmeiin<,' o'er my fiecee-like floor,
By the midnii;ht I)i'eezes strewn ;
And \\h. I'er the heat of her unseen feet,
W Inch only the ani^cls hear, 50
May have hioken the woof of my tent's thin roof,
The stars jjeep hidiind her and jieer ;
And I lauj^h to see tluMu whirl and flee,
Like a swarm of Ljolden hees,
When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, Sfi
Till the ealm rivers, lakes, and seas.
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on liio-h,
Are each paved with the moon and these.
I bind the sun's throne with a bnrninir zone.
Antl the moon's with a i^iidle of pearl ; fiO
The voleanoes are dim. and tlie stars reel and swim,
AVhen the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
From cape to cape, with a bridye-like shape,
Over a toricnt sea.
Sunbeam-proof, I hani;- likt,' a roof, 65
The mountains its eolumns be.
J be tl'liimnlinl rireli tliroimli »»'lii<ili T r»ini.^V>
With hurricane, fire, and snow.
TO A shVLAUK
IGl
•;ii
AVlicii tl\t' ])()\v<'i's of flic air arc chained to my cliair,
Is tlic inillioii-coloiircd 1
)C)\V
70
'I'lic sphere llic ahovc its suit coldnrs wove
A\ liile the iiKtist caith was laii"hiiiLr l»cl
ow.
1
4r.
50
I .1111 till' <lanul I' of earth and waiv r,
And the iiiirsliiii;- of the ^l<v;
I pass throiiiih the pores of the ocean and shores; 75
I chani^'e, Imt I cannot die.
For after the rain, when with never a stain
The pavilion of heaven is hai'e.
Ami the winds and snnheanis with their convex clcuns,
IJuild np the hlne dome of air, SO
I silently lani^li at niv own cenotajdi,
And out of the caverns of rain.
Like a child from the womb, like a gliost from the toinh,
1 arise and unbuild it again.
1820.
fiO
TO A SKYI.AUK
IIaik to thee, blithe spirit!
Ibrd thou never wert.
That from heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full lieart
In profuse strains of unpi'emeditated art. 5
IIii;lier still and hiiiher
From the eartli thou sprinji^est
Like a cloud of fire ;
The blue ch'cp thou winjjost, 9
And sincjinnj still dost soar, and soarinjr ever sin-rest.
In the 2r(dden liirhtninL'
Of the sunken sun,
1G2
lit A Sh ) l.AUK
;i
O'er wliicli cluiids aii- lui^lit iiiiiir,
I Imu (l(»t lliiat iiiul niii ;
LiUt; :iii uiiljodii'd joy wliosc race is just Ir'^mih. la
Tlic pale pllljilr cVfll
Ml Its an. nil. 1 thy fliLclit ;
Like a star ot liuavcii,
III (III- liicad (laylij^lit
Thuu art misei'ii, Imt yet I hear thy shrill ilclight, 'J(»
Ki'cii as art' the arrows
( )t' that silv( r ^iihoru
W ho.x- iiilfiisc laiii)» iiari'ow.s
III the white <Ia\vii ch'ar,
Until we harillv set", wt; fcul that it is thore. 25
All the earth and air
U'itii thv voice is lov.d.
As, when niL;ht is bare.
From one lonely eloiid
The moon rains out her heaius, and heaven is over-
fli)W'ed. M)
What thou art we know uot ;
What is most like thee?
From rainhow clouds there flow not
Drojis so hrii^ht to see.
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
Like a poet hidden
In the lii^lit of thon^-lit.
Sinking' hvnins unliidiU'ii,
'1 ill tlie uuild is wrou^^ht
To
[i5
»yiiipain\ witn uupes ami lears it neeaed iioi : lu
fo .1 si(Y/.Ai:h'
1(;.3
III .1 |i;ilai'i' tuwcr,
S(Mii liin^' licr iMVt'-ladiii
SiHil ill ■^('(■l•(■t lidiir 4\
W illi iiiiisic .-,U(ft :is lovr, \sliirli ovcrllous lier Itowcr:
Lilvi.' a ^'IdW-wor 111 ^oKlvu
I II a ill II 1(1 ilrW,
Scalti-rini;' iiiiiirlii»lili'ii
Its ai'i'ial liMc
Aihuiil; the tli)\vcrs ami yrass, wliicli si-iTeii it from
tile view : ,-,0
Ijik(! a tdm; cmliiiwcrcil
III its own ^lerii leaves,
J>y warm wimis iletlowered,
Till till.' seeiit it L;ive.s
MaUes faint with too iiiueli sweet these heavy-winged
thieves. 55
Sound of vernal showers
( )n the twinkiinL,' <;rass,
liain-awakened flowers, —
All that ever was 5!)
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, — thy music doth surpass.
Teach us, sj.rite or bird.
What sweet tliouj^hts are thine :
I have never heard
Praise of love or wine
That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. 65
Chonis I IvMien.tep.l.
Ov triumphal eliaunt.
Mf-
liil
1G4
TO A SKYLARK
Matched with thine would be all
Hilt an empty vaunt, —
A thing wlierein we feel tlieie is some hidden want. 70
What ohjeets are the foinitains
Of thy hai)|)y strain ?
Wliat fields, or w;ive<. or monntains ?
Wiiat shapes of sky or ])lain? 74
What love of thine own kind? what ii^niorance of pain?
With thv clear keen ioyancj
J^angiior eannot be :
Shadow of annoyance
^ever canit! near thee :
Thou lovest : but ne'er knew love's sad satiety. SO
Waking or asleep,
Thou of deatli must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream, 34
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream ?
We loolf before and after.
And pitie for what is not :
Our siiicerest laughter
With some pain is fr;iught :
Our sweetest songs are th,.se that tell of saddest
thought. gQ
T 1,..-
Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and ])ride. and fear;
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear.
...4- 1 i.1... • ^ , T
■ ■"~ ■'•'•'"■'' "'V r''j "'■.eevcr nuoum come near. u5
ODE TO LlliFAiTY
165
Better tli.an all measures
Of (k'li_<;litfiil sound,
Better than all treasures
That in hooks arc found,
Tiiy skill to poet were, thou seorner of the ground ! 100
Teach nie half the gladness
That thy brain must know,
Sutdi harmonious nuulness
From my lij)s would flow,
The world should listen then, as I am listeninjrnow. 105
1S20.
ODE TO LIBERTY
Yet, Freedom, yet thy banner, torn but flyinpf,
btreaiiis like a thunder-sturni au'aiust thu wind.
Byron.
A OLOUK^US people vibrated a<;ain
The lightning- of the nations: Liberty,
From heart to heart, from tower to tower, o'er Spain,
Scattering contagious fire into the sky.
Gleamed. ]VIy s(ml spurned the chains of its dismay, 5
And, in the rapid ])lumes of song,
Clothed itself, sublime and strong ;
As a young eagle soars the morning clouds among.
Hovering inverse o'er its accustomed prey :
Till from its station in the heaven of fame 10
The Spiiit's whirlwind rapt it, and the ray
Of the remotest sphere of living Haine
^\ Inch ))aves the void, was from behind it flinig.
As foam from a ship's swiftness ; when there
came
A voice our of the deep: I will recor<l the same. —
1G6
ODE TO LIllERTY
11
" Tlie S.in and the sercnest Moon si)ran- fortli : 10
I li.' l.iirnin- stars of the al.vss wen- \nxvU\
I<.^. the (l.-pths of lieave.,. The danlal eartli,
'I hat ishin.l in tlie ocean of the world,
III'. - in its cloud of all-sustaining air ; 20
V»\\t this divinest universe
A\ as yet a chaos and a curse,
For thou wi.rt not : but power f lotn worst produeino-
worse, ^
The spirit of the l)easts was kindled there,
And of the birds, and of the watery forms, 25
And there was war anH)ng them, and" despair
A\ itliin them, raisin- without truce or terms:
ilit' bosom of their violated nurse
Groaned, for beasts warred on beasts, and worms
on worms,
And men on men ; each heart was as a hell of
storms. 2Q
III
"Man, the imperial shai)e, tlien multiplied
ilis o-enerations under the })avilion
Of the Sun's throne : palace and i)yramid.
Temple and prison, to many a swarming million
\S ere as to mountain-wolves tiieir ragged caves.
Tiiis human living multitude
Was savage, cunning, blind, and rude,
F.M- thou wcrt not: but o'er the populous solitude,
Ldv-e one lieiro cloud ov<.r a waste of waves,
Hung tyranny : beneatli, sate deiHinl
The sister-pest, C(.iigi-eM;,tor of slaves;
.1,1 ,• I . .
iii.i;ii;v, oi iit,i pillions WKle,
40
10
f
ODE TO LIHERTY
ir>7
Aimrclis find ]HMOsts, who feed on i^old and Mood,
Till with tlie stain their inmost soids arc dyed, II
l)i(»ve the astonisliL'd herds of nitin troin every side.
1
20
IV
" Tlie noddinc: promontories, and hlne isles.
And cdoud-like mountains, and dividiions waves
()t (ireect! basked gh)rious in the opiMi smiles
Of favouring heaven : from tlu'ir enchanted caves
Prophetic echoes flung dim melody 50
On the unapprehensive wild.
The vine, the corn, the olive mild,
(irew, savage yet, to human use unieconciled ;
And, like unfolded flowers beneath the sea,
Like the nuin's thouglitdark iu the infant's brain,
Like auglit that is which wraps what is to be, riG
Art's deathless dreams lay veiled by many a vein
Of Parian stone: and, yet a s})eechless child,
Verse muruuired, and Pliil(>soi)hy did strain
Her lidless eves for thee: when o'er the ^ICgean
main GO
" Athens arose: a city such as vision
Builds from the ]»urple crags and silver towers
Of battlemented cloud, as in derision
Of kinji'liest masonry : the ocean-floors
Pave it ; the evening sky pavilions it ; 65
Its portals arc inhabited
Hv thunder-zoned winds, each head
\VithiM its cloudy wings with sun-iire garlanded,
A divine work! Atiiens diviner yet
(ileanu'd with its crest of columns, on the will 70
Of man, as on a mount of diamond, set:
For thou wert, and tliinc all-creative skill
1G8
ODE TO UUEIiTY
Ponplcil, with forms that mock the eternal dead
In :ii;iibU' immortality, that hill
A\ liicii was thine earliest throne and latest oraele.
VI
70
SO
-Sfj
" Within tiie snrface of Time's fleetinj; river
Its wrinkled image lies, as then it lay
Immovahly un(|uiet, and for ever
It trend des, but it eannot pass away I
The voices of thy bards and sages thunder
With an earth-awakening blast
Through the caverns of the past ;
lleligion veils her eyes ; Oppression sinks aghast
A winged sound of joy, and love, and wonder,
Which soars where expectation never flew.
Rending the ve!i of space and time asunder!
One ocean feeds the clouds, and streams, and dew ;
One sun illumines heaven ; one spirit vast
W ith life and love makes chaos ever new, — S9
As Athens doth the world with thy delight renew.
VII
" Then Rome was. and from thy dee]i bosom fairest,
Like a wolf-cub from a Cadma-an M;iinad,
She drew the milk of greatness, though thy dearest
From that elysian food was yet unweaned ;
And many a deed of terrible uprightness 95
By thy sweet love was sanctified ;
And in tliy smile, and by thy side,
Saintly Camillus lived, and firm Atilius died.
But when teai-s stained thy robe of vestal whiteness,
And gold profaned thy capitolian throne, loo
Thou didst desert, witli spirit-winged lightness,
The senate of the tyrants: they suidc prone
kl
ODE TO LIBEIiTY
1G9
Slaves of one tyrant. Palutinus sighed
Faint of'hoes of Ionian song: that tone
Thon diilst dolay to hear, lunicnting' to disown.
105
70
SO
95
VIII
"From wliat Ilyrcanian glun or frozen liill,
Or piny promontory of the Aretic main,
Or ntmost islet inaceessible.
Didst thon lament the rnin of thy reign,
Teaehing the woods and waves, and desert roeks, 110
And every Naiad's iee-eold nrn,
To talk in eehoes sad and stern.
Of that subliniest loi'e which man had dared nnlearn?
For neither didst thou watch the wizard Hoeks
Of the Scald's dreams, nor haunt the Druid's
sleep. 11")
What if the tears rained through thy shattered locks
Were quickly dried? for thou didst groan, not
weep.
When from its sea of death to kill and burn,
The Galilean serpent forth did creep.
And made thy world an undistinguishable heap.
IX
"A thousand years tlie Earth cried, AVhere art thou?
And then the sliadow of thy connng fell
On Saxon Alfred's olive-cinctured brow:
And many a warrior-jieojiled citadel.
Like rocks whicli fire lifts out of the flat deep, 125
Arose in sacred Italy,
Frowning o'er the tempestuous sea
Of kings, and jniests, and slaves, in tower-crowned
majesty :
That multitudinous anarchy did sweep
And burst arounil their walls like idle foam, 130
I
170
OhK TO Lir.EnTY
^\ InUt fr.Mii the liiiiiiaii spirit's dcopr^st dcop,
Straii-c niel.Mly with l..vu and awe stni.^k dmnl)
I)i-..r]aiit anus; mid Art. wliicji caniiot die.
U itli divine wand ti'accd on „ur cartldy liome
I' It imagery to p;ive lieawirs everl.tstiii"" do
line.
13-)
X
110
"Tliou liiuitress swifter tiian tlie Moon! tlioii terror
Of tli<. world's wolves! ihoii l)oarer of the (piiver,
Wliose smdike shafts pieree tenipest-win-^ed Error,'
As light may pieree the clouds \\\wn they dissever
In the calm regions of the orient day I
Luther caught thy wakening glance:
Like lightning from his leaden laiiee
Ivetleeted, it dissolved the visions of the trance
In which, as in a tonil), the nations lav;
And Kngland's prophets hailed thee as their
(]ueeii.
In songs whose niusie cannot ])ass awav,
Though it must flow for ever: not unseen
Before the spii-it-sighted countenance
Of Milton didst thou ])ass, from the sad scene 119
Jieyond whose night he saw, with a dejected mien.
144
XI
"Tile eager hours and unreluctant years
As on a dawn-illumined mountain stood,
Trampling to silence their loud hopes and fears,
Daikening each other with their multitude.
And erird aloud. Lihertv ! Lidignation
Answered Pity from her cave :
Death grew ])ale within the grave.
And I )e-;iiliti.in Il/l^,•L,,l i-.. .1., .1 .i... ^^ „t
U hen, like h.'aven's sun girt liy the exhalation
IfjS
ODK TO LIllEnTY
171
Of its own f^lorioiis lii;lit, llioii didst arise, IC.u
riiasini;- tliy foes from natioti unto nation
Like shadows: as if day liad cloven the skies
At dii'aniiny midnight o't-r tiie western wave,
Mm stalled, srai;;;crin^' with a ^hid stii'prise,
Tnder the lightnings of thine unfamiliar eyes. If..')
XII
"Thou heaven of uarth ! what spells could pall thco
tlu'U,
In ominous eclipse? A thousand years,
Ured from the slime of deep oppression's den,
Dyed all thy liipiid light with blood and tears,
Till thy sweet stars could weep the stain away; 170
ilow like IJacchanals of blood,
Kound France, the ghastly vintage, stood
Destruction's scej)tred slaves,and Folly's mitred brood!
When one. like them, but migiitier far than they.
The Anarch of thine own bewildered powers, 175
Kose : armies mingled in obscure array.
Like clouds with clouds, darkening the sacred
bowers
Of serene heaven. He. by the past pursued,
J^ests with those dead but unforgotten hours,
Whose ghosts scare victor kings in their ancestral
towers. isu
XIII
'• Kngland yet sleeps : was she not called of old ?
Spain calls hei' now, as with its thrilling thunder
Vesuvius wakens . Ikna. and the cold
Snow-ciags by its re{)ly are cloven in sunder:
V '■ or tiio iir vvriVfi l-vciv xi>oii;iii isie i^j
I'rom Pithecnsa to Felorus
Howls, and leaps, and glaies in chorus:
» !
!'
172 ODK TO LIIiEUTY
They cry, I'o (iiiii, ye huiiiis of lieavon suspoiuU-d
o'er us !
Ill r I'liaiiis ;irc threads of i^olil, slic need hut smile
And thry diss(»lvi' ; l)iit Spain's were links of
stt.'el.
Till l»it to (hist hy virtue's keenest file. 101
Twins of a single dtjstiny ! appeal
To the eternal yi'ars enthroncnl before us,
In tiie dim West, impi'ess us from a seal,
All ye iiave thought and done! Time cannot dare
conceal. ];),-,
XIV
"Tond) of ArminiusI render up thy dead,
Till, like a standard from a watcii-tower's staff,
Ilis soul may stream over the tyrant's head I
Thy victory shall be his epitaph !
AVild i»acchanal of truth's mysterious wine, 200
King-deluded Germany,
Ilis dead spirit lives in thee.
Why do we fear or ho])e ? thou art already free !
And thou, lost paradise of this divine
And glorious world I thou flowery wilderness ! 205
Thou island of eternity ! thou shrine
Where desolation, clothed witli loveliness.
Worships the thing thou wert I O Italv,
(lather tiiy blood into thy heart: repress 209
The beasts who make their dens thy sacred })alaces !
XV
"O that the fr(>e would stamp the impious name
Of King into the dust ; or write it there.
Oil...
DO rii.ir tins hioL upon tiu; paL;e oi fame
W ere as a serpent's path, which the light air
OUK TO LlliFUTY
191
200
205
200
aces ! y
173
215
l-lr;is('s. and tlie fiat sands close heliiiid !
Vc tlie orai'le have Iicai'd :
Lift the vi('t(>i-y-fl;isliini,f sword.
And cut tlic snaky knots of tliis foid ;;i)i'dian word,
Wliicli. wenk itself as stiihltle. yet can hind
Into a mass, irn'fr:iL:ahly (inn 220
The axes and the rods which awi; mankind ;
The sound has ])oisoi\ in it; 'tis the sperm
Of what makes life foul, caidverous. and alihorred ;
Disdain not thou, at thine aiipoiutcd term, 22t
To set thine armed heel on this reluctant worm.
XVI
"O that the wise from tiuir hri^ht minds would klndlo
Such lamps within the dome of this dim woi'ld.
That the ])ale name of PiilKsx might shrink and
dwindle
Into the hell from which it iirst was hurled,
A scofT of impious j)ride from fiends imjmre ; 230
Till luiman thoughts miL;ht kneel alone,
Each before the judgment-throne
Of Its own aweless soul, or of the ])()wer niduiown !
O that the words which make the thoughts obscure
From which they spring, as clouds of glimmerinj^
dew ■ 2:5-,
Fi-om a wliite hi' c Mot heaven's Mue pf)i'traittire.
W. re stri|)t of their thin masks and various
hue.
And frowns and smiles and s))lendours not their own,
Till in th<' nakedness of false and tiaie
They stand before their Lord, each to receive its
iil*
i(
due !
240
174
i>!>i: To LUiKlUY
\\\l
" III- ulio t.'iiiglit in;in to vaiKiuish whatsoever
Can '.>: '»t't\veeii tlit> rradlc and the "-lavt'.
CiowiitMi iiiiii tilt' K'wvj^ of Life. () vain iMulcavour !
It oil Ills owii liii^li will, a wjlliiio- slave, ju
lie has eiithroiiL'd the oppression and tlie oppressor!
\Vhat if earth can eiotlR; and feed
Aii.plest millions at their neeil,
And power in thon^ht he as the tree within the seed ?
Or what if Art, an ardent intercessor.
Driving; on iiery wiiij,r.s to Natures throne, 2.")()
Checks the i;reat mother stooping to caress her,
And cries, (iive nie, thy child, dominion
Over all hei-ht and depth ! if Life can hreed
New wants, ami wealth from those who toil and
'^nvAw, j.v,
lieiid, of thy i;ifts and hers, a thousandfold for
one
XVIII
" Come thou, hut lead out of the inmost cave
Of man's deep spirit, as the morning-stur
l>i'ek()iis the sun from the Loan wave,
^^ isdom. I hear the j)ennons of her car
Self-movinii', lil^c cloud charioted by flame ; liOU
Comes she not, and come ye not,
Kulers of eternal thought,
T(^ judge with solemn truth life's ill-apportioned
lot, —
r>lind Love, and ecpial Justice, and the Fame
Of what has heeii, th.' 1 lope of what will he ? 2{'ui
O, Liheity! if such could he thy name
>\ ert thou disioiiied fruin tlii'se. (>•• thev fr;ii!!
thee ;
Till: .SA.V>//71 A ILA.M
175
'i{
.'GU
¥
1
If tliiiio or tlu'irs wen; trcusiirc^ to be boiiu'lit
1)V l)l()i)(l (»r toars, liavc not the \sise ami fn-o
Wept tears, and hlood like tears'" — The solemn
harmony
XIX
l*;msetl. and the spirit of that mighty singing
To its al)yss was suddenly withdrawn :
riien as a wild swan, when suhlimely win^ini;
Its path athwart the thnnder-sinoke of dawn.
Sinks iieadlon;^ thn)UL,di the aiirial golden light -7.')
On the heavy-sounding ])lain.
When the holt has j»iei(;ed its hiain :
As summer clouds dissolve, unburdened of their rain;
As a far taper fades witli fading night;
As a bi'ief insect dies with dying day, — -SU
Mv sonir. its i)inions disarrayed of nii<,dit.
Drooped ; o'er it closed the echoes far away
Of the jrreat voice which did its flight sustain,
As waves which lately paved his watery way
Hiss round a drowner's head in their tempestuous
play. 285
1.S20.
THE sENsrrivp: i'lant
I'VRT I
A Sensitive Plant in a garden grew,
And the young winds fed it with silver dew,
And it pened its fan-like leaves to the light,
And closed tliem beneath the kisses of night.
,1'
Ml
it
And the Snvln'j .irosft on tlie jifarden fair.
Like the Spirit uf Love felt everywhere ;
' ^ I
170
T//A- SKSSITIVK I'l.A.ST
Ami v.u-h flower ami licil) on cartirs dark breast
Kosf tnnii tin- (Ir.aiiis of its wint: rest.
I'>iit noiu! ever tr.'iiiMcd and pantrd with bliss
In till' ■^^•^■drn, tli.- 11. id. <m- tlic wild.rncvs, m
Like a doi' in the noontide with love's sweet
want,
As the coMipanic.nless Sensitive Tlant.
The snowdrop, and then the violet,
Aros.' from tiie ^'roimd witii warm rain wet, 11
And their liiiath was mixed with fresh odour,
sent
From the tuif, like the voiet; ant," the instrument.
Ihen the pied wind-Howers and the tulip tall,
And nareissi, the fainst amon«;- them all,
"\\ ho .;azf on their eyes in the stream's recess
Till they dit; of their own dear loveliness, 20
And the Naiad like lily of the vale,
^\ horn youth malces so fair and jiassion so })ale.
That the liu:ht of its tremulous ludls is seen
Thro'ii;)! their pavilicms of tender «M-een :
And the hyacinth, puride, and white, and l.luc, 2.5
Whirl) tlunu- <!• .m its hflls a sweet ])eal anew
(H tmi>ic so <l(dicate. '^oft-. and intense.
It was felt like an odour within the sense ;
And the rose like a nymph to the hath addrest, 29
AVhieh unveiled the dej)th of her -flowing breast,
I ill, told after fohl, to the faint!!!" :'.!r
The soul of her beauty and love lay bare ;
TiiF si:\smvK ri..\.\T
A\u\ tin- waiul-likf lily, w'sicli liftnl iij),
A'- .1 M;i'ii;ul, it-- iini(»iiliL;lit-('nloiiit(l ciii),
'1 ill tiir licrv star, uliicli i> its t'\i',
(i;i/'(l tliniiiyli clear dfw on ilie tfiidrr sky;
177
35
Ami the jessriiniiic faint, aiul tlic sweet tuberose —
riic sweetest flower tor >('eiit that Mows —
Aii'l all lare blossoms from every < lime,
(irew ill that ganlun in ptri'cet prime. 40
And on the stream wliose inconstant l)osotn
\\ as prankt, under houghs of eud)owerin;j; hlossom,
\Vitli ;;dlden and <,Mceii li.t;ht, slant ini; tlirouj^h
Their heav' of many a tangled hue,
' n
20
i>road waterdilies lay ti-enmloiisly, 45
And starry river-hiids glinimcri'd by.
And ai-oniid them the soft stream did glide and
dance
With a motion of sweet sound and rivdiance.
And the sinuous jjaths of lawn and of moss,
Which led through the garden along and across, 50
Some oi)eu at once to the sun and the breeze,
Some lost among bowers of bk)ssoming trees,
"Were all ]»aved with daisies and dedicate bells,
As fair as the fantous asphodels,
And How'rets which, droojiing as day droo])ed too, ."),")
IVU into ])avilions, white, ]nir]do. ai ] blue.
To roof the glow-worm from the evening dew.
And from this undetiieci i'aradiso
T)ie flowers (as an infant's awakening eyes
Ti
178
THE SENSITIVE PLANT
t
! 1
! :
i!
Smile on its mother, wliose sinq;ino; sweet 60
Ciin first lull, iind at last must awaken it),
AVIicii Ilcaveirs l)]itlie winds liad unfolded them
.\s mine-lamps enkindle a hidden i^em.
Shone smilini;' to lli-aven. and every one
Sliare<l joy in the light of the gentle sun ; 65
For each one was interpenetrated
AVith the light ami the odour its neighbour shed,
Like young lovers whom youth and love make dear
AVrapt and tilled by thtiv nuitual atm()sj)here.
But the Sensitive Plant, which eeuld give small
fruit 70
Of the love which it felt from the leaf to the root,
Iveceived more than all, it loved more than ever,
Where none wanted but it, could belong to the giver;
For the Sensitive Plant has no bright f^ nver:
Kadiance and odour are not its dower; 75
It loves, even like' Love, its deep heart is full ;
It desires what it has not, the Beautiful !
The light winds, which from unsustaining wings
Siied the music of many murmeriuijs :
The beams which d.nt from many a st^r 80
Of the tl;)wers whose hues they bear afar ;
The plumed insects swift aiul free.
Like golden boats on a sunny sea.
Laden with light and odour, which pass
Over the gleam of the living grass ; 85
THE SENSITIVE PLANT 179
Tlio nnsoon elands of tlio dew, wliicli lio
Like iiio in the ilowers till the sun rides lii^li,
'llicn wiindt'i- like spirits ainoni^- the s])h(M-('S,
l".:i('h cloud faint with th(! fr:i"r:uu,'e it hears;
111
The (luivrriiHj^ va])onrs oi dim noontide,
"Which like :i sea o'er tlie warm earth Ljlide,
111 wliich every sound, and odour, and heam,
Move, as reeds in a single stream ; —
90
Each and all like ministering; angels were
For the Sensitiv(' Plant sweet joy to hear, 95
AVhilst tlie lagging Iiours of tlie day went by
Like windless elouds o'er a tender sky.
And when ;jvening descended from Heaven above,
And the Earth was all rest, and the air was all h>ve,
\nd delight, though less bright, was far more deep,
.vnd the day's veil fell from the world of sleep, lUl
And the beasts, and the birds, and the insects were
drowned
In an oeean of dreams withont a sound,
"Whose waves never mark, though they eve'- impress
The light sand whieh ])ave3 it, eonsciousness ; 10">
(Oidy overhead the sweet nightingale
I'.ver sang more sweet as the day might fail.
And snatches of its Elysian chant
AVere mixed with the dreams of the Sensitive Plant.)
The Sensitive Plant was the earliest
r])gathered into the bosom of rest:
110
^V aWeut eiiiiii Vi'eary ui ii.i
/
fl
i I
1 I
! (
(II
180
THE sEysrnvE plant
The feeblest and yet the favourite,
Cradlud witliin the embrace of night.
I'AUT II
There was a Towmm- in tliis sweet jilaee, IIS
An Kve in tliis Edt- ii ; a ruUn<;- ^ract;
^Vliich to the Howcrs, did they waken or (h'eani,
AVas as God is to the starry scheme :
A Lady, the wonder of her kind,
"Whose form was upborne by a lovely mind, 120
AVhich, dilatin;:^, had moulded her mien and motion
Like a sea-flower unfolded beneath the ocean,
II
Tended the jjardeii from morn to even :
And the meteors of that sublunar heaven,
Ijike tli(! lamps of the air when nioht walks forth, 125
Laughed round her footsteps up from the Earth !
She had no companion of mortal race,
]?ut her tremulous breath and her flushing face
Told, whilst the morn kissed the sleep from her
eyes.
That her dreams were less shuuber than Paradise : 130
As if some bright Spirit for her sweet sake
1 lad deserted heaven while the stars were awake.
As if yet around her he lingering were,
Tliough the veil of daylight concealed him from her.
ller step seemed to i)ity the grasr> it juest;
You might hear, by the heaving of her breast.
That the coming and going of the wiml
Brought pleasure tliere, and left passion behind.
135
\'\
THE SENSITIVE PLANT
181
And wherever lier airy footstep trod,
IKr trailiiifj hair from the f;:russy sod 140
Krast'd its li,L;lit vestij,^', with shadowy sweep,
Like a sunny storm o'er the dark green deep.
I doubt not tlie Howers of that garden sweet
Kfjoieed in the sound of her gentle feet;
I »ioid)t not tliey fidt the spirit that came 145
From her growing fingers through all their frame.
She sprinkled hright water from the stream
On those that were faint with the sunny beam;
And out of the cups of the heavy flowers
She emptied the rain of the thunder-showers.
150
155
She lifted their heads with her tender hands,
And sustained them with, rods and osier bands;
If the flowers had been her own infants, she
Could never have nursed them more tenderly.
And all killing insects and gnawing worms,
And things of obscene and unlovely forms,
She bore in a basket of Indian woof.
Into the rough woods far aloof, —
In a ])asket, of grasses and wild flowers full,
The freshest her gentle hands . ould i)ull
For the poor banished insects, whose intent,
Althousxh thev did ill, was innocent.
But the bee. and the beamlikc ("iihemcris
Whose path is the light-.ing's. and soft moths that kiss
The sweet lips of the flowers, and harm not. did she
.... T , 11 1 r.a
Make iier aLu-ini.uii angt-i.^ nr.
160
il
/
li
I!
II
182
THE SE.\SJTnL- I'LANT
And iiiuiiy uii antenatal tomb,
AN here hutttTtlies dn-ain of the life to come,
She li'ft clinnini;' ronnd the .sniot>th antl dark
Edge of tlie odorous cechir bark. 170
Tlii.s faiii'st creature from earliest spi'ing
Tims moved through the garden miinsteriiig
All the sweet season of summer tide,
And ere the first leaf Ljoked brown — she died !
r.WT III
Three days the flowers ol Jie garden fair, 175
Lik(^ stars when the moon is awakened, were,
Or the waves of Uaia-. ere luminous
She Hoats up through the smoke of Vesuvius.
Ami on the fourth, the Sensitive Plant
Felt the sound f the fum-ral chant, ISO
And the steps of tlic boareis, heavy and slow,
And the sobs of the mourners, deep and low ;
The weary sound and the heavy breath.
And the silent motions of })assing death,
And the smell, (.-old, opjjressive, and dank, 186
Sent through the pores of the colHn plank.
The dark grass, and the flowers among the grass,
AVere bright with tears as the crowd did pass;
I'rom their siglis the wind caught a mournful tone,
And sate in the [»ines, and gave groan for groan. lUO
Tlie gai'dcn, once fai;, became cold and foul,
I-ilvr the roi'|)se of Ik i' who liad been its .-.oul :
\\ hicli at tir^t was lovely as if in sleep,
THE SENSITIVE I'LAST
183
170
175
Then slowly changed, till it grew ;i heui)
To make men tremble who never weep. 1''5
Swift summer into the autunni flowed,
And frost in the mist of the morning rode.
Though the noonday sun looked clear and bright,
Mocking the spoil of the secret night.
The rose-leaves, like flakes of crimson snow, 2l)U
I'aved the turf and the moss below.
The lilies were droo|)ing, and white, and wan,
Like the head and the skin of a dying man.
And Indian plants, of scent and hue
The sweetest that ever were fed on dew, liU5
Leaf after leaf, day after day.
Were massed into the connnon clay.
IcSO
185
I'JO
And the leaves, brown, yellow, and gray, and red,
And white with the whiteness of what is dead,
Like troops of ghosts on the dry wind i)ast ; JIO
Their whistling imise made the birds aghast.
And the gusty winds waked the winged seeds
( )ut of their birthi)lace of ugly weeds.
Till they clung round many a sweet flower's stem,
Which rotted into the earth with them. -15
The water-blooms nnder the rivulet
Fell from the stalks on which they were set,
And the I'ddlcs dr>ve them here and there.
As the winds did Uiose of the upper air.
Then the rain came down, and the bi-oken stalks 2_M)
Were bent and tangled across tiie walks;
ii'l
/'
1*
184
THE SEysiTlVK I'LAXT
And till- ItaMoss lu'twork of parasite bowers
Massed into ruin, and all sweet flowers.
Pirtween tlio time of the wind and tlie snow,
All loatldit'st weeds l)e,ij;an to grow, 225
Whose e.tarse leaves were splashed with many a speck,
Like the water-snake's helly and the toad's back.
And thistles, and nettles, and darnids rank,
And the doek, and lienliane, and liendoek dank,
Stretehed out its lonjjj and hollow shank, 230
And stifled the air till the dead wind stank.
And plants, at whose names the verse feels loath,
Filled the jdaee with a monstrous undergrowth,
Prickly, and pulpous, and blistering, and l)lue.
Livid, and starred with a lurid dew.
And a"-arics aiul fungi, with mildew and mould.
Started like mist from the wet ground ('(dd :
Pale, fleshy, as if the decaying dead
With a sjiirit of growth had been animated!
Tiieir moss rotted off them, flake by flake.
Till the thick stalk stuck like a nnirderer's stake,
Where rags of li>ose flesh yet tremble on high,
Lifecting the winds that wander by.
235
24C
Spawn, weeds, and tilth, a lejirous scum,
]\Iade the running rivulet thick and dumb.
And at its outlet, flags huge as stakes
Dammed it up with roots knotted like water-snakes.
j\.,!] I.-)!!!' bv I'.our. wlien. the air was still.
The v;i])onrs arose whicli have strength to kill:
245
THE SESSITIVE I'LANT
185
215
At morn they wore seen, at noon they were felt, 250
At night they were darkness no star could melt.
A 11(1 tinotuous meteors from spray to spray
Cn-pt und flitted in broad noonday
I'liseen; every branch on which tlu-y alit
IJv a venomous l)li<rlit was burned and bit.
The Sensitive Plant, like one forbid,
Wept, and the t<'ars within each lid
Of its folded leuves which touether grew,
Were changed to a blight of frozen glue.
For the leaves soon fell, and the branches soon
By the heavy axe of the blast were hewn ;
The sap shrank to the root through every pore.
As blood to a heart that will beat no more.
For Winter eanie : The wind was his whip ;
One eh()i)py fingcu- was on his lip ;
He had torn the cataracts from tli'! hills.
And they clanked at his girdle like manacles;
His breath was a chain which without a sound
The earth, and the air, an(' 'he water liound ;
He came, fiercely driven in his chariot-throne
Bv the tenfold blasts of the Arctic zone.
255
2G0
2G5
270
Tlien the weeds which were forms of living death
Fled from the frost to tin; ("arth beneath ;
Their dccav ;uid sudden fliglitfrom fiost
Was but like tlie vanishing of a ghost I 275
And under tlie roots of the Sensitive Plant
The moles and tiie dormici; died for want:
k
isr.
THE SKXSITIVK rLA.XT
The Mnls (lroj)j)e(l stiff from the frozen air.
And were caui:ht in tlit; l)r:in(lies nuked and bare.
i i
I!
First there oaine (h)wn a tliawini; lain 2S0
And its didl dr()|)s froze on thr houghs again ;
Then there steanu;d n\) a frrrzing dew
"Which to the drops of tlie tliaw-rain i;re\v ;
And a northmn whirlwind, wanderini,' ahont
Like a wolf that had smelt a (lead eliild out, '2sr>
Shook the houghs, tlnis laden, and heavy and stilY,
And snapped them olf with his rigid gritf.
When winter had gone and spring eanie baek.
The Sensitive Plant was a leafless wreck ;
But the mandrakes, and toadstools, and docks, and
darnels, 290
Rose like the dead from their ruined charnels.
( ()N( I.CSION
"Whether the Sensitive Plant, or that
Which within its houghs like a spirit sat
Ere its outward form had known decay,
Now felt this change, I cannot say. 295
Whether that lady's gentle mind,
No lonu'er with the form comhined
Which scattered love, as stars do light,
Found sadness, where it left delight,
I dare not guess ; but in this life
Of error, ignornTice, aTid stiife,
AVhere noiinng is. iuit all tilings ^eeui,
And We the .-.hadows of the dream,
300
IiinCE FOli THE YKAIi
187
It is a niDili'st creed, and vet
•J8()
•js."
and
205
1*1
easan
t, if
one ('(insiders it
ao.':
300
To own that deatli itself nnist be,
Like all the res., a mockery.
That jjarden s\vtH;t, that lady fair,
And all sweet shapes and odours there,
In truth havt! never past away : 31 U
'T is we, t is ours, are changed ; not they.
For love, and beauty, and delight,
There is no death nor chan^-e : their nii;iht
Exceeds our organs, which endure
No light, being themselves obscure. 315
1S20.
DIRGE FOR THE YEAR
Okphax hours, the year is dead.
Come and sigh, come and weep I
Merry hours, smile instead,
For the year is but asleep :
See, it smiles as it is sleeping, 6
Mocking your untimely weeping.
As an eartlupiake rocks a corse
In its coffin in the clay.
So white Winter, that rough nurse,
Kocks the death-cold year to-day ; 10
Solemn hours I wail aloud
For vour mother in her shroud.
i\S iin,' Willi .111 sUl.-i itini nVV.iy'S
The tree-swuu"- cradle of a child.
n
188 TO yi(;iir
So tlic breath of tliosL' ruiU- ilays
Rocks tilt; year: — Ix caliii an
Trciiihling lioiiis ; slii; will ari o
With new love witliiii her eyes.
mild,
Jamiary j;rny i^ here.
Likt; a sexton l»y liei- ;;i'ave ;
Fi'hiiiary heais the liier,
March witli jjrief doth howl and rave,
And April weeps — -h t, () \ hoiub .
Follow with May's fairest tlou jrs.
January 1, 1821.
15
20
,
TO NIGHT
Swirri.Y waHv over the western wave,
Si)irit I '" Nii^ht '
Ont of the misty > astern cave,
AVhere all the Ion;; and lone daylicjht
Thou wovcst dreams of joy and fe.tr,
Which make thee teriiole and dear, —
Swift be thy flight !
Wrap thy form in a mantle gray,
Star-inwroiight !
lilind with thine hair the eyes of Day,
Kiss her until she be wearied ont,
Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land,
Touching all with thine opiate wand —
Come, long-souiiht !
10
Wild! I arose ami saw the dawi,. 15
I sigiied tor thee ;
When light roilr high, and the dew was gone,
snyxKT TO in'noy
189
And noon lay lit'avy on flower rniil tree,
And the weaiv Hav turned to liis lest,
I
jin<rerin'r
<e an nnloveii <r
HI
I si"liod for thee
uest.
20
Thy l>iotli('i' I>rath came, and cried:
W Ouldsf thou me ?
Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,
Murmuied lik«' a noontidt; liee:
Shall I nestle near thy side?
Wouldst thou nie? — And I replied:
No, not thee I
•25
Death will come when thou art dead,
Soon, too soon — 30
Sleej) will come when thou art fled ;
Oi neither would I ask the boon
T ask of thee, beloved Ni^ht —
Swift lie thine approaehin<;- flight.
Come soon, soon ! 35
1821.
10
15
gone,
SONNET TO BYRON
[1 VM nfraid these verses will not please you, but]
If I esteemed you less. Envy would kill
Pleasure, and leave to Wonder and Despair
The ministration of the thoughts that fill
The mind which, like a worm whose life v -\y share
A ])ortion of the unapproachal>l<', ^
Marks your creations ri-^e as t;ist and fair
As ])erfect worlds at the Creator's will.
»L .■^lil/il !.■» IIIV It ^«
To soar above the heights where others [climb].
/
II
I
'T
ij
i' I
190
TO Emilia r/r/.i.v/
Nor f;imi', tliat .sliaUow nf tlic imhoiii lioiir 10
Cast tiDiii tli(> otivioiis fiitiiir on tln' tiiiif,
A >iif ifi^ii't tor liis iiiilioiiourcd naiiio
A\ <s tlirsf words: tlic wonii lii-iifatli tlw sod
j\I 1 it^ilf ill li(>iiiaL;c of tlic ( lod.
IS:;,.
IJNKS
Fak, far away, O yo
Halycons of mt'iiuMyl
Seek Komo far calmer nest
Tliau this aliaiidoncd breast ;
No iiows of your false spriiiir 5
To my litait's winter briii;^ ;
Once liavinj;' j;oiie, in vain
Ye eome ay;aiii.
II
Vultures, wlio build your bowers
Ilij^li in tl.e future's towrrsi 10
A\ itliered lioj)es on hopes are spread ;
Dyinj^ joys, choked l)y tlie dead,
AN'iil serve yoni- beaks for prey
Many a day.
1821.
TO f:MILrA VIVIANI
Madonna, \vher(;fon' hast thou sent to me
Sweet-basil and ini_i;nonette ?
Embleniiiii;- love and healtli, which never yet
in till' ^ame wreath mii;lit he.
Alas, and they are wet I
TO
191
10
sod
Is it with tliy Ivissrs or tliy tc'in
For iifver lain nor «li\v
iicli tian'iaiK'f (111.'
\v
From i)laiit or tiowcr - thf veiy iloubt t'lidfars
Mv >a(liit'>s rvtT IH'W, 10
Thf si^lis I liivathf, the tiiirs I ^ll^(l. for thee.
Send the stars li<;ht, hut send not h)Ve to me,
In ulioni lovr evtM- nia(h'
Health like a heap of endters sooi^ to f;ule.
M.inh, l^-'l.
TO
r
I «
Mr Sir, wlien soft voices die.
V'i Urates in the nieniory ;
()(h)nrs, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they (luicken ;
10
Rose-leaves, when the rose is dead.
Are heaped for the heloveil's lied ;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
18121.
TO
Onk word is too often profaned
For me to ]>rofane it,
Quo. feelinp; too falsely ditdained
For thee to disdain it ;
One hoi)e is too like despair
F\)r ])nulence to smother,
And i'lty from thee iiime uC-ar
Than that from another.
I i !
i'l
r •■
192 TO
I can give not what men call love.
But wilt thou ac(''!'>t not
The worshi]) thu ' « lifts above
And the Heavt jcct not, —
The (li'sire of tlic i for tint star,
Of tlie niL;lit for the morrow,
The (li'votiou to soiiictliinn' afar
From the si)heru of our sorrow?
1821.
TO
When passion's trance is overpast,
If tenderness and truth could last
Or live, whilst all wild feelinj^s keep
Some mortal slumber, dark and deep,
I should not weep, I should not weep !
It were enough to feel, to see
Thy soft eyes gazing tenderly.
And dream the rest — and burn and be
The secret food of fires unseen,
Couldst thou but be as thou hast been.
10
15
10
After the slumber of the year
The WO' (Hand violets reappear ;
All thi.igs revive in field or grove
And sky and sea, but two, which move
And form all others, life and love.
1821.
15
MUTAlilLITY
193
'^;ii
10
BRIDAL SONG
The golden gates of sleep unbar
Where strength and beauty, met together,
Kindle their image like a star
In a sea of glassy weather!
Night, with all thy stars look down ; 6
Darkness, weep thy holiest dew ; —
Never smiled the inconstant moon
On a j)air so true.
Let eyes not see their own delight ;
Haste, swift hour, and thy Hight 10
Oft renew.
II
Fairies, sprites, and angels, keep her!
Holy stars, permit no wrong!
And return to wake the sleeper,
Dawn, — ere it be long.
O joy ! O foar ! what will be done
In the absence of the sun !
Come along !
1821.
15
MUTABILITY
The flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow dies ;
All that we wish to stay.
Tempts and then flies.
What is this world's delight?
Lightning that mocks the night,
Brief even a.s bright.
i'l
194 SO.WKT
Virtue, how frail it is !
Friendship, [ww rare!
Love, how it sells poor hliss 10
For proud (k'Sj)air !
But we, though soon they fall,
Survive their joy and all
Which oi rs we call.
Whilst skies are blue and bright, 15
Whilst llowers are ^ay.
Whilst eyes that eliange ere night
Make ghul the day.
Whilst yet tlie ealui hours er< p
Dream thou — and from thy sleep 20
Then wake t(» weep.
1821.
SONNKT
rOI.ITICAl. OUEATXESS
Noii happiness, nor majesty, nor fame,
Nor peaee, nor strength, nor skill in arms or arts,
Shepherd thost* herds whom tyranny makes tame: —
Vi'rse echoes not one l)eating of their hearts;
History is but the shadow of 'heir shame : 5
Art veils her glass, or from tlu; jingeant starts,
As to oblivion their blind millions tleet,
Staining that Heaven with obseeiie imagery
Of their own likeness. What are numbers, knit
I>y foree or custom? Man who man would be, 10
Mn>t rule the empire ■<" hiniselt' ! in it
Mii>.l be snprenie, e>ta.ilisliing his throin;
On van(piisl'ed will, (pielling tiie anarchy
Of liopes ami fei'rs, being himself alone.
ib21.
.1 LAMENT
195
TO-MORROW
WllKRE :ii't tlinit, beloved To-inorrow ?
NN'Ik.'II yoiiii:;- uiul old, uiid .strong and weak,
Kich and poor, through joy and horiow,
Thy sweet smiles we ever seek, —
In tliy place — ah! well-a-day I fi
We tind the thing we fleil — To-day.
Ls-Jl.
A LAMKNT
O Would: O Life! OTime!
On whose last stei)s I clind),
Tr(Mnl)ling at that where I had s«^^ood before;
^\ lien will leturn the glory of your prime?
No more — oh, never more ! 5
Cut of the day and night
A joy has taken Hight ;
Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar.
Move my faint he:irt with grief, but with delight
No m.re — oh, never more ! 10
181' i.
A LAMKNT
SwnTI.K far tlian summer's flight,
Swifter far than youth's delight,
SwifttM- far than happy night,
Art thou eouie and gone:
As the earth wiicn leaves are dead.
As the night when sleej) is sped,
As the heart when jov is fled,
I am left alone, alone.
*M't
i
I
II
1 !
i!
196 A LAMENT
The swalldw Siiimiier comrs again.
The owlet Xii^ht resuriifs her reign, 10
But the wi'tl swan Youth is fain
To Hy witli thee, False as thou :
INIy heart each day (lesir« s the morrow,
Sleep itself is turned to sorrow;
Vainly would my winter borrow 15
Sunny leavt.s from any bough.
( i
Lilies for a bridal bed,
Koses for a matron's head,
Violets for a maiden dead ;
I'ansies let my Howers be:
On the livin^ gi.ive I bea
Scatter them without a tear :
Let no fr. nd, how. ver dear.
Waste one lope, one fear for me.
20
;a
. ^£E«^.
10
AIM )N A IS
II
AX ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF JOHN KEATS
1.5
rilKFACE
'IdpjLl'iKOI' >iAf*'. UlOJI', TOT (Tor .TTOMa. (f> i pflnKrv «'5ff
Ilios Till Tin^ ^fiAe(T(Tt TTOT Rpunf, Koi'K iy.'VKtii't^n ;
Ti? 6( 0poT'K T (Tcror'To*' ai'uMtpo;, >i k p ' trai rott
* H 6oi i' tl AaAtOfTt T" (J)ttpfia»f(ii' ; fK'l'Xjyfr u & iv.
Mosiiius, I'piliijih. Flicn.
It is my intention to siihjoin to tlio London e<iition of this poem
a ciitii'isni npon tlio claims of its lamented object to be classed
amon<^ tiie writers of tlie liigliest genius who liave adorned our
age. My known repngnanee to the inirrow princiiiles of taste on
whii'h several of his earlier compositions were nnxltdled, proves,
at least, that I am an inipai'tial jndge. I consider the fragment
of Iliipcrion as secoiul to nothing that was ever produced by a
writer of the same years.
John Keats died at Rome of a consumption, in his tweiity-
fonrth year, on tlie ii3d of February, IK'Jl; and was buried in
the romantic and lonely cemetery of the Protestants in that city,
nnder the pyramid wiiich is the tomb of Cestiiis, and the massy
walls and towers, now mouldering and desolate, whicii formed
the circuit of ancient Rome. The cemetery is an open space
among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It
might make one in love with death, to think that one shoidd be
buried in so sweet a j)iace.
The genius of tl e lamented person to whose tiu'inorv I have
dedicated these unwoi'tiiy verses, was not less delicate and fragile
than it was beautiful ; and, wliere canker-worms abound, what
wonder if its young flower was blighted in the bud ? The savag(>
criticism on his Kihli/mion, which a])peareil in the Qnartirlii AV-
!•/>«•, produced the niost violent effect on his susceptible mind ;
the agitation thus originated ended in the rupture of a blood-
vessel ill the lungs ; a rajiid consumption ensued ; and tbi- suc-
ceeding acknowledgments from more candid critics, of the irue
greatness of bis powers, were inetfectiial to heal the wound thus
waiitonlv inflicted.
/
I!
i I
II
198
A DON A IS
It iii.iv !m' \v(11 siiid tli;it tlicsc whIcIkmI iiicii know not what
tlicy tlo. TlifV MMtttT tliiif insults Mtd their sluinifrs witliout
lifi'il as to \\lii till r till- |iiiis(iiiiii >li;itl lij^iits uu a iicirt niiide
callous liy many hlow^, or (uii', hki' l\cat>'s. coniiioM'il of mon;
licnctiaiilc stuf. One of tli':i a.-,.MHiatr,s is, to njy knowlidn... a
most liasi- and uiijirinriiilfd caliunnialor. As to ilmi ipnidn, was
It a pochi, whatt-vcr inij^lit he its (hi'.cts, to he triated i-oiilcnijitu-
ounIv hy those u iio had eelehrated with various decrees of eoin-
]il iceiiey and i>aiie;,'yrii', /'://■,., and 11 (;;;•(/;,. and . I Si/ridii 'I'alr,
!iud Mrs. I,efanu, and .Mr. Haiiett, and Mr. Howard I'ayne, and
a hiun; li>t ui til.' illustrious oli.^eure'.' Are tlie^e the mcu who,
in tluir vi'iial i^ood-uature. ]irisun.cd to draw a iiaralh 1 hetweeii
the Rev. Mr. .Miliiian and Lord liyron? What {,Miat did they
strain at here, after having' swallowed all liiose eaniehs? A^'ainst
what woman taken in adultery dares the foremost of these literary
prostitutes to east his opjirohrious stone ? Miserahle man ! von,
one of the meanest, ha\() wantonly defaced one of the uohlest
sjieeimens of the workmanship of (iod. Nor shall it he your ex-
cuse, tiiat, nmrderer as yon are, you have spoken da<,'gers, but
Jised none.
The cireiimstanees of the closinj; scene of poor Keats's life
were not made known to me until the KIe<,'-y was readv for the
l>ress. I am >,n\ ui to und.'rstaud that the wound whieli his sen-
.sitive spirit hail received from the criticism of /■'mh/mion was
i'xas])erated l)y the hitter sense n{ unrecpiited henclits ; the poor
fellow seems to have heen hoote<l from the staj;e of life, no
less hy those on whom he had wasted the jjromise of his genius,
than those on wImmu he had lavi.^lied his fortune and his care. H«
wa-^ accompanied to Home, and attended in his last illness hv Mr.
Severn, a youiij,^ artist of the highest j.romise, who, I have heen
informed, "almo-t ii>!;ed his own life, and sacrificed everv pros-
]iect to unwearied attendance upon his dviiig friend." Had I
known these circumstances hefore the completion of iiiv poi'm.
I shoiihl have heen tempteil toaihl my feehle trihllte of applause
to the mon; solid recompense which th.' virtimus man finds in
the rccollei'f(ui of his own moti\es. Mr. Se\iin ian'di>penM>
with a rew.ird from '-such stutl' as dreams are madi- ot." His
coiiduet is a gold'u au^Miry of the success of his future career
n ay the unextinguished .Spirit id' his illiistrions friend animate the
cr. at ions of his pencil, and plead .against Ohlivion lor his name !
.17>O.V.l/.s
lyii
I'LATi).
I
I WKKP for AdoiKiis — 111' i^ tli'iid I
Oh, wtM'p for A.loiiai.-i ! tlioii^'li our tears
Tliiiw not till- frost wliicli hinds so (lc:ir a head !
And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years
To mourn our loss, rouse thy ohseure eonijieers,
A ntl teaidi them thine own sorrow . hay
Died Adonais: till the JMiture dares
For<'et the Past, his fate and fame shall be
An echo and a liyht unto eternity I "
With nu3
II
Where wert thou, mi-hty Mother, when he lav, 10
AVhen thy sou lay. piereed hy the shaft whieh Hies
In darkness? Where was lorn Trania
When Adonais died'/ With veiled eyes,
'Mid lislenin-;- Kehois. in her Paradise
She sati', while one, with soft enamoured breath, 15
IveklutUed all the fading mehidies
With whieh, like tiawers that moek the eorse beneath,
He had adorned and hid the eoming bulk of Death.
Oh, weep for Adonais — In; is dead !
Wake, melaneholy Mothei, wake and weep! -•'J
Yet wherefore ? (^ueneh within their burning bed
Thy liery tears, and let thy loutl heart keej),
lydce his, a nniti; and uneomplaiuiug sleep : ^
\'\>v he is gone, where all things wise and fair
l)<'scend: — oh, dream not that the amorous Deep
Will yet reston; him to the vital air: -'0
Dc-.th fre.bon his murr voice, and lauglis at our despair.
■'I
200
ADOXAIS
IV
Most musical of uioiinicrs, ucop af^ain !
lianifiit anew, Urania! — lie ditd,
A\ lio was tlif Siro of an iiiiinortal strain, 30
Ulind, olil. and iontly. ulifii iiis ('(unitrvs pride
Tlif priest, till) slave, and llie liherticidc.
Trampled and moeked with many a loatlic'd rite
Of hist and hlood ; he went, unterrilit.'d.
Into the f^ndf of death ; hnt his clear Sprite .'{.'i
Yet rei<,nis o'er earth; the third among the sons of
light.
Most musical of mourners, weep anew !
Not all to that i)ri^ht station dared to climh :
And happier they their happiness who knew.
Whose taper.s yet burn through that night of time 1(»
In which suns ])erished ; others more sublime,
Struck by the envious wrath of man or God,
Have sunk, extinct in their refulgent prime ;
And some yet live, treading the thorny road.
Which leads, through toil and hate, to Fame's serene
abode. 45
VI
iJut now, thy youngest, dearest one has perished,
The nursling of tiiy \vi{l.)\vhood, who grew,
L ke a i)ale flower \>y some sad maiilen cherished,
And fed with true-love tears instead of dew;
Most musical of mourners, weej) amnv I 5
Thy extreme hojie, the loveliest and the last.
The bloom, whose pet'ds, nipt l)efore they blew,
Died on the jiromise of the fruit, is waste ;
The broken lily lies — the storm is overpast.
.i/>ov i;.s
MI
To that liiyli oapitul, where Uiii^ly Death
Keeps his pah' court in hcaiitv and tU-cay,
liOl
65
Ileeanie; and hon^lit, with piice of pnnst hreath,
A n'lave anionL;' the eternal. (nnie away!
Haste, whiU' tlie vanlt of Idin; Italian day
Is yet his iittini;' chai-nel-rool" I while still 60
lie lies, as if in dewy sleep he lay;
Awake him not I snrely he takes his fill
OF deep and li(]uid rest, foigetfnl of all ill.
VIII
He will awake no more, oh. never more!
Within the twilii;lit ehand)er spreads apace G5
The shadow of white Death, and at the door
Invisihle Corruption waits to trace
His extreme way to her dim dwellin?-j)lace ;
The eternal Huni^er sits, hut ]»ity and awe
Soothe her pale raci^e, nor dares she to deface 70
So fair a prey, till darkness and the law
Of ehann'e, shall o't.T his sleep the mortal curtain
draw.
IX
Oh, wee]) for Adonais ! — The (piiek Dreams,
The passiou-wini:;ed ministers of thought.
Who were his Hocks, whom near the liviii':;' streams 7')
Of his younii^ spirit he fed. and whom he taught
The love which was its mu>ic. wander not. —
AVander no more, from kintUint;^ hraiii to hrain,
l>ut droop there, whence they sprung: and mourn
their lot 70
Kound the cold heart, where, after their sweet p:\in.
They ne'er will gather strength, or find a home again.
202
Alios MS
■ \
II
i'i
i
Aiul
>IH' Wl
Head
th tremhliii-' liaiuls clusps Ins c
.1(1
v\n,l fans l.im with hw inoouli-I.t uin-s, :u..l cnoa :
" ( )ur l(.vf, Miir li..I>''. our s'-iiou, is n-.t .l.-ad ;
Sr.-. on til.' silken fiin-.' ..f his faint cvrs, sr.
Likr <h-\v upon :v sk'.'pin^' tlow.T, tlu-iv lu'S ^ ^^
A t.'uf soni.' Divani has l.Mwn.'.l fnnn his hnun.
Lost An<;(.'l of :i inin.'.l raiiidisc !
Sla- Uni-w not "t was lar own : us with no stain
She fa.le.l, lik.; a clou.l whi.h ha.l ontwopt its nun. OU
XI
Oiu- from a hu-i.l urn of starry ilow
Washed his li-ht lin.hs, as if en.l.ahning them;
Another elipt her profuse h-eks, anil threw
The vreath upon him. like an ana.leui
AVhieh frozen tears instea.l ..f pearls l.e,;;ein ;
Another in her wilful -rlef wouKl hreak
Her how and winded reeds, as if to stem
A un-eater loss with oie^ which was more weak:
And dull the harl.ed lire against his frozen eheek.
95
XII
Another l^plendour cm his mouth alit, l'>0
That mouth whenee it was wont to .haw the hrcath
Whieh -ave it stren-th to pier.-e the -uar.led wit.
And pass into the ])autin,L;- heart heiu'ath
With lik'litnjijsi- an.l with music : the damp death
(Ju.'m-hed rts caress upon his icy lil)s ; 1^5
And. as a dvin-- m.'teor stains a wreath
Of ,noonliL;ht vapour, which the cl.l ni-ht clips. -
It tlu,hcd throu-h his pah' liml.s, and passe.l t.. its
eclipse.
.t/>o.v,t/s
MM
Anil others fiiii
IK
>iifs a
11(1 Atli>i;itit»iis,
\V>n^
t'l
I I
i'i->ii:t~'i<in--.
,tllU Viiu:>
,1 IK
lllM'S,
2o:i
11(1
Sploiulour-, am
1 (,. ...ms, au.l grnninnui-- im-:iru;
Of 11.
Au.l
tlDllS
Dl's an
>()i low
1 tsvili-lit Fantasies,
li
I l-"fars, ail.
svitli lit-r fainilv of SiLili
Au.l I'i.'asuif
1,11,,, I Nvilli l.Mis, Ic.l l.v th.' -l.'ain
()f hn-oNM. .Ivin- siuil.' iu>t.a.l of ry.s, H'
( •„„, i,. .low 1,0,111.; -tin- n.-vi.i;' l...n.l. nn^ht ..e.M.i
Like i.agoautiy ..f mist on an aiitnn.nal stiran..
\iv
All 1... had love.l and nu.al.lr.l into tl.ought
Fioni shap.^ ami luu- ami ..dour au.l swort sound, ^
LauK-uted A.lonais. Moinin- M.u-la 1-'^'
11. .eastern watcli-t..wer, and luT hair uul..mnd,
^V.t with the tears whieli sh..ul.l ad.nn the gn.un.l,
Dimmed the aerial i-y.'s that kiu.Ue day ;
Afar the melauelioly tliumh'r moaned, ^^
Tale Oeeau in umjuiet sluniher lay.
And the wild winds Uew n.uu.l, sohWnv^ ni their dismay.
XV
Lost Eeho sits ami.l the vol.-eless mountains,
And fe.-ds her grief with his remembere.l lay.
And will no move reply to winds or lounta.ns,
(),• auu.rous birds peivhed mi the young green spray,
Or herdsman-s h.n-n, or hell at eh.smg day ;
Since she ean mimie not his lij.s. more dear
Tlian those for wlw.se diMlain she pine.l away
Intoasha.h.w ..fall sounds : --^ a drear
Murmur, hetw..eu their songs, is all the wooduieu
hear.
i:n
v.'.r,
I r
MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART
ANSI (ind ISO TEST CHART No 2
1.0
I.I
1.25
1^
2.8
m
13.6
14.0
1.4
III 2.5
I 2.2
2.G
1.8
1.6
^ APPLIED IM/1GE Inc
1653 Eos' Mam Street
Rochester. New York 14609 USA
(716) 482 - OJOO - Phone
(716) 288 - 5989 - Fox
204
ADOXAIS
i' I
ii .
4: A
XVI
Grief n:\(^.e the young Spring wild, and she tlircw
down
Ilcr Icindling Uuds, as if slic Antnnin were.
Or tht'V (h.'ad leaves : since her delitilit is flown,
For wlioni should she have waked the sullen year?
To Pliu'hus was not Ilyaeinth so dear, 110
Nor to himself Narcissus, as to l)oth
Tiiou, Adonais : wan they stand and sere
Amid the faint companions of their youth.
With dew all turned to tears : odour, to sighing ruth.
XVII
Thy spirit's sister, the lorn nightingale, 145
Mourns not her mate with such melodious pain ;
Not so the eagle, who like thee could scale
Heaven, and could nourish in the sun's domain
Her mighty youth with morning, doth com])lain,
Soaring and screaming round her emi)ty nest, 150
As Albion wails for thee : the curse of Cain
Light on his head who pierced thy innocent breast,
And scared the angel soul that was its earthly guest !
XVIII
-^h woe is me I Winter is come and gone,
But grief returns with the revolvinuf vear : l^r)
The nirs and sti'eams renew their joyous tone;
The ants, the bees, the swallows. I'eappear ;
Fresii leaves anil flowers deck the dead Seasons' bier ;
The amorous birds now pair in everv brake.
And build theii' mossy homes in iield and brerc : IfiO
And the green lizai'd, and the golden snake.
'Hi
ADOXAIS
205
XIX
Througli wood and stream and field and liill and
Ocean
A (inii'kenini;- life from the Eartli's lieart lias burst,
As it has ever done, with chani^e and motion, 105
Fi'om the great morning of the world when lirst
(lod dawned on Chaos: in its steam immersed,
The lami)S of heaven Hash with a softer light;
All baser things i)ant with life's sacred thirst.
Diffuse themselves, and s])end in love's delight 170
The beauty and the joy of their renewed might.
XX
The leprous oorjise, touched by this s])irit tender.
Exhales itself in flowers of gentle breath ;
Like incarnations of the stars, when s})lendour
Is ehangcnl to fragrance, they ilhunine death, 175
And mock the merry worm that wakes beneath.
Naught we know, dies. Shall that alone which
knows
Be as a sword consumed before the sheath
By sightless lightning? — th' intense atom glows
A moment, then is quenched in a most cold repose. 180
XXI
Alas! that all wo loved of him should be.
But for our grief, as if it had not been.
And <n'ief itself be mortal I Woe is me!
Whence are we, and why are we? of what scene
The actors or s])ectators? CJroat and mean ISf)
Meet massed in death, who leiuls what life must
borrow.
^^c li!!!.r ;.s ski'.'s iivc l>!uc-. .aud fi(dds are green.
1 1
HI'S
w
u^.
^i
20G
.\i)oy.iis
Kvou'iw'j; iiuist iislicr iiiglit, iii^Iit nri;o tlio morrow,
Mouth follow luoiitl; with woe, uml year wake year to
sorrow.
XXII
J/i will awake no more, oh, never morel I'JO
"Wake thoii," cried Misery, "childless Mother,
rise
Out of thy slee]), and slak(!, in tliy heart's core,
A wound more llerce than his, with tears and
sin'hs."'
And all the Dn^ams thnt watched Urania's eyes,
^\nd all the Kchoes whom their sister's son<r 195
Had held in holy silence, cried : " Arise I"
Swift as a thouc^ht hy the sniike Memory sttmj;'.
From her anihrosial rest the fading- S[)lendour si)rung.
XXIII
She rose like an autumnal Night, that springs
Out of the East, and follows wild and drear 200
The golden Day, which, on eternal wings,
Even as a ghost ahandoning a Itier,
Had left tlu! Earth a corpse ; — sorrow and fear
So struck, so roused, so rapt, Urania ;
So saddened round her like an atmos])here 205
Of stormy mist: so swt'pt her on her wav,
P'.ven to the mournfid place where Adonais lav.
XXIV
C)ut of her secret Paradise she sped.
Through c;imps and <'i:ies rough with stone, and
steel.
And human heaits, which, to her aery tread 210
1 li'lillllii' lliif Vl'> mill 111/) fli.i ill i>!^l I >!..
.17>O.V/l/.S
207
Palms of hvv tetuler ft'ot where'er they fell:
And harbed tongues, and thoughtii more sharp than
they,
Kent the soft Form they never eould repel, '-Ml
Wliose saered blood, like tlie young tears of May,
Paved with eternal flowers that undeserving way.
XXV
In the (leath-ehamber for a moment Death,
Shamed by the })resenee of that living Might,
IMushed to annihilation, and the breath
Kevisited those lifts, and life's pale light --0
Flashed through those limbs, so late her dear de-
light.
"Leave me not wild and drear and comfortless,
As silent lightning leaves the starless night !
Leave me not I " ei .ed Urania: her distress
Housed Death: Death rose and smiled, and met her
vain caress. -->^
XXVI
" Stay yet awhile ! speak to me once again ;
Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may live ;
And in my heartless breast and burning brain
That word, that kiss, shall all tlioughts else survive.
With food of sathlest memoiy kept alive, 2:50
Now thou art dead, as if it were a part
Of thee, my Adouais! I would give
All that I am to be as thou now art!
l>ut I am ehained to Time, and cannot thence depart!
X \ \ 1 1
"O irentle child, beautiful as thou wert, 23r»
w-i...
7T ::_)
K.I,,* ft 1,,
♦ Iw. ♦••iwlil..ll Htltll«< l\( IllPTl
!!
208
ADONAIS
II
,1 I
Too soon, and with weak hands though niiglity
lioart
Daro tilt' nn{)asturod drai^on in lii^ den?
Defenceless as thou wcit, oh, where was then 239
AVisdoni the mirrored shield, or scorn the spear?
Or hadst thou waited the full cycle, when
Thy s])irit should have filled its crescent sphere,
The monsters of life's waste had tied from thee like
deer.
XXVIII
" The herded wolves, Ixdd only to pursue ;
The obscene ravens, clamorous o'er the dead ; 245
The vultures, to the eoiKiueror's banner true,
Who feed where Desolation first has fed,
And whose win<;s rain conta<;ion ; — how they fled,
"When, like Apollo from his golden bow.
The Pythian of the age one arrow sj)ed 2r,Q
And smiled I — The spoilers tempt no second
blow,
They fawn on the i)roud feet that spurn them lying
low.
XXIX
"The sun conies forth, and many re])tiles spawn;
He sets, and eaeli ephemeral insect then
Is gathered into death witliout a dawn, 255
And the inunortal stars awake again.
So is it in the woi'ld of living men :
A godlike mind soars forth, in its delight
Making earth bare and veiling heaven, ami when
It sinks, the swarms that dimmed or shared its
light 2(iO
jueave Lo its kindred lamps tlie spirit's awful night."
ADONAIS
200
XXX
Thus ooased slic : and tlio iiionnt;iin sliojihords came,
Tlieir garlands sere, tlieir niaj;i(' mantles rent ;
The Pilgrim of Kteruity, whose fame
Over his living head like Heaven is Ijtnt, 2V,rt
An early hut cnihiring nionument,
Came, veiling all tlu; lightnings of his song
In sorrow ; from her wilds lerne sent
The sweetest lyrist of her saddest wrong,
And love taught grief to fall like music from his
270
tongue.
XXXI
'Midst others of less note, came one frail Form,
A phantom among men, companionless
As the last cloud of an expiring storm,
"Whose thunder is its knell ; he. as I guess,
Had gazed on Nature's naked loveliness, 275
Actaion-like, and now he fled astray
With feehle steps o'er the world's wilderness.
And his own thoughts, along that rugged way.
Pursued, like raging hounds, their father and their prey.
XXXII
2S0
A pard-like Spirit heautiful and swift —
A Love in desolation masked: — a Power
Girt round with weakness: — it can scarce uplift
The weight of the superincumbent hour •,
It is a dying lamp, a falling shower,
A bre;iking billow: — even whilst we speak 285
Is it not broken ? On tlie withering flower
The killing sun smiles brightly : on a cheek
The life can burn in blood, even while the heart may
break.
It'
, I
■:,
I i
. i
f
210
A DON A IS
XXXIII
His head was hound with j):uisi('s ovcM'blown,
Auil tiided violt'ls. white, and l)i<'d, aiid hhio ; 200
And a li^lit spear to))|)cd with a cyprt'ss ('(Jiie,
Ikiiund wliose ruch' siiaft (hiil; ivy-trt'ssi's j^tow
\ ct (iiippinj;- with the forest's noon(hiy dew,
Vihrated, as tlie ever-heatin^• heart
Shook tlie weaic hand that ;;ras])ed it: of tliat crew
I h' canK^ the hist, nei;lected and apart ; '2'.H)
A lierd-ahandoned deer, struek hy the hunter's dart.
XXXIV
All stood aloof, and at his partial moan
Smiled thron;^li their tears : well knew that gentle
l)and
Who in anctthers fate now wept his own ; 300
As in the acc^ents of an unlcnown land
lie si\n<f new sorrow : sad Uraiua seanned
The Stranger's mien, and murmured: "Who art
thou?"
lie answered not, hut witli a sudden hand
Made hare his hranded and ensan<;uined hrow, 305
Whieh was like Cain's or Christ's. — Oh I that it shonld
be
so
XXXV
What softer voice is hushed over the dead?
Athwart what hrow is that dark mantle thrown?
What form leans sadly o'er the white death-bed.
In mockci'v of monumental stone, 310
The heavy heirt heaving without a moan?
If it l)e He, who, gentlest of the wise.
Taught, soothed, loved, honoured the departed one;
Let me not vex, with inliarnionious sigtis.
The silence of that heart's accepted sacrifice. Sl.'i
\ • '^
A DO y A IS 211
X X X \- 1
Our Adonais lias diniik ])()i>on — oh,
^^'ll;lt (leal; iiiid viptMiiiis iiiiirdt'iri' coidd crown
Lite's cailv cup with such ;i dr:mi,^Iit of woe?
Tile iiaiMclos worm would now itself di^owu :
It felt, yet eoidd escape the niai^nc touc ;?-'o
\Viios»! pn ludo iitdd all envy, hate, and wrong,
P)ut what was howliiii;' in one breast ahine,
Silent with expectation of the souLf,
Whose master's hand is cold, whose silver lyre un-
strung;'.
325
RHO
XXXVII
Live thou, whose infjuny is not thy fame!
Live I fear no heavier chastisement from me,
Thou noteless blot on a remend)ered name!
But be thyself, and know thyself to be !
And ever at thy season be thou free
To s\n\\ the venom when thy fant^s o'erflow :
Remorse and Self-contempt shall ding to thee ;
Hot Shame shall burn upon thy secret brow,
And like a beaten hound tremble thou shalt — as now.
XXXMII
Nor let us weep that our delight is fled
F,-vr from these carrion-kites that scream below; 33')
He wakes or slecj^s with the enduring dead ;
Thou canst not soar where he is sitting now.
Dust to the dust ! but the pure spirit shall flow
]?ack to the bui'ning fountain whence it came,
A portion of the Eternal, which must glow 310
Through time and change, unqueuchahly the same,
Whilst thy cold embers choke the sordid hearth of
shame.
m
212
AlfNMIt
I'*'
IV'I '
X X \ I X
Pr;ic(>. pcaoo! lin is not (U'.ul. he doth not sleep —
III' li.itli :i\v:iUen<'(I from tlio dioain of lift; —
"V is we, wlio, lost ill stoi-niy visions, krcj) ?,\Ti
W \\\\ |)li;iiitoins ;in unprolitiiltlc strife.
And ill iiKid triiiice strih(! with our >|tiiit"s knifo
Iii\ iiIiu'ImUIl' iiotirnii;s. -- \\'r dL'cny
liikt; corji.scs in a cIiurnLd ; ft'iir ;in(l <^rief
Convnist! lis and consmiH; us day liy day, ^.lO
And cold liopes swarm like worms within our living
clay.
XL
He has outsoared the shadow of our night ;
p]nvy and caluniny, and hate and j)ain.
And that nnrest which men miscall delight,
Can touch him not and torture not again ; 355
From the contarjion of the world's slow stain
He is secure, and now can never mourn
A heart grown C(dd. a head grown gray in vain ;
Nor, when the spirit's self has ceased to burn,
With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn. 3G0
XLI
lie lives, he wakes — 't is Death is dead, not he ;
Mourn not for Adonais. — Thou young Dawn,
Turn all thy dew to splendour, for from thee
The spirit thou lamentest is not gone I
Ye caverns and ye forests, cease to moan ! 305
Cease, ye faint flowers and fountains, and thou
Air,
Which like a mournins; veil thy scarf hadst thrown
O'er the abandoned Earth, now leave it bare
Even to tiie joyous stars wliicli smile ou its despair I
ADOSAIS
213
XI. II
Ho is inude one wilh Nuluro : tlit-rc is lu'iinl
His vi)it'«' ill all luT imisic, from the moan
Of tliiindtT, to tiu! soiiu of ni^lif's s\Vf('t liirtl;
II.' is a prcsi'ncL' to lu- tVlt and known
In darkness and in light, from lierh and stono,
Spivadinj; itself wliere'er tluit I'ower may move ii
"NVliieli has withdrawn his heint; to its own :
AVhieh wields the world with never- wearied love,
Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.
{70
XLIII
lie is a portion of the loveliness
Whieh onee he made more lovely : he doth bear 3S0
His part, while the one Spirit's i)lastie stress
Sweeps through the dull dense world, compelling
there
All new successions to the forms they wear ;
Torturing the unwilling dross that checks its flight
To its own likeness, as each mass may bear ; 3sr)
And bursting in its beauty and its might
From trees and beasts and men into the Heaven's light.
XLIV
The splendours of the firmament of time
May be eclipsed, but arc extinguished not:
Like stars to their appointed height they climb, 3'JO
And death is a low mist which cannot blot
The brightness it may veil. When lofty thought
Tiifts a young heart above its mortal lair.
And love and life contend in it, for what
Shall be its earthly doom, the dead live there. 395
And move like winds of light ou uaik ana sioiniy air.
211
.iDo.y.iis
M.V
>', \
'•"'"■ inli.Mih.is of iinfullillr.l r,.,i..wi,
1^'sr Ihmm tluMr tlnoM..s. iM.ilt iM.n.n.l Mortal thought,
I'.ir III tlu" I iiaj)|.:m.„t. Cl.attertuM
400
ii<'se i.al,., his sol.-imi a,-.,.,y l,a,l i,„t
^<t fa.K',1 tV,,ni l.iiu: >lAur\, as h,,. f(.u'.|,t
An.l as 1... l-ll. un.l as 1,,. iiv..,| au.l lovvd,
."^ill.liiurly mil, I, ,.i spiiit without s,,„t,
Ai-OM.; aii.l Lucai,, in liis ,leath a|.|,rov,..l :
OU.v.oM as thry ros.. shrank like a thin^^' .vjuovc-,1. lur,
XLVI
Ami nia.iy nioiv, uhos,- nanu-s on earth are dark,
J{iit ujiosu transM.ittiMl ,.tHii..n,v .-ann-.t die
So Ion- as fin. oMtlivcs th.. pan-nt spark,
i^•s.^ rol)..(l in .la/zjiiiu- iininortality.
"Thou art Itt'coiiic as one of us." tliov crv ;
'^ It was for th...' yon kin-h.ss sphere" has' Ioul'
Sw
no
^wung hhn.l in iiiias.'cii,|,Ml iiialL'sfv
Silent alone an-.id an Heaven of S(mi..-.
Assume thy win^r^^a thr.uie, thou Vesper of our thron..-! '
XI. VII
\\ h.) mourns for Adonais ? Oh, eonie forth, ^ 15
i^ond wreteh: and know thyself and him ariHit
Uasi, with thy pantin- soul the p.-n-lulous Karth •
As from a centre, dart tliy spirit's light
Hoyond all w..rlds, until its spaeious^mio-ht
Satiate the void eirenmferenee : then slnink .|_'u
Kven to a noint within our day and ni-ht:
And keep thy heart li.^ht. lest' it make'thee sink
When li,,pe has kindled hope, and lured thee to the
•I(l()
MS
215
.\i.\ III
Or "■<> to K I', wliicll is tin; sclMllrlue,
( )li. lint ot' Imn, lull nt' uiir joy : 'l i- iniUL;lit 426
'rii.it :im'H. ciniiii s, and religions, tlu;ro
Lii; 1)111 iril ill till- ravaL,^' tlicy liavi- \\rmi<;ht;
For such as lie can h'lid, — tln-y l»oi row not
(lioi'v 1 rom tlnof who iiiaih- ihf world thrir prey:
And hi; is t^athnt'd to thr kiii-s of thoii'^lit KiO
Who wa^cd contfiition with their tiiiit/s decay,
And of the past are all lliat eaiiiiot pass away.
•110
i.-l"
XI. I\
(Jo thou to lionic, — at oiu't; the I'aradise,
The <;iave. the city, and the wilderness; l.'it
And where its wrecks like shattered niouiitains rise,
And tloweriiiL;- weeds, and fra^^•ant coiises dress
The bones of Desolut ion's nakedness.
Pass, till the Spirit of the spot shall lead
Thy f<)otstei>s to a slope of ^I'cen access,
Where, like an infant's smile, ovtr the dead 110
A li"ht of laiiuhiii'; flowers along the grass is spread ;
-l_'0
And gray walls moulder round, on wliicli dull Time
Feeds, like slow fire uj)on a hoary brand ;
And one keen pyrainiil with wedge sublime,
ravilioning the dust of him who planned 415
This refuge for his memory, doth stand
Jiike tlaiiK^ transforuied to marble: and beneath
A licld is spread. '>n which a newer batid
Have pitched in Heaven's smile their camp of dc,->th.
Welcoming him we lose with scart'e-extinguished
brealii. ^"'*
216
ADONAIS
I i
I 'J J
LI
Ilt'ie pause: t^ieso graves are all too youni; as yet
To have outgrown the sorrow which consigned
]t> cliarge to each ; and if the seal is set,
Here, on one fountain of a mourning mind,
liieak it not thou I too surely shalt thou ilnd 45^
Thine own well full, if thou returnest home,
Of tears and gall. From the world's hitter wind
Seek shelter in the shadow of the tond).
What Adonais is, why fear we to become?
LII
^ The One remains, the many change and pass; -100
Heaven's light for ever shines. Earth's shadows
f:y :
Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Stains the white radiance of eternity,
Until Death tramples it to fragments. — Die, 4(14
If thou wouldst he with that winch tliou dost seek I
Follow where all is fled ! — Rome's azure sky.
Flowers, ruins, statues, nmsic, words, are weak
The glory they transfuse with fitting truth to s})eak.
LIII
"Why linger, why turn back, why shrink, my heart?
Thy hopes are gone l>efore : from all things here 470
They have departed : thou shouldst now depart !
A light is past from the revolving year,
And man, and woman ; and what still is dear
Attracts to crush, repels to make thee wither.
The soft sky smiles, the low wind whispers near : 475
' oh. hasten thither!
'T is Adonais
calls
ADONAIS
217
LIV
That Li-^lit whose smile kindles the Universe,
Tliat lieauty in which all thini^^s work and move,
That lieiieiiiction whieh the eclipsing curse 4S0
Of hirth can (luench not, that sustaininj}; Love
AVhich, throuuh the web of bein-;' blindly wove
liy man and beast and earth and air and sea,
liiirns brij;ht or dim, as each are mirrors of
The tire for wliich all thirst, now beams on me, 485
Consuming the last clouds of cold n)ortality.
LV
The breath whose might I have invoked in song
Descends on me : my spirit's bark is driven
Far from the shore, far from the trend. ling throng
"Whose sails were never to the temi)est given ; 4UU
The massy earth and spher(jd skies are riven!
I :im borne darkly, fearfully, afar:
AVhilst burning through the iinuost veil of Heaven,
The soul of Adonais, like a star,
Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are. 495
1S21.
I iM
218
'/
LINES
A DIKGE
Rough wind, tliat luoimost loud
Grii'f too sad for soui;' ;
Wild wind, when ; -.dlen cloud
Knells all the ni^ht lonu^ ;
Sad storm, whose tears are vain,
Hare woods, whose branches strain,
Deep caves and dreary main.
Wail for the world's wrouir !
EPITAPH
Thksf, are two friends whose lives were undivided
So let their memory be, now thi-y have glided
Under the grave : let not their bones be i)arted,
For their two hearts in life were singlediearted.
18li2.
LINES
When the lamp is shattered,
The light in the dust lies dead ;
When the cloud is scattered,
The rainbow's glory is shed ;
When the lute is broken,
Sweet tones are remend)ered not ;
When the lips have spoken,
Loved accents are soon foi'ti^ot.
As music and spleiKhmr
Survive not liie lamp and the lute,
10
I
\ V
SONG
The heart's echoes render
No .song when tht; sj)irit is jnnte, —
No sonjjf but s;ul dirges,
Like the wincl throu^ii ;i ruined cell,
Or tlie mournful surges
That ling the dead seaman's knell.
219
When lieaits have oiu-e mingled,
Love first leaves the well-built nest ;
The weak one is singled
To endure what it once possest. 20
O Love I who bewailest
The frailty of all things here,
Why choose you the frailest
For your cradle, your home, and your bier?
Its passions will rock thee, 25
As the storm-- roek the ravens on high:
Blight reason will nioek thee,
Like the sun from a wintry sky.
From thy nest every rafter
Will rot, and thine eagle home 30
Leave thee naked to laughter,
When leaves fall and cold winds come.
1S22.
SONG
l-KOM "CIIAKLES TlIK FIRST
A WIDOW l)ird sate mourniiiir for her love
ITpoii a wintry bough ;
Till' fio/cn wind crept on above,
The freezing- stream below.
,i
f
tli
i^
jll I
"\ t
I
220
TO JANE
There was no leaf ujioii the forest bare,
5
No flower upon the ^romul,
And little motion in tiie air
Except the niill-wheers sound.
1.V.>1>.
TO JANE
THK INVITATION
liKST and brightest, eonie away,
Fairer far than this fair day,
Whiuh, like thee, to tliose in sorrow,
C(>nies to bid a sweet good-morrow
To the rout^h Year just awake
In its cradle on the brake.
The brightest hour of unborn Spring,
Through the winter wandering,
Found, it seems, the halcyon morn
To hoar February born ;
Bending from Heaven, in azure mirth,
It kissed the forehead of the earth,
And smiled upon the silent sea.
And bade the frozen streams be free,
And waked to music all their fountains.
And breathed u|ion the frozen mountains.
And like a i)rophetess of May
Strewed flowers upon the barren way.
Making the wintry world appear
Like oiui on whom thou smilest, dear.
10
15
20
Awav, awav, from men and towns,
To tlie wild wood anil the downs;
Where the soul need not repress
10
15
20
TO JANE 221
Its iTmsio, lest it should not find 25
An echo in another's mind,
"NVliilo the touch of Nature's art
Ilannonizcs heai't to heart
I leave this notice on my door
Foi' each acrustcmed visitor: — 30
'' I am irone into th(.' fichls
To take what tiiis sweet liour yields.
Keflectiou. you may come to-morrow,
Sit hy the fireside of Soirow,
You with the un])aid hill. Despair, 35
You, tiresome verse-reciter, Care,
I will ]Kiy you in the grave.
Death will listen to your stave.
H\]H'ctation, too, he oif I
To-day is for itscdf enough. 40
Hope, in l>ity, mock not Woe
With smiles, nor follow where I go;
Long having lived on thy sweet food,
At lenjith ^ find one moment good
After long pain — with all your love, 45
This you never told me of."
Radiant Sister of the Day,
Awake, arise, and come away!
To the wild woods and the jduins.
And the ])0(ds whei'c winter rains 50
Image all their roof of leaves,
Where the ])ine its garland weaves
Of sapless green, and ivy dun.
Kound stems th;it never kiss the sun,
"Where the lawns and ])astures be 55
And the sandhills of the sea,
'v"n iiej'c tiie MU'itmg iioar-lnol vveis
The daisy-star that never sets.
f;
ill
j
i
,1
I 'i
ooo
TO J AXE
And \viii(]-llo\v(Ts, and vioh ".,
^^ hicli yet join not st-cnt to line,
Clown the pair \r:iv weak and new;
AN'licn tliM iili;lit is Irt'i lii'liind
In the dfi'|» cast, dun mid liliiul.
And lli<! I)lnc noon is over ns,
And tliL' niullitndiniMis
J)iliow.s ninnniir al oiif feet,
^\ iioro tlie ('artii and ocean meet,
And all tliinn's socin only one.
In the universal Sun.
F'-bniary, lM'2.
TO JAXK
THK i;i:( OLLIX IIOX
Now tlie last day of many days,
All licautiful and l>rii;lit as thou,
The loveliest and the last, is dead,
Rise, Memory, and write its ])raise !
Up, do thy wonted work I come, trace
The epitaph of <;l()iy Hcd,
For now the lOavth has chan<;ed its face,
A frown is on the Heaven's hi-ow.
60
65
II
We wandered to the Pine Forest
That skirts the Ocean's foam,
The lightest wind was in its nest,
Tilt? tempest in its home.
riie whispering!; waves were half asleep.
I'he clouds were gone to play,
10
TO JASE
And oi\ tlio Ixisoin of the (loe]>
The smile of lleiiven l;iy :
It seeiiic;! ;is if the lioiir weio one
Sent from beyond the skies,
Which seiitti'i-ed from aliove the sun
A liuht of l*;ir;idise.
223
15
•JO
III
We i)ause(l an. id the pines that stood
The <i^iants of the waste,
Tortnred by storms to shapes as rude
As ser])ents interlaced,
And soothed by every azure breath 25
That under lieaven is blown,
To harmonies and hues beneath,
As tender as its own ;
Now all the tree-toj)s hiy asleep,
Like tireen waves on the sea, 30
As still as in the silent deep
The ocean-woods may be.
IV
How eabn it was! — the silence there
Vty such a chain was bound.
That even the busy woodpecker 35
Made stiller by her sound
The inviolable (juietness ;
The breath of peace we drew
With its soft motion made not less
The calm that round us grew. 40
There seemed from the remotest seat
Of tl»e widt.' mountain waste,
'y'ii flw. soft flowo!' beneath our feet,
A mairie circle traced ;
224
TO JANE
;t
A .sj)Irit; iiitorfiiscd around, 4fi
A tlirilliii;^ silent lift;,
To inoineiit.'U'v ])»'ace it l)oun(l
Our mortal nattiru's strife; —
And still I ft'lt tilt' ciMitre of
Tilt' inai;ic fiictlf tlicTo 50
Was oim fair b'onn that filled with love
The lifeless atmosphere.
We paused beside the pools that lie
Uiuhn' the forest bou^h :
Each seemed as 't were a little skv 56
(iiilfeci in a world below;
A firmament of purple light,
Wliifh in the ilarU earth lay.
More boundlt'ss than the dei)th of night,
And purer than the day ; 60
In whieh tluj lovely forests grew,
As in the upper air,
More perfect both in shape and hue
Than any spreading there.
There lay the glade, the neighbouring lawn, f>5
And through the dark green wood
The wliite sun twinklinj; like the dawn
Out of a speckled cloud.
Sweet views which in our world above
Can never well be seen, 70
Were imaged by the water's love
Of that fair forest green.
And all was interfused beneath
With an F>lysiaii glow.
An atmosphere v/ithout a breath, 75
A softer day below.
i
I
W ITU A Gl'lTAU
005
4ry
50
55
Like oiu' l)el()Vt'(l, tlie'seeiit' li:ul lent
To tlit> (lark water's liivast
Its ovt'vv It'af and liiieaiiu'iit
With iiKiri' than trutii (>xi)rt'3t,
Until an envious wind ciept l»y,
Like an nnweleoine llionj^lit,
Which from the mind's too faithful eye
Blots one dear imaj^e out.
Thoujih Thou art ever fair anil kind,
And forests ever <;reen,
Less oft is ]>eaee in Shelley's uilnd,
Than calm in waters seen.
February, 182-*.
80
85
WITH A GITTAR
GO
f,5
70
75
TO JANE
Ariel to Miranda : — Take
This slave of Music, for the sake
Of him, who is the slave of thee;
And teach it all the harmony
In which thou canst, and only thou,
Make the deliuhted spirit glow,
Till joy denies itself again.
And. too intense, is turned to pain.
For 1)V ])t(iiuissiou and command
Of thine own Prince Ferdinand,
Poor Ariel sends this silent token
Of more than ever can be spoken ;
Your guardian s])irit, Ariel, who
From life to life must still ]mrsue
i • Hix. HIT J •; •! • '-. — T-, •
Can Ariel ever find his own.
10
15
■^Il
( 1
220 11//// .1 i.L true
I'loiii I'rosjxTo's t'luliaiitfd cull,
As the mi^lity voisrs tell.
To tlic iliKiiif of Naples he
Lit voii o't'i' tilt; tiackless sea, 2f
MittiiiL;' oil, your [row Uft'ore,
Like a liviiii^j inetror.
Wlieii you (lie, the sih-iit Moon,
In her interli\nar swomi.
Is not sadder in iier cell 2A
Than deseited Ariel :
AViien yon live aL;ain i»n earth,
Like an iinsoeii star ot liirtli,
Ariel ijnides you oer tlie sea
Of life from your nativity, 30
Many ehaiiL;('s have heeii run
Since Ferdinand and you hei,Min
^ oiii- course of love, and Aiiid still
Has tracked your steps and servoil your will.
Now in humhler, happier lot, 35
This is all lenitMuhered not;
And now, alas I the poor sprite is
Ini[)risoiicd for some fault of his
In a body like a grave ; —
From you he only dares to crave, 40
F'>r his service and his sorrow,
A smile to-day, a som;- t()-iiiorrow.
The artist who this idol wrought
To echo all harmonious thought.
Felled a tree, whih; on the steep 46
Tile woods Were in their winter sleep,
lioeked in that i-epose divine
......--.,._...^ ill. •^11111;::^.
And dreaming, some of autumn past,
WITH A ariTAii 2-n
Ami sniiiu of spring- ;iii|ii();icliiiii; fast, .')()
And soiiie of April huils and slioWtTs,
Autl soiiit' of solids ill ,liilv bowers.
And all iif lovi- ; ;uid sd this tici", — •
( ) that such our (hath iiiav Im- I —
Dit.'d ill s1l'c|), and felt no pain, f).')
To liv(! ill happier tmni aL;aiii :
From which, hciicath Heaven^ fairi'st star,
Tilt! artist wroiiL;lit this loved (iuitar,
And tan:;ht it jnstly to reply.
To all who (picstion shilt'iiliy, (jU
In lannnai;t! i;cntlo as thine own ;
W hisperiiijT in eiiainoiired tone
Sweet oracles .>f woods and dells.
And siiiiiiner winds in sylvan cell-^ ;
For it had learnt all harmonies (if)
Of the ])lains and of the skies.
Of the forests and tin; mountains.
And th(! many-voiced fountains;
The (deari'st echoes of the hills.
The softest notes of fallinj^- rills, 70
Till uelodies of birds and bees.
The Minrninring of sninmer soas.
And patterinj; rain, and breathintj dew,
Anil airs of evenini;': and it knew
I liat seldomdieard inysterioiis soniul 75
A\ hicli, driven on its diurnal round,
As it floats tlironnh boundless dav,
Onr world eidvindles on its way.
All this it knows, but will not tell
To those who cannot (piestion well SO
The spii'it that inhabits it :
It talks according' to the wit
Of its companions ; and no more
I
I I
i
iri
I
2:28 Willi A (.1 iT.iii
Is licard tli;in li;is Ih-oii t't-lt ht-foro
l>\ lla)->(' who tfiiipt it to lictiay
'riu.'se Sfcict.^ of ail elilcr (la\.
l»iit, swcclly as its aiiswei^ will
Flatter liaiids ot' |ii rt'cct >Uill,
It kfcps it.-, hi^lit'st. Iiolit'st tone
J' or our liflovt'il Frifiid alone.
85
00
1
I
j
;l
i
1
\
^ V
NO'IKS
v\r,r.
I Stanzas April, 1814.
Src lMl|i.i|iHii..|i, |i;i;r<' \\\i. "'I'lir 1 i<:i 111 if ul ' St ailZilS,'
(laicil Aiiiil. Isll.' rciiil liLi' .'i t.itii:i-i,t i>l' -nrmu, llii«
Ilirili\cs III uhlch ;ir(' Mlplilnd li\ .Slirlli\> atit i(i|);ilc(l
farewell lo Hrackliell. ami In- n i nni, al I lie call ipI diltv, to !i
loveles- inline. ... it i- micm lllie.■^> ami -larle-»- iiiiihl ill llic
pdi'lll lliirlit uilli it- till l:ilieli(ii\' elili ipf life and -lreii;_'t ii;
ailil .at .-^llell 111 liiilir the !i\er i~ -Ulllllinliril III lilll iare-
Well Id a relume a.> dear a> I In - al i Ir.K I. lull w i - t" SlieileV,
and III l(i\ed lilies a.«. ;.'elil li' ;iiid dilieaii- in >\ iii| lal li\' as lie
liad liiUlid ill llailiel I'miin ille and ( ui nelia luilier." —
DdWden's f.i/f (,j sill Ih //, 1. 111.
'J To Coleridge.
••'llic |i(iciii Ik Lriniiinu'. '<•. Ihrre are s|iiril> in the air,'
was addre---ed in idea Id CnlelidLri'. wlimii In' lie\er l^lle\^ ;
and at wluise cliaraeler lie Cduld iilii\' L'Ue-- iliiperfect iv,
tlirdut;li Ills wriiimrs, and aeeniinis he iieard of him troiii
Millie wild LiK \V hilil well, lie le^'arded hi.- chaiil-'e (if (ipin-
idlis as rather an act df will tliali cdii' ietiiiii, and lielieMil
that in his inner heart he Wdiild lie hail lied li\- what Shelley
considi-red the hetler and helier asjiirat idiis df hi.-- Sdutli."
— Mrs. Shelle\-'s iiiite. "1 ha\e dfleii i |il(-l idiied whether
the IKielll . . . ha.- refeli-liee las Mrs. .•<lielle\- di'clares it
lias) to CdleridLTe. (ir uhet lier it was iidl rather addressed
in a de-pdiideiit iiidcd liy Shelley to his own s[)irit." —
Ddudell'.- /.('/( ()/ Slitll'l/. I, 17'-'.
3 'jr)-;i(). -Note the ri-feieiiees in this stanza to Cdleridiie'.s
Ifhtic of the Aiicirtif Mari/ur. — "irldrv of the iiiooii,"
"Nifiht's iihosts and dreams " "fdul lieiid." Tlie.se seuni to
iiie d|)pd-ed td Professor l)ow(kn's ei inject uro.
To Wordsworth.
Shellev's early rejiard for Wordsworth slowlv lessened.
The elder piiet, at first elofiuent Iv lilieral in his pdlitieal
utterance, ln'canie cdiiservativi' witli years, and seemed to
Shellev td lie lietrayinu his nolile.-t human impulses. In
ISI'.I .Shellev wrote his satire on Wdrdswortli, /'c/tr Bill
tlif Thinl. ('(. Ui(iwniiiL''s 77(1 /.(>.<t f^nulir.
4 A Summer Evening Churchyard.
See Introduction, pi'pe \\\v. "The summer eveninir that
.suiifiesteil to him the y>oein written in the churchyard of
I,echlade, occurred durinj: his vdy.me up tiie Thaiiie-. in
the autumn of l.Sl.'). He had heeii advi-ed hv a pliy-ieiaii
to live as nuK'h as jiossilile in the dpeii air; and a Idrtni'^ht
f.f ;i i.j.jirht warm .Iu!\' was .-iient in 'raeini: the Thaines to
its source." — Mrs. .Sliellev's note.
230
NOTES
' i
[ .S._ I. C\. T,' .\n/hf. 11. 1(1. 11.
•■' -•' •'/. Ni'ic 111.' |)o,t'- i;i.|iiriit [iiviuiiniiidiis of i-,'irly
<l''.'i''f. '^i' ' IliM'D.liui iu;i. pp. WW ali.l \l.x.
.') Lines (" The cold earth slept below ").
" IliriT c-in |)(. no L^-i'at r;i>lint>-," .-.'iv-.s I'urninn "iti
suiri:i;-!in- tliat the .-.iil,j,.ct <,i tl„. p,,riii i- il„. ,|,.,.|ii, , ,■
li;itlirl Slirll,\-, wlin ilroUIlcd hcl-cil' (,11 ihc !tlli (.1 \,-.
^•'•I"l" I', l^ll'- li: Ili.-il r::>,-. /,^/.; -ii,,! ,-,,,-, /) l,,,ir w.vr 11-. 1
.MS u (ii-.-iii>c. Ihini.'i - hair li.ivini: liccii a li-ht l.idwn "
.s Hymn to Intellectual Beauty.
ii.-i.-cd nil III,. I'latniiir 'Inciriii.' nf .Miprcnic l.cautv. .^fi'
tlic siici'ch (if Didtiiiia in I'lalo'- S /i,i /„,s: ,n„. ■■'Vlw /f'/nni
to hit, lirrtiinl Ii, ,1,1/1/ wa- cnMccivi.,! (liitiiiiT lii, \(,va"-c
rniiii,] 111,, lake witli l.dnl llvtun." .Mr-. S|„.|l,.s-'.. ni.U'.
"A I'n-, lie,.. ,„• it-; ni.liaiit wi awhil shadow, li,aiiiit.< and'
startli- and wavlavs us in all thai i- I .raiil il'iil, Mil, lime, or
luT(,ic in the \\(,rld \viihniii us , r in the \v,,rKl within; to
till.- w,. d,.d:,';,tc our p(,\\( r- in all hi-li inniiu'iits of jov or
.jiM'l'atloU; and when the cc-ta-v has sunk aiul tlu^'jov
• Ki.- Iail,(l. .-till in a calincr. jiurcr Iniip.r, it mav licroiiic
th,' li;il,it of (,ur .-(,ul to follow u;ion li,- Hack (,f 'this idea!
J.ovclin,.-s. until in a tniaMnf wr parlak" of its iiu'i"-c ''
— l)o\\d,.| ■< /.//, . II. ;il.
^ •"--■''',• .'I'l'i' I'fi'itv of li(,liii,-- and the Ik, lines., of
I'c.-iuiv ,-,iid ,<i,ln,\- l.aiiiiT, '•iiu'an (.lu' tliin<r, l.urn as one
nrc. shine a- (ilic li.'iit "
■l'.»-.")_\ Ci. A /„.•:/,„■. II. IS K).
T)!. '■|,U!■suillL^" The filial "i:" is slurivd, a romnion
practice m btth iji.daud and the ,>outhcrn St.-itcs Ci
Arrthuso II. ,-,_), ,^;V; .1/,,,,/ nianr. 11. 1()7, 1U«); Promdhvus
I tihntiH'l. 1. 1, Ki;;. 1.
10 .")!•. Cf. /V„„„//,,„., CnlM>un<l, I\' l,"):?
1 1 Mont Elanc.
Thi- pociii. like Ihr Ill/mil t<, lut,Jl,,ti(aJ Urniitu and
l.niis 11 ntl, n ,,ni,,n,/ /A, Eii,,,,,), <ni IItll.<. ~- iiulecd, like nil
oi >ii..ll,.\- > p,„.ii,. th.ii touch tiic-uhicct even rciiiotclv - -
wiiiie-M.s th,. unilv of all nature, and it.- i.leal si.niific.iiuv
■N.n.-il.le nature is l,ut a world ,,f ,-mii1,o1s iroveriU'd aluavs
i'V a .Nature heliuul ii.atiirc. 1,\- a .Min.l aiul Power
•■ lUaiiuir. scrt'.'ic .'iM.! inacccssihlL'."
"M<inl lihiiir was inspired l,v ;, view (if tli.at m,,un! liu
:indi!-surroundin-r peaks .and vallev-,a- he lin-vre,l (,n I he
l^n.-,M,l Arve-.n In- \\ av thioimh l !.,■ \'all,'V ..f ( 'hani,,uni."
_ Mr-. .>^!M'lie\',- ni,ie. ■■ It wa- c,.nip(,-e,l und,.r i he imni. -
•"■'''■ "'iP'-'-ssmtiot til.. .I.ci, aid p,.u,.r[iii h elinus esial,,!
l'\ ih," ohjecis whicli it atti'inpl- I ,, ,1,^-, , il ,. ■ aid a- ■■n
nndi-riphn,'d ..\ , rflnwinir ,,f tl'ie -.ml. ,v-i- i't . cLaim t,,
'''I','','"''-'""" .'".' 'I'l alleinpl I,, iinil.;!,. li,,. unlain.aMe
VvU.HH-- ,,:„i ni.iec-e.-sibie M,ieiuiul\- Iroiu which those
NOTES
2:n
I'MII
h,!on~Slinris,ni /lir \nl. cj ('i,,ii;,nu in . ,
|-_. |.) ,,^ 'I'l,,. til, 1, III will li"l'' l!-r liv'in"licv wilh A:.:cli
S|„l!rv :.!i.! mluT n,lil:,l!rn; |iort- l..ll.!i li,.' l.!f:i nl .-l.vp,
Si-r Inlniililfli 'II, pp- '"■■ ''•■' . , , , •; ; /
in SI). Cr. \\uu\.\\un\,> -..nnrt, l.n^jlmd niul .s,r,t:,,:(ni:l.
11 sii ■■(1:.m1:i1." ('uti(.'i-lv niadc: coiiil'l'-^: i'i"''>"it.'. N.it-
Sli.ll ■v's IniMliicss l-..r the" phras/ ■■'lir lal carlli. « '• " '
/„ / ,7,,,/'/, 1. IS: ]lii»»i oj I'an, 1. 'J(l; I'mimth (/,s ( /;/^"ini(/,
111. i, -li; IV. nC). lu;.
Ki To Constantia. Singing.
•nii> ,..,..„> ^^a.. uMvr^^vd 1o Clan, Jan.- la.rrnmy,
ruuluin's .s.rpdaual.t.r, and liu'ii.l -'t H..' >liclk-y.s. ,v,ic-
l,a.l an rx.vlU'i.t v.mcc a.ul xva> fVu-l . f .uuHcal instrum.;nt.s
tlu.'Hi hvr scn.se ..f tunr i^ ^ai ' to have Ih'^, .lcfichait_
TIk' lyric tcstitics t.) SIhIIcv'.- appnriali.in ol thu .suul ot
music.
17 .Sli. :>1. Ci. KjiipsiirJi'iUi u, 11. M.)-l.)f).
17 Sonnet Ozymandias. ,
Structurallv uncaiiun; ,il. Sc hit rn,li!ct ion. p. Kiy
Diodonis, tlic r.rcrk lii-tnvian. t.lN U> Il:at t he >t,l .K .>f
(i/'inaihiia^ wa- tlic lari:c.-t in all i:.ivpt,ana Lore the m-
^^i..'„.. to Kn,.w v.iiat 1 an, aiul wlicic 1 he l.'i hnn ..urpa.-s
inc in -onic of mv cxiiloils. ^^ . ,
S. "haiKl." The .-cuiiitor's. "heart. liichni-.s.
IS Lines to a Critic. , i i ... ,;„
This rcn.on. trance w,s doul.tl,- ,M.,vohc,l l,v t.Tt un
attacks npon the nnrevi-el I.':nn mul f ./wu,. o wh.ch :v
ewcopie.s\vcrcis,sne,l late in 1M7. In a 1, t .er of Decen, ,er
11 SheUeV wrote to hi-~ ,,nl .11- her < ('.lie-, who was ,llspos,.,l to
withdraw from the midertakin-: - 1 l»-eech vou to re-
consider the n,at.er. lor vo„v .^ake no less ,l,:mforn,v
own. .\ssnnie the hi-.h and the se<-nre crrotni<l of cotini-.e.
Tl,o people who viMt voP.r .-hop. and the wretched Ky-t
who l:ave his worthless custom to .me other iiook-Malcr,
are not the ]iul>lic."
1" Passage of the Apennines.
■ Written pn,hal.lv in the kmelv nm ;it I'letra Mala, 1 "h
in the Vpemiines. '.Mis- ( lairmonfs jo.irnal. tonehmir tins
;" peHence of the fravellers. reni.arks: •'The w,nd >.s nlway.
lii'rh and it howls dismallv. '
«». ■•lav." Used, of conrse, for "li.a" ow,n- to the a.n-
straint of rhvmi'.
•JO Lines Written among the ,'?^^«!^"^!'",\'."'^.-. ,,.,, ,, ,,,,.-,
■p,,, ,.,.,„, ••was written. s;„d .-h.'lleN , af or ,i <I.n s
oxcnrsion an.on,' those lovelv .nonntan,s -Inch snrro n d
wlvit was once the ieire.it. and \\!:<-r(- !:- !: •.: . -
of Petrarch. If a.nvonc is incline.l torond. iim the ni.-vrlion
232
XOTES
pa(;e
X
20
21
2:5
21
(if the intro.luctorv lines, wliicli ininsro fnrtli tlie suridon
n;iicf (,t :i Mate of deep (l..s|,(.ii,lciicv \,v tl„. radiant visions
diM'Inscd hv thr sudden l.nisl .,f au Italian Minris,- in
;iutniun,on tlie hi-hest |)eak of t li(..-,> d..|i-lit fnl mountain^
1 can only oiler as niv e\eii,-e. that tliev were not era-ed af'
the re(|iiest of a dear friend, witli whom added vear-^ of
intercourse ordv add to ni\- aiii)relien>i(.n of its \;i'inc an.l
who \v.,uld lia\c had more ri::hl than .•in\- one f,, eoniplain
that >lie has not lieen ahle (o evtinizui.-h in ine th ■ verv
power of dehneatiiiir sadness." The p,„.„, uas written in
liirffe p.art ;it J:ste, and. aecordinij to .\h.dwin, finished ;it
•Naples. .Mrs. Sh,.ll,.\- ur-.le of !■>(,.; "We |o,,k,.,l from the
p;irden owr the wuU^ plain of I.omhardv. I.omided to the
west l)y the f;,r .Apeimines. while to I !.,• ea.M . the hori/oii
was l(!st i;i nn'stv di-i.anc,.."
Id. -A fine evai.ipl,. ,,f arti-lic rep.tition.
» ''*^- "^y,';' ''.';■' ,"-■", -^'"^iii^' N-nuuelv, without direction;
to.^sul,■r. ( f. .\hlt. 1 s !.>,', ;<hi.-<. 11. 12 1 1: ^
••Hfll.L: (It ril.Mt lip.in JMS Ual'TX Ilic r
(.^Mwci)t, anil w.'ltcr t<i the iiarchiii^' wind,
Witliijiii the iiiccil of .-i.irui' lail.iilidiis lear."
'18. "are." -Note the error in s\nt:i\.
07. Ami)hitnt(> was the dau<;hter of ( )( "anius and T(>thvs
and uife ol .Xeptune. '
100 s,,. Coninienl on thi^ spl.ndid picture is superfluous
yet attention ni.i\- l,e .ailed to the ■• -oniantic" iiicor-
poratin.s: into n.ati-re of mandniilt .siructures. Cf Words-
'r?'''l'.'%;^""",'/ "" "''■■^■''■'^'■"^■^''- nruhj,,ainl Kmer.^on'.s
J lir f'}-i)h!rrn, II. 2") (12.
100. Tho "time" of the poem is a sini:le dav. See aNo
11. 71-7.?. 20r), 2S.-,, ;}20-;j2(). Cf. Urownin-'s r,;/,.w/„ '.s Birlh-
(Uvi .'ind I'ippa Pas.'<cx.
116. "his (pi(^.n." Prohahlv a n-ferenro to the custom
of "weddintr the .\driatie," oriij:in;ited in 1177 hv IV. pe
Alexander IIT. After the victorv of tl:e V.'iieti'an -'•allevs
over the C.hihellines, led \>y Otlio. the Pope pre.-ented the
Done Ziani with ;i rinir. comni;indin>r him to wvn the .\dri-
.'itic therewith, thus testifvintj the sea's siihjection to Venice
as her lord ;ind master.
lis. "his pre\." .\ rr.ferenc(> to tlH> apparenth slow
sinking nf Venice. TLe >tii,lent will recall the fall df 'he
ram]\anile in 1002. Professor -Marinelli, however, declares
that the northern .■\driatic is slowlv dr\iny; up, 'and (h.at
the entire (hilf of Venice will I'Ve'ntu.allv di-ajipe.ar tli(>
moan annual increase in the delta of the River Po h in"'
three tenth'; of n mile.
12:?. "Ih.. slave of slaves." Austria, then rulinn- Venice
nrif! \nrt!^-i"^- :d! ':'• Italv.
ir)2. "Celtic Anarch's." Prol.ahly another reference to
NOTES
233
PACT
Austria, llic term Celt Idiii; iicinir apjilird to tlic northcni
liarliariaiis ;is dist iIlf:^li-^lll■(l triiiii tlir li'miiali-.
2') I(i7--W.'), Slirllc\ ;nlil('i| I lii- pa^-^aL^- III I li.' Ill iiriiial inatiM-
s('ii|it. Tlif i( Icri'iui' i~, ol cdurM'. til lUiDii, wliii was tlicii
at \'(iiicc.
17s 1n;^. Ct'. v.ilh llir-c liiii'.- Sli(llrv'> niiiark in a Icticr
(() I'l'at'oc'k: "That lie is a threat jidct, 1 tlniik tlic aililir-s
to (iccaii pro\('s. "
2(1 1!(."). " Scaiiiaii'lr!-." An aiicicii' i-i\(T near TroN'.
l!»li. "(ii\inc^t Sliakfsiirair>." Slic!lc\' \\a> nunc at-
trac'ti'il liv Siiakc.-pcarc than Ia' air.dlliiT luiiih.sh wiitir.
27 22o. " lirutal Crlt." Sec note on L !.")_'.
'S.V.K ■■ l>.zt'hii." Jiz/clino (la Koniano, a ( ihiiit'lhut'
leader.
210. Cf. CoIcriiiL'c's L'i„ir ,,/■ Ihr An, i\ III Manthr, 11. I'.».")-
lltS; .Milton'- I'nnnlisr /.,,.-<f, II. HIS ,.y/.
2S 2s.")-:!n'. (■)'. with tliis coinruinirlin.r oi' ilir human spirit
witli natural phcnoincna an iinairin.at i\c haiiit of tiic lo-
iiiaiiticists — Wordsworth's Tiiilirii Ahhif/, W. '.tr)-l()-t, and
l-'incrson'.s Jiath mid All. CL al-o Aili>niii.s, l\. ',i70--',i7s.
30 '.V^'y-'.^T.^. ^v ln'rodiicli(,n, p. \l.v.
.'51 Stanzas Written in Dejection, near Naples.
".\t tliis time Shelley snlferi'd fireaily in iieallii. He l>ut
liiinseil' under the care of a ineoical man, wiio |iiomi.--'-d
preat tliini;s, and made iiim endure se\ere hodily pain,
without anv ir<'od resuhs. Con-tant and poiLcnant phy>ical
sutTeiiniz; e\liauste(l liim, and thoiiirh lie preserved the
api)earanco of oheerfnhiess, and often trreatU- enjoyed our
waiiderinjis in tiie en\ irons of .Naples, and our exeur.sioiis
on it.s .suimv sea, vr\ maiiv hours were passetl when his
thoughts, shadowed liy illiies-, liei ame ;;loomv, and then he
escaped to solitude, and in \'er-cs, whicii he hid from fear
of woiuuliiiii me, |>oured forth mor'iid hut too natur.d
bursts of discontent and sadness." — .Mrs. Shelley's note.
See Introduction, p. xli.
.■^2 as. ("f. Qunn Mnh. 11. 1, 2 ; To \i<jht, II. 22, 21; Tenny-
son's In M I'/Niirim/i, 1-vric (18, stanza 1.
X\ Lines to an Indian Air.
.\ manuscript copv of this 1\ ric was found on Shellej^'s
liod\- after his death.
11. "ehampak." I'rol.aMv jasmine.
IS. f'f. i'.pip'iilrltiduin, 1, .V.tl.
;? 1 Love's Philosophy.
In .V(-/r,s (//((/ (JiKi-if.i (Janiiarv, IS(IS') Mr. .1. II. Dixon
relati ■; this ])oein to a short I''reneli sonfr, — " I.es \-eiits
haiseiit les images. " - I'orman.
Song -- To the Men of England.
.\t an opeii-.'iir ioform incctiiiu' held in St. Peter's I'ii'ld,
several casualties had occurred. .Marmist reports irached
234
notes;
I'M IF.
Slii'lli'> ;it I,cL'li(irii, .•mil he .'it (ir-^t ;iiiticipatc(l u L'ciicnil
iMlllli-li rcvnlulinll. "Il WM-." >,i\-s |)iiA.|tn, •■|!ic l;:ir<l-
sllip- :i:ii| -.llllrlllii:- nf III, iirlii-I M,,i|^ p,,,,)- |),;,t (•.■.prcij 11 V
(•lairii'ii lii-syiiijial hv, ;iiiii he 1 :i(iUL^Iil of iiiiiilisliiiii^lni-ilicni
a M'ih'>(,f popular .-(ih;:,- wliirli slKHilil ia^piiv tin in \vilii
lii'ari and lidjic. and perhaps awaken am! ilincf t he iiiiau'iiia-
lion (il 1 lie icfdrnirr--. . . . 'i'\ir Si'iii/.-< <inil J ',i, nis fur Ihi M t n
I'j LiiiiIiukI, writtrii in jsl'.i, iTiii:.;n( i| unpnMi-lird tinlii
M'S-cral vrars aflir Slirllrs '< dcalli, win n li,.' tir-t L'lTat
l)altl(' l(ir rcloria liad liciTi IniKrlit and wim." - 1 1 . -'So-Ci.
•■;•"> '.»-l_'. In hi-, \viiiini:n(-> in hcconi-, im- il.r incnu'iit,
•I "pi'pi'lar" poft, Shclk'V has lot his im laphiirs .-hilt for
t h('ni-il\ f~.
'M\ England in iSig.
I. <lcorL'r 111 iviirm-d frnni 17(ii) lo Is'jl). Iturini: the
last icn Wars Ju' ua> Mind, deal', and iiis.iuc, ni.> i'ld(_v-t .son,
.aitdwai'd (Iriirm- l\', scrvinu' a.- I'riiieu ilc^^vnt.
'M Ode to the West Wind.
"Tiii> porni was cont-cixTd and chii'llv wiiit'ii in a wood
that - l^iit,- til,' Ai-no. near l^'iorcnci'. .and on a da\ \vh -n 1 hat.
tuinpi'-Miou- wind, who-c tcinp ■! at 'Ut is at onrc niiid and
Wi " ■ 'nLT, \\a- cciili-clinii- the \ a pour- wiiich pour down tiio
'-^ '■■•1 I'aill-. 'Ihrv l","za;i. as 1 lo:,'~aW, a! .-lui-rt, with
■'I "'It'll li'inp.-.-t of h.ail .-Mai la in . .at Irndvd liv th;i! in.urni-
licriit^ thundcr.and JiLiiii niiiL^ ixculiar to t hi ( 'isaliiiiir regions,
■■'i'lic i>hcnoiiHaioii aUudcd to at tlir conclu.- ion of ih'
third stan/,i i- w 11 knov.ii to naturali>i<. ■I'lic \i jactation
at the I'oltoin of the .-c'l, of ii\crs. and ol lake-, svinpat liizcs
with th.al of the l.and in thi- ch.inac of >ca on-,.ii]d is con-
siMiucntiv influcnwd liythe winds whic-li aiinoiiiKv it.'' —
Shcllcv's Holr.
" Hannoni/inir under a coninion idea the forre-- of ox-
teriiai nature and the p;i,--ii'n of tlie writer'.- indi\iihial
iicart, tlie stanzas, with all the peiietratini; power of ;i
lyric, have soinci hiiiji altno-t of ipic Jarj^eness and grand-
cur." - Dowden's /,//''. 11, LMli),
.■^.-iN-s Professor W. J. Alexander: "'I'he ti r:ii riimi (al'a,
Ih'I), r<\r. etc.) employed in this poem is hut little u.-ed in
i:iii:lisli poetrv. The suit,aliilit v liiTe of t!ie sl;in>;a form to
tlie theme .should 1 >e iioted. 'I'lif .series of sii.-taiiied Waves
oi feeliiii;-, each clo.-iiiLr in an invncaf ion, 'orre-poml- to the
.suspended rh\nie of eaeh triplet, re-ohed at the clo.-e of
(•;ich foru'lh stan/.t liy the couplet, v,ilh it > sense of com-
pletelie-s."
it will lie noled tiiaJ in the lil-t three sections of this
imp.a-sioued CVW tin' poet J^ui-Ues the \\i-1 Wind - .<o to
^^j'cak ,a- it iilow- o\er l.and (ii, and "'mid the -tci^p
.;,'. .; ;■ .uiui.Mirin (iii, ,iini ii|ion lite .-i,i iim, •\i lie in
the two C'lmcluding scclion.s he jki.s.scs throu.udi momentarv
NOTES
2.^')
lonirintr-: to lie liim-'lf ii'-oInimI iriio c'lch nf llic-c (i\-,
• l:! I.")i iniM .■111 .■(piiinl iioi f.ir 1 r:iii-l:it i(in, ! iMl f'l' iiniMii.
('.■lUi'l-U' :i(l\ rill Mlini; i-\r)\ ililn id^'lil ilic.-il ii .n :i~ U-i-rd dii
lllc lllllll (if III- iiWIl -|iilir- dlKilo.^ ("(lilt' t(i() like llicc")
wiih th:il (jT Ilic WcM W i.. 1: —
'• . . . I'.c tlidU. ^pir't (icrrp.
My -p;i ii I I '.!• I hi. 11 I lie, Iniiicluoii- mic' "
PiM'liMp^ till' wiiiils (if hi^ \vcll-l(i\'c(l Aril I, •-luilc nf :'ir ;inil
tire, wrvi' IkiUIi! inu' llis Ilk'llliir\ {Tin 'J\ m/i: :<l, I. LI, I'.IS,
I'.i'.l; ■_>! I, LM.'): -
"I flMin'il ainazi'iiicnt : sninoiiiiic I'll iliviilr,
Anil liiiin in iii:in\ |il:»f('>."
•• . . . till' vc~-ol,
Then all alin- with inc."
r!7 "21. '■ M:i'n:iil.'' Si'c not!- (in Tlir Snif^ifiir Plmit, 1. .''.1.
3.S 'M. l^aii was ail aiifii'iil lioiuaii city ami \vat(.'riii,i^-[ilac(.'
near Naples.
■t:i. Vi. I',;>w,t}i,ux V, , hound, IV, .')2S.
■10 Prometheus Unbound.
Siv Inl rdiluctiiHi, pp. \li. Ivii, U'iii. Jix, Ixiii. \\\y . .'iiul
Iwi. "Tlic jti'dinim'nt feature (if Slielle\-'s I'leniA' df tlic
(li'stinv of the liuinan species \va^ t!iat e\il is n ut i nhe rent
in the sv.stcin.of.tiitLiTtlutii.in, but ,ui ac'ci'i' nt tTiat iniiTiT
he expel lei 1. This also forms :i purl ion of ( 'hrist iaiiity : ( Jod
made earth and man perfect, till he, li\- hi-^ fall,
■ I'lrminht ileath into tln' w.^rM aii'l all luir win.'
SLe.llev heliev ed that maukiin,! had only tu will tluit J h erc
.should, b^uil'-' ^'^'i'l ''^'"^' liil'J'c.. wouhj 'n'. iiune.. If i- not u\y
part in thesi^^^ojes to Tintico the arirfinieiits th.at li:i\e heen
uri^ed ayi.aiiist this opinion, luit to mention the fact that he
entert.aitied it, and was indeed attached to it witli fer\eiit
cnthusiasin. That man could lie so piM'fect ioni/ed ;is lo lie
alile to exjH'l e\il from Ins own nature, and from the Lneati r
part of the creation, \v.as the cardinal point of liis >\-~(em.
And the sul>jeet \\o lo\-ed hest to dwell on \\;is the iniiL'e
of one ■warriiifi with the ];\-il I'rineipje, oppn'ssed not oiilv
liv it, luit In' a.ll — even the ;:ool, wlio were (lehlded iiilo
conside.riiiir e\'il ,a iie('e--.'ir\' iioriioii t^^ luiminilx': a \i'iim
full of fortitude and hope.'intl the spirit ef t liuinph. em. •iii.at-
iiiij: fi-iim a reliance in the ultim.ate omniiioleiiee ol ('imid.
.■^uch lie had de])icteil in his last ])oem. when he made I.-inii
the eneiiiv and the \ id iiii of tyrant^, lie imw tnoh a mure
idealized im:nr(> of the saliu' stlliject. He followed cerl:iin
classical ;int horities in fiirurini: Saturn as the K'H'J principle,
,iii|iiiei iiie ii^iU'j'iiiij; e'\ ii oin , ,i;;o fn wwi ; iicii ■ a.- ; i^' n
giMienitofj who, unal'le to hrinir mankind luick to prim-
f:
ii
23(5
NOTES
TACK
ili\r ilUH'cclirc. \\<cil klK'wIiilL'P :is ,'1 WcMpdll t(i defeat
cmI, 1.\ li^iiliu;; nL'iii!^iii(|, hfsond I'lc >tatf ulinvin ilnv
.■iiv -iiile-.- ll;riiiml] iuhoraiicc. Ic that in wliicli tlirv afc
\ irni(iii> llifiitij^li u_[>(i(,m. .Iii|ui(-r |)iiiii-.li,(l tlic Icnicntv
"f '!"■ 'I'itaii li\- cliaiiiiii'^ Liiji to a fck nf CaiicaMis, ami
cail-iliL: a Mlllitiv tu i|c'\eiir hi- -t ill-iviir\vri| hcaft. There
\va-, a li!n|ihee\- allnat in hea\cii | m irtelii liiii: the fall of
■'"ve, the >ecfet of a\eitiiiLr which wa- known oiil\- to
''""lielkelis .'lljjl Jjie ^'o<l olVeiVil ffeedfJlii from tortlin?
on colidilioii oflts Liei!JiL-t:UUJlil.iUl.kiiial.lU llilU Aceoi-d-
iliL' lo the lli\ thokiiiical >toi-v, this refeiTed to the off-prilli^
"' Mm ti-, w iio \va- destined to lie L'featef than his fat her.
i'loMietheils at la■^t lioULzht pafdol] fof 1 ii> ciillle of eii'M-h-
in_' inankiiiil with hi- i:lft>. I.y iv\-ialini: the piophecv.
Mefcuk- kill.,1 the \iiltiire, aiid ,-et hiiM ffee; and 'I'lietis
\\a- n la I lied to I'eleiH. the father of Achilles.
"Shelle\- adal>le(l thi' cala>trophe of this stor\- to liis
peculiar view-. The son f:reafer (liaii his father, liorii of the
nuptials of Jupiter and Thetis, was to dethrone l^vil, ami
hriiiir liack a happier reiiiii than that of Saturn. Froiuct hens
defies the jxiwcr of his etieniv, and eiiilnres ceniiirics of
torture; till the hoin- arri\e- when ,hi\c. Mind to tin' real
event, hut darklv ^nies-inL' that some jrreat irood to him.self
\villflo\v,e.-J)ou.-es 'I heti-. .\t I he moment . t he I'rinial Power
of the world drives him from his usiirpeil throne, and
ytrenj^th, in the person of Hercules, liher.ates Ilumanitv,
typified in Promethoiis, from the tortures generated livevil
ijone or sulTered. Asia, one of the Oceaiiides, is the" wife
of Prometheus -she w.as, accordinj^ to fit her mvtlioIof,'ical
interpretations, the same as ^'enus and Xature. When the
lieiu'factor ( f mankind is lilxTated, Nature resumes tlic
Ix'.autv of her prime, and is united to lier hiishand, the em-
I'lein of the 1 man race, in ])erfect and happ\- imioii. In the
fourth Act. I lie poet jri\-es further scojx' to his imairination,
and idealizes the forms of creation — such as we know
th^'in, instead of sucli as tliev appeared to the T.reek.s.
-Maternal Ilartli, the mitrhtv parent, is stiperseded l)v tlu;
Sjiirit of the Earth, the i;uide of our jilanet tliroimli the
realms of sky; while his fair and ive.aker cfimpaiiion and
.atteiid.'int, the Spirit of the .Moon, receives lilis> from the
annihilation of E\il in the .superior sphere.
"Shell(>y develojis more particiikarly in the Ivries of this
(Iram.a his alistrus(> and imaLn'n.ative tlieories with reirard
to the rTeation. It reipiires ,a mind as subtle .and pelietrat-
iiiij; as iiis own to understand the irivstic meaniin;s scattered
throuiihout the poem. Thev elude the ordinarv reader
liv their ;il)straetion and delicaey of distinction, Init they
are far fioin waixne. It was lu's desisxn to write prose nieta-
pli\sieai essavs on liie nature of Man, wiiich would have
served to explain inncli of what is oI)sciire in liis poetry;
NOTES
237
I'A(;e
;i few scattcrc'l frafrmcnts of (ihs.Tvatidiis an(l roniarkH
aloiir remain. ! If c-niiviilrrrd tlirsc i)liil<.s()i.!iical views (.f
.Mind anil Nature to We instinct witli the inteiise-t si)irit
of poetrv." — I'roin Mrs. Slielii'v's Note.
"The inartvnloni of a heroie lover and saviour of man-
kind was a 'theme around whieh Siiellev's hiudiest and
purest feeiiims and imaLMniiiirs must gather; and tor liini
sucli a mart>rdom niu.-t needs l)e the j)led«e of tlie hnal
victory of jov and wi.-doni aiul love." — l)owdens Lilt,
II, sM).
'•'I'he es.sential thoufiht of Shelley's creed was that t'.-
universe is penetrated, \itali/ed, made real Wy a spin,,
which he sometimes called the Spirit of Nctuiv, 1. it .vhicli
is always conceived as more than I.ife. a< that wh.ch tfives
its actualilv to I.ife, and lastlv as l.ove and lie.'.utv. lo
adore thi- spirit, to clasp it with alTei'tioii, ami lo Mend
with it, is, he thoui;ht, the true object of man. Theretore,
the final union of I'rometheus with A-ia is the consum-
iTiation of human de-^tinies. l.ove was Ih,' onlv law .^hellev
recognized. Cnlerriliol l>y tlie ixrim realities of pam and
crime revealed in nature and -oeietv, he held fa>t to the
belief that, if we could luit pierce to the core of things, if
we could hut l>e what we miiiht be, the worl.l and man
would both attain to their iierfection in eternal love. W hat
resolution I hrouirh some transcendent. al harmony was ex-
pected bv Shellev for the pali>al)le discords in t lii> struc-
ture of the universe, wi> hardlv know, lie <lid not frive his
philosophv svstem.atic form: and his new science of love
remains .■! luminous po(>tic vision -- nowhere more bril-
liantly set forth than in the 'sevenfold hallelujahs ainl
harpiui: symphonit^^;' of this, the final triumph ot his Ivrical
iioetrvr" -- .)ohn .\(ldinirton Symonds's Slnllrii.
■'.V iienuine likim; for I'nninthdis r)ih'»nnl niav bo
r>-ckon.Ml the totichstone of ;i man's capacitv for under-
standiiif,' Ivric poetrv. The world in which the action is
supi>ose(l to move, ring's with -pii'it voices and what tliesc
spirits --ill"- is inelodv more i)uri,'ed of mort.il dross t|i;in any
other poefs ear has cau-iht, while lislenini: to Ins own
heart's sonir. or to the rhvthms of the world. There are
livmns in I'miiKl'i^ n--<. which .seem to realize the miracle of
makin-'- wonb, detached from uic'inins:, the -ub-tMiice of a
new et'liereal muMc; and vet .althouirh their verbal har-
luonv is >uch, ihev are never .'cNoid of definite sisrmlicance
for those who understand." — John .Vddinirton Symond> d
Sill III '/. . 1, 1 .1 I
••Shellev c.ime to this sub.iect uaturallv and thromrh
yo;irs of unconscious preparatioii ; ;in<l when the moment
of creation came, iie ieii I he ill aim- m'''-'''^'*' • ■.■ '" ''i^
Revolution, felt the Promethean securitv of victorv it
contained — felt, too, the rrometheaii sutferul^' winch
2:18
AOTKS
]'A(.r,
it
H
• 1 >'
r
\v;is flic lic'irt iif iii.-iiil.iihl .1-; lie saw if, siirvovint; Kiirop(>
injiis (lay, and kiu \\ ii in l.i - i.w ii lio.-diu .as well. He con-
ceived <ii' I'ldiiH'i III 11^ a- iiiaiil^iiiil. (if his histnr\- and latt;
as the dc-iinv of man; ,ind Lrini,' t'lili of Ihat far sii,dit of
l'roniriliiii> \vlii< ii saw the vicloii(Hi> md licinLT as fidl
'■I' i' .1- I lie wIm'cI of I'l/ckicl \va- full of cxcs h,. ^au . as
'lie c,Miiv(if ail vi-ion. I'lonieihcux I'nhonnd the niil-
len Ilium of mankind, i le inia^iined l lie |iroces> of that iricat
lil'enilion and il> (aduninir pio-perit ie^. Tliis is la-, | ni.
in this [Kieiii (he l.'evolniion .a> a moral iilea reached its
lieiudil; Ih.al i.- uh.il make- it, from the soci.al point of
\leu, IIk' race point of view, the L'l-eateM Work of the la-l.
c(iiliir\- ill creative iiiiairiiial ion lor it i. the Minim.iiv
.•md c-eiiire, in the world of ;irt, of the greatest power in
'('■■il ceniiirv I'e power of the idea of huinaiiily." —
(-icor?j,e 1 duard \\ oodi lerrv's TIk 'ionii.
I'niDnlh, 11.^ I'i,hn,ni(l is .■^hellev's frreate-t ilrama and his
trre.ati-t poiin, lit suhject at once hu' the philosophiziiiirs
ol a lliu'i 1 or the musical f:eniu> of .a W amua-. Thoiii^di it
is possjlik to (|uesii<iii >,,me of its structural ideas in t^uth
of detail, the truth of it- in<.\em.iit .and a>piratioii is
!"'.V"'i'l 'I leMion. It> i.ojitical value i- no douht les> than
il>>oc^l ahie,a!id tli.at .affaiii Ic-s than its .-^lirit ual vahie.
If "ffTTf'rs . o -.lire nuthod for the reiiov.ai ion of'TiTi"' (>iif'it
inipre>sr,s us .all with the ,as-urance and re.alitv of renova-
tioil. HaviiiL: said this, however, we must caution the.sliidetif
afraiiist a too <locile acceptance of the dicta of those critics
who cansec no vitality in .-ihi^llev '.> social ,and jKilitical
Nievvs. The truth would .-.eein to lie that iilthiMi'di the
poet, as a student of alTair.s, rcujaiiied steadily faitlifuTto fh.;
tcacliinj.'s(,f W illiaiii (iodwiii, yet hi- niattcr'of belief in tiii.s
reg.-.rd was far 1; -s important to him - -and oiijrhi to Im!
-so to tis -than th,- ciier.trv and cut husia-in of hi.s belief,
it> spirit ;iud its ptiwer. Uljv placed loo little >tre.ss on th(!
tiHorlful co-op(jialiun of men in the vvurkiii;,' out of their
N'lif^ salvation, we must reineiuiicr that .^helley v.-.as a
lioinaiitic ])oet and that hi-- own experience had'acl iiallv
triven him more occ.-i-ion for helievin;;; in the beiieticeiit
dxiiamic <.f .X.iture than in tiiat of his fellows. In Man, ;is
theofcat nietnlier and expression (if .Xature. he lielieved;' of
tLlU_m.'ntal .and ipjnlu.al ijiertia of mti, he vva.>i hiit t(><>
keenly avv;:re. \or i- it hv aiiv means certain thar.Sht-Uev's
.'social phiiosciphv, mo'e particularly exainined, is as ni-
adecpi ite as ii m.iik times appears. !t is net to he inter-
preted ;i- po^ t iil.al ■ii", a pUI-eJv rNl.'lll.ll impu! e, lilit r.ather
an inelii-ive on,'. ,->lii llcv ■.- m.inkind, thou::h iriveii fluctii-
~ |....<. I.. ,, ■.!-' ->.:•' .1 1-1 II i;,oii -allOM. Is lll'l IIV a II V
|ll«':ili~ a niech,anici/,ed conception. He s.aw and felt the
importance of arousinj; huinanily to acti-.i enterprise in
NOTKS
239
'A<ii;
its own iH'li.ilf. .•illd souililcil IK';il ;iftrr |)i-il nf W.'imillL' .'iikI
ciitri'atv ill |i:unnlili'l ;inil ponii; Imt lii>f\is uitc lial)il-
iiallv liM'il nn ih,' avi-At pxiiiciplca ul' Lu\l' ami ^\ Uduin aiul
Virtue, al)-l r ici inns wliicli liecainc so krciilv and irlowiii'zlv
rcali/.rd ill liis own Ihiciirlit tliat of tlicir iulii-rcnt acti\ilv
lie cniild cntrrtaiii un (Imilit. Slicllcv's ;rn'at invt 1i-|ii>cim,
indcrd, licfiirc and li.'t\vi-.>n it- rapid, iii-atiali' liisrlits,
it-Is hack upmi a lia-l- of iiltiinatc and ininiuIal>K' law,
that stern vet kind riirlitness of tliinir- of whieli we liavo
spoken in t!ie Introduelion. There l^ m it liie ' ireek >ens(!
of Fat", tile Itenaissanee seii-e of \\n^ the IJeNolutioll
sense of freedom, the ijonianlic -^elis" of love, the nioileril
sense of -jj i'f"'^ It completes d'NehN'his a^ I'.iiLdand eom-
J)k'tes Clreece, and if it is not as >. nMti\e to cmrent knovv-
k'dtrc as some li.ave wished, it is vei a poem of .astonishinixly
.self-renewinLT inodei'iiitv, lilje.l wiih the ->pi:it of j\lstice,
of lil>"rt\-, an I of I rul!i, - in a woril, of enfranchise.! Keini;.
J 1 1 pi let- is the -vmliol of llindranee, (';r-.iom. '{"ra.lition;
I'ronietheiH, of . \\;iiduin, Fortitud(j. l l ii m . u utv; A>ia. of
Loveaiitl lieaulvin Nature; i_)cUiui;"r:-;on, ul' I-Jernal I'"iito.
I'ronietlieus .and ,lupiter prol.au'oni-i .and .ant;iu'<>nisf — •
!ir" ;is sharpb.' o!)ii"-''d .a-, in more eoneri'te dram.-i. .are
Ilainlet .and Claudiu-. I )tl!ello and 1 e:o. I", '.at rice and ( 'ount
('..•ici, ilid ihi' oppo-il'iin i- far more iniporlani liere Ke-
caUM' il^ i--'ie- .are f^lt to Im' d'ci-iv-e. ^'et the dr.am.ifie
•strni'ture of tlie p.^em is t^\ |e-s value than its eritotion.al
power. the Iruih of its in-tinct, the jjure Ivric fervour
of its utt(a-ance, the (a-ediMe triumph of its irre.at finale.
In the .'sotes th.at follow t]\r eonn'ai'isous with the
I'ronif til' IIS \'itir/ii.< of .l']sch\lus refei' to .Mrs. j'.rowninii'.s
translation, which i-. p rhaps, th ■ most e.a-^ilv aecess-
i!il" to the :iv r.aire student, d'lie ori^in.al te\t and the
a liniraid' versions hv J.S. I'.I:ickie and by l^. H. I'hiinptre
.sliouh! he con-^ult •(!. whenever po.ssiMe,
.\('T I
44 Srrnr. Tlio time referi'iices h(>ri' and in irenoral tliroup;h-
out the pnem are not without their svniholic v.aluo.
•_'. "One." The speaker. Cf. 11. '-W), 274, -VXi.
4.") 9. '■ I'A-dess in liat(\'' I'.linded hv hitterness. Cf. hint]
Lrnr. Ill, 1,8. The plirnse modifies '• thou" in 1. 10. It is a
Promethean taunt of t!ie dramatic moment fpiife in k<>epin<i
■\vith tlie wonls .iRschvlus makes his hero -<|X>ak to lo con-
cernin'j; /eiis. his persecutor .and her lo\'er:
■■/,,. ]\\ ulic'ii -hall hi- iiap.a-ial srrptro.1 h.aiid
lie <Mlllilii'>l sn''
'llir'niu:!! liis iilietic (m)iiii,-i'1.-^."
Mrs. Urowninir's transkition, Proiruthdis Bound, 11. SSCv-
88S.
'J 40
I'ACK
NOTES
■2\ 1:5. Cf. Promt Ihnis lioiiml. \\.W-]-21.
'M. " Iic;iV(ii'.s \\int;('(l IkiuiiiI." 'I'Iic vulturi'. An
J'Nchvlc'iii plirjisf.
46 to. "When tlie rocks .split." Cf. /'ronirtluus Hound,
11 l_'i),V()".t:
"... I'nr lit first
Tlio I-'rilhiT will >^|ilii up llii- jin nf rcick
Willi tln'i_-r'"i' lliiiii'liT iiii.l the liultcil lluiiie.
Anil hide lli\' budv wlicrc ;i liiiiKe of ^lune
Sli;ill <';ilcli il likr an :iriii."
r)0-r)2. For .similar force in iiivccti\c, cf. (irav't! The
Bard, 11. 1, u, lo, UT-'.M*.
');•). Tliis line coiitaiiis the first .su;;i;rstion of tlir character
of the Shi'llcNaii I'lomrthni.s a.s exceiliiii; that of tiio
.l'>ehvlcaii. The hero of the I'ronutlii us \ inrtux eiulure.s
ami (Iclie.s. Shcllev'.s I'rom. iheiis aihls to the just and
siitTeriiifX .s[)irit of his i)rototy|M' a inodmi s\riipath\' ami
inaiiiianiinitv trained throuirh lout; discipline, and wins no
hiixher tribute than that of Jui)iler himself^ — Act III, Sc. 1,
11. (lJ-f)!».
T^\. I'Orniaii reconitnciids the omission of "the" as ;i
metrical improvement. It seems. hii\ve\cr, that the crowd-
inj; haste of the line accords happilv with its meanins;.
(13. " \il)rated." Note the nervous effect induced by the
ncceiit-shiftini;.
47 71 dttti. 'fhe respnn.'^es are made hy each Voice as ad-
jured 1)V Prometheus. All the \'oices are in symi)athy
with the 'fitau, like the .EscliNlean chorus, hut their na-
ture-e<|uililirium is shudderinirly disturlK'd by the conflict
between Jupiter and his victim, as brought to focus in the
memorv of the awful cur.se, of wliicli they are silently
unforijetful.
<t.>-',»S, Cf. Colerid;re's Rlmi- of the Atiricnt Mariner,
11. .'riO-.'.CO.
4S 1 lJ-1 ir?. Prnmethiiw airain refers to the curse ho uttered
a^.'iinsl .Jupiter, wliich tlie N'nin.s d;irc not rejH'at.
4n VM. "love." 'fhe subj.'ct is the "thou" of 1. VM'S. in the
present editor's jiidirnieiit, not "I." In 11. 11.'? .•>-7. Prome-
theus accuses his mother F.arth of scornins him. Her
near: r movement and dimlv conipassiniiat(> voice now
reassure hiin. and he acknnwlefl<res her love. Forman,
liowmcr. prefers "I" as th(> subject.
51 17r)-177. Cf. The Sensitive rhnt. 11. 22f-2.'1.
1!)1 -'it's. .\ finol\' im.'ifrinative picture of the fixitv of the
Past in F.ternal .Memorv. 'fhe sutrtiestion is Platonic.
52 212. " Hades." Pluto. "Tvphon." A f;iant resistor of
213. " F-vil." Note the allegorical suggestion. Contrast
11. 219-222.
\i
o J
NOTES
241
-■> ' ooo sv, Tlic rnti>^t!Uit presence (.f Imie Mini I'.iiitlieM. sis-
terVnf li.e niiu.te and meal.'- AMa, l.iin-^ I" I'n.inet liens
s.itlielhill!,' of the collsnlalioll luT owil pieveiie.' w.iuM
il^ure. 1 he-^e -pilits >erve the l)Uri)nse <if a ehoni-. a- now
IxiicalU aMli(i|ialini; the api>earaliee of Ilie l'liaiil:i~m of
't ' '7:1 /ell<.>\\V(l lii~ till- ■ Id I'roMietliells. Cf ll.iSN- '■<;
]'rnm<tl,fU.^ Iliiunil. II. -Jill \l^>\' ■ Note I lie all.'irofV Im iv. -
111! power ileiive- ils aiitliorits from llie spirit ot Inilh and
justice. r 1 I
r,,; ;{,);{ .'It ,l(>tli rep<Iit nn'." 'I'lie opi'ratloli ot the law
of lu-ce-itv expressed in the cur-e a.- ilievilaMe is not
rep.'nled, l)Ul rather th.' -pirit of nialcvoience toiind wi
II 'sc, "If) Cf. l..">:< and note, llie Uric oulhurstsot despair
tint follow sUL'i^e^t the inaUilitv of the piin^ly nnliiml
mind of antl<niitv — faciim tlu> fact of I'roiiietheiis cap-
ti^^,v_to ai)preciiite the nu-aniii'^ and power of iinscll-
ishness Cf Matthew ArnoM's sonnet, //) llarmorvj with
Nature. Cf. also 11. :V,)4-im.
:irj-:ii;?. Note 'lie cxtraoniinarv emotional power ol
these iterations as prolonjiiiifi the sense of lailure and
^'•An '".serpent -cinctured wand." The caduceus, or wand
of .Mercurv, surmounted hy win.^s and havinj,' two srriH'nts
twine(i ahout it. , . .^i t- i ,.
■^■K^ .Mercurv, or Hermes, tempts and l.iunts the •'';;""l'.'*-
loan Prometheus. ,><hellev, however, makes hiin well dis-
posed toward the sufferer. • ,• ,•
57 .S4:j "the Sonof Maia." Mercury. I here is a vindicti\o
su-'-festion here nf .lovean ven.ueaiice overtaking hesitancv,
nsTi Strength's words to Hepiiavstus, Prometheus Bound,
11. 73-75: . „. ,
" Dost thou flinch aRain,
Aii'l breathe croan.s for the enemies of Zeus?
ISewiire li>t thine own pity find tliee out."
347 "deryon" "Ciorson." Fabulous monsters. Cicr-
von hud throe head.s and three bodies, ancl was slam l.y
ilercules. The ( lorfjoiis were three sisters, Stheno, luiryale,
and Medusa. Medusa was sl.iin by Perseus.
34S "ChimaTa." A fire-belchinir monster, destroyed
l)V Hellorophon. "Sphinx." Tlie Sphinx was sent by Juno
to the Thebans, and devoured tho.s(> of them who tried and
failed to .solve her eniu'tnas. (I'.dipus .solved one at hust,
58
and the Sphinx dctroved lierself.
354. Cf. Fromcthcns Bound, 11. 21-22:
" Thee loath, I loath mu-t rivet fa^t in oliaina
Against this rocWy height unclonih hy man," etc.
59 37'' "a secret." The .secret is tiiat .iiipiier will take a
^•ife — Thetis — whose child — Demogorgon — will cause
his sire's downfall.
) 1.)
•Jl:
XOTFS!
f: i
ij'
•"''•• ■'!'''' "the Sicilian'.-." I (.iiimclrs, ;i ll.ittiTinir rmirtiiT,
over \vIh)-c l)ain|iii'tiM>;-fliair the tynmi Ihunv-in- mis-
pciiilnl I k.cu -wiinl l>v a licrsfhair, a> a -\inl.>,| ,•] tlic
lllSl'I'lltll \ n| |ll.H( :ill,i |.nwcr.
C.l J.'TlJs. i'\. J'iDiiiiii,, us lloinid, U 11(1, IlKi.s//.
•l;{S- |.{!» Tlioc line-. wiliio-iiiL' iIm .1. partiitc ■ I' ^^■r-
••lirv nil liU iiii>,>ji.|i (MM' II. :U){, :>7I I, arc liiriii(ii:iM\ I m :iii-
til'tll.
'■'•-' lit; 117. (f M, nhcth, Alt 111. Sc 1,11. lh(i, 107:
■ . . . lli'iico, horrililr nli:i.|..« I
lliriMl lIKH'klT.V, llfllCO ! "
•1"), l.")(). .\ favduiitc (ii'iircwith Slirllcv Sec ridfc on
,■1 (liiiidis, I. JUT.
Vi'.\ tti."). ("f. fmiTi \'>Arin\'s vss:\y, ( )f Difiirniitif : " Ccrtaiiily
llicrc is a coiiNcrif hctwfcii the hody an,l ihr riiimi, and
u liciv n.itiirc crrcf h in t\v one she vi'Mtuirth in t In' di hrr."
CI'. al>(i Shakc-^pcan"'^ h'irfiurd III, \v\ 1, .^( . I. II. 11-:!!.
f'.l IIKI-f):'! . \(,|,. II:,. r\ ll licavilir-. dt' l!ir IIilMiI :iI1(| Inovc-
inciit inrtricallv .-iif^u'f.Mid in this ha^' clidrii-. < 'I', th,. \\ itch
seen.- in Mil, Ik III, Act 1, Scenes 1 and :!; .\ct 1\', Siv 1;
anil Finest, \\al|)UM:i> Xi^rht, Part I. Sc. 2\ .
(')ti .)ll)-i')77. The ch;iril> ot' the ("iKiru-cs acconipanN' the
climax dl' the -pii it ii.il .sufferinj: of I'rdinethcu.-. a> he sees
into the I'uiuiv ''lydr Chii^t (II. .'117 .'(iC,!. and of t he
failure dl' the i'Vi i<fVoliition (II. .")(is .")77i, I'oth events,
a--< Shellev lieiieveij, \vr' ' ffdin the cdnli-(]| <i!' (Iddd and
|>cr\ riled td r,\ il. i'n.iii, > tcnipli (1 ihiH to dduljt the
ultiiii:ite \:iliic of hi- own ... for m.inkind.
(i'.l .V.l.s tdCi. rrdinetli( ii.> addresses the \ -ion of Christ.
Slielle\'s hatred ol' eccle.^iasf icisru. of formal and lethal
rcli.izion, fii;ils conirenial expnssion hep' Sit Introduc-
tion, pp. \i\ ,iiid \\.
oil.s. Cf. I'liiiHilli, Its liounil. II. ;i()l -;',()_':
••Chorus. .And triiK' f^r mkIi .-in- /imi- turtiircs Ihre,
.Aii'l « ill ir'iii iKj an^'iij.-lr.' "
70 <V_'S. 'rhdiii^'h tlii- i- .-i projected ])ictnre, it reflects liack
al.-o iiiKin the jiresent .-iluatidn in the drama — Prometheus
wantini: Asia's aid, and .\-i:i i )emdf:dri:on's, to comi)lete
their freedom <jf spirit and of ac ion.
_ (i:i."). The invincil.le t;oodne.-s of the 'i'ifan conquers the
Fury's power ldn_'er to molest him. This jxreat .-cene in-
evitubiy siiix^e.-.ts the Temptation of Christ in the wilder-
ness. See .Matthew i\ , 1-11; Luke i\, 1-13.
(ilO. \ not iidVe(|uently ncurrinij; mood of Shelley firid-s
brief expression here.
IWI. Cf. priiiintluiis limind. II. 1_'},V124S.
•- '■'"■ '• ''■"'. .-.;:;;;;;;:' |;;c"; lire «'m \',\i' I'TiUi't't I it" VOliit iOn,
r>(l.")- (iTJ. The rlivriH' — iHit criiplovcd in the dialopio
toucIiMii; tilt' Furifs (11. liO-M;] aiul' r>2J-r>::r>) — u-lit-ws
yoTKs
21;?
y
llic \cr~(' nricl ^iripal lut ic;illv iiiil i(i|);it('N llic cdriiini; nl'
I lie S|iiiii-. ■■ Tlifii- lic.-iiilv uivi's iiu' voici'." (I. "iiii I
Tii •(''•") .'/ I'lii- S|)iiil> have ili.-i;ilit into (he liii.il tniliii|ili
<(t •^11(1. .1^ ilir I'lirif-i iiiti> llic loll!; |MT^i>tiii_' | ^'i "I
\,\i[. I'.ai'li S|iiiit, iiistaiiriii!; an arlioii nr aliiluli- i I Iiil'Ii
tiniitl, sfcks to jiHtit'v tlif lailli 1)1' all Ilir Spirit
7in 71."). Cf. Thr <'l»,„l, II. (-.7 11.
7llt, 7-'0. Cf. Sliakc>iM'aiv's 77/. T^/nihsl. \ci I, Sc. J,
II. Ht.VJlJ.
71 7■^"^-7•">-'. S< 1- I III riidnct i( II, p. l\iii.
7.'( 7'f7, ' 'I. lii'" 'i7_'.
7711, Cf. Ailiniais, v.. :r'M 101.
7f. 7M1. CI, Mnrhrth, Act 1, Sc J, li 11, 1 J ; Sc. :!, 1. ;?S.
77 Ml") •■ n'-pnli.Mvs." Acccnlcil oil lln' lil'-I ^\llalp|^■. Cf.
.\(t II, 11. 171, o-T).
7S sjii, s_'l. The I'liric-' torments ;iimI the , Spirits' cdii-idla-
tinii .'irc .alike incomplete. The I'liiies ha\f deriileil the
iilc.i (.f |o\-e. ;iii'l even t! ■ Spirit'^ ('.aiinot iirnore its apparent
failure-. Vet in it alolle lies hope. The Illeinorv of I'l'o-
liiitheii- and the woiil- of I'.iiilhea l>oth turn his thnUL'hts
toWKil .\-ia. till' |)rinciiile of tli.at iiexi-r-wearieil l.o\-e
which animates and sustains the uiHN'erse. Sei' Ailnniiis,
II. ISI isc.
S:;:!, ,s:; 1. Love, if slie is to persist, must Ix' united to
\\ isdom.
ACT II
sciAi; I
7'.) 12. The short line dwells for .a moment witli sad intensit\'
upon the iilea it e\pie--es.
:U . ■■The siiadow of that soul." r.antliea, messenger
lietwe'-li IVoniethcUs and .\si:i, sits within the sli.adow of
the Tit.aii. To .\si.i ^he is the shadow of I'roinet lieus, to
I'romelheils the shadow of .\si.a. See 1. 7t).
50 :M\. Cf. II. (11 -'.fJ.
51 ('i7. ('(■ l'^ jil [)si/chiilli'ii , 11. ."iS7".")'.ll .
(M 101). lone felt wli.at I'.anthea felt, Imt more dimlv,
and did not underst.and the me.aiiin!; of lier dre,am. lom-
represents Hope. I'.anthea. the more active of the two
sisters, svmlioli/.es I'aith -the faith t'lat Shellev fel; in
the ultimato 'Ciodness' of thiiiL's. N'ote the derixat ion.
Si li:?, 120. These two liiK-s asiain iinite Prometheus and
A:-ia thrcmirli Pantliea. .S<(' not.' on I. .'U aliove.
llt-117. A heautiful iiicfnre of F.aith,
S;5 i:?1-20.J. "^^>llow! Follow!" The Dream ntt(-rs the
woids of jirotrress that all X.atiire sounds and echoes, the
UM 'inir on." The heautv of Shellev's idea, or, rather, of
i . Ajircssion lu re, is extraordinarily moving.
\M
244
XOTES
i'.\«;r.
s:i
M
lit. Sco nnt(^ nn Adiimiis. I. 1 10.
.■)ti-l.V,l. C'f. (hi, to tin II ,M W Liiil, 11. r)7-f)l.
!l
sciNi; II
S7 '■ I.n\(' •■md r'aitli .■in' iHii-siiin;r (licir jnmnc\- lliroaii-li ,'i!I
liuiii.-iii I \|MTiiiicc: ;iiiil lii-l llir\' |i,-i>^ I liiiiiiiili llic ^plicn;
nl I lie ,'-^rli~(>. (ir (Ati'i M.il lilr I Si '1 11 id ii ; I'll- 1 1 ; t iifli I lirolliill
IIkiI oI l!ic l!iii(>l inii^ (.^riiiicliiirils II i; liiLilK', llirdlii^h
tl'.-it of llic licaMUi :iiiil ihc Will l.Sciniclioriis lllj." —
Villa I). Sciuldcr.
2'JI. "aiiriiionc." Sec luitc oii The (Juisticn, 1. 9.
2;V_> «/. Sec Ad'inins, 11. IIT), MO.
88 2\S. See .\ct II, Sc. 1, 1. ('.7.
S'.l l.'7(l. .V rcfcrt'iicc, no doulit, to the liifihiT environment
of Stciic III.
'-71--277. An evident reniini.<cene(> from Tlic Trmpcst,
ahvay.s Shelley's admiration. See .\et I.Se. _'. 11. ;{S(')-M!t4.
2S1. "oozv." A favourite word with Shelle\',a.s "odoiins"
also in 1. L'tll.
00 'J'.IS. •■thv.art." TcrviT-e; ill-natured. "Silcmi.s." A
{iro|ihes\iii(r dcmii:od, crowned wi;li llower.s, and u.suailv
repre.sented a.s ridin^^ on an a.s.s.
Sri.NK HI
0, 31 }. "Mirnad.s." See note on Thr Smsitirr Plant, 1. 31.
!)1 320. -Vote the L'reat lieauty of the fijiure here.
93 3Sl. This line ke\-s the souT of the Spirits. Asia and
Pantlie:i .are now to d; >cend to the ultim.ate Source and
Ciround of all thiii'^'s, to leave sen.sihle Nature and confront
the Law of Xaturt^'s hcinf;.
SCKNE IV
91 •111. Demotrorsron's answers lia\'e (li(> remoteness and
chaiiLrele-s (ruth of their speaker's eliaraeter.
■lir)-lL'l, .\s the pas>;ii:e ^tand>, "which" in lir>e -115
.seems to ii;i\c no predicate. Shellev, liowe\er. sur(>lv
intended "(ills" jis th'- predicate. Ilossetti tll.akes "when"
(1. 11")! "at," and I'orman smrirests ''he.ar" (1. -llCii for
"or." If "lireathe" were .adopted for 'in" in I. 410. the
oriirinal imace would perhaps he most apoareiit, thoUi;li
anv of these chanues would, of course, s .e h.azardous.
9", I'JS f'f. Act 1, 11. .111-.',13; Act III. .^c. 1. 1 112.
■13"). Note the rising (nnotional insistence in .\sia's ri^po-
titions. She i.s face to face with the most obstinate of
\l
NOTES
245
Its
bo 4l(i-llS. Tlifsc lilies adiiiinililv .'\pn ss (he IV<>iiict!ic;m
cli:ii:icl(M-, ~- wi-ilniii, :iiiil iVi.'inl-Ini) tor liuiiijiiiil v.
■ItC. It'll. Cf. I'rn,„,lhr,ls /i,,,lllll, 11, 2 11 :-'7,.
-lti_' .',()■! CI. I'r.'n,./!.-' IIS l.-nnnl, II. ■jr,',l-;;i M ) ; .'ilJ-",:.,.
4t;i •• Xcpnii!,!'." The ll.iiiifric ilrii:: "1 tnrL'rMulnrss.
Cf. l'nc'.> /Vif l{<ir,u, 1. S:5. ■■.M.ilv." .\ Tilled l.lainmvell
ri\-M'> \i\ llerilles In -;ive liilll ll"lii Circe',-, p.iwcr. >er I lie
0(/V.s-.-:rV, H(,nk .\ . 11. :5ll'J-:i(ir). ••.\lll.ir;illth." .\ll lllKlL'.Il-
(irv fa.iele.s.s lldwrr. It api)e;irs ill SpeiLMT s Fnrru (}n,rnr,
l<(,nlv III, Caiiti t'), stanza 4.'>; ami in Millon s L;/>iitns,
1. \[<.i. ami l'<iniil,s, l.uM, I'.dok 111. 1. :?-">M. ^ .
•t7 tS'.l Cf Mont lU(nir.\.V.^s<j. Ser Inlroiluetion. i>p. in , Im.
(,S ;\\-^Tvi:\. Cf. Act 1, 1. 111. I'lehind and licviuid Zeus,
wiid .+:.sclivlus, stands .\(C(-silv lef. J'rn„n lln us Unund
11 .")S:-!-,')S(i), which is nltiin.ate l.nrd (if all. ,-liellrv, witli
modern idealism, m.aUes Love the Lord of -XecesMty
(1. ')i:\). 'I'o him, Love is Hie final idea ol jiower, destmy,
an.l C.odhood. V\. the following inteivMiii- pa.^sai^es: -
"TheCo.lof I'ower, even before we learn i|mte [lositivelv
to conceive him a.- the Cod of Love, sometimes apiieard
to us, despite his all-real Oneness, us soiueliow re(iuiiiiii;
another and hiiiher if much dimmer Cod Levond him,
ei-her to explain his cxi.-teiiee or to justifv his lirinu'. 1 Ins
rontradieiorv and restle.ss .search for a Cod U^vond (.ucL
this lookin-i' for a realitv hi-her still than our lii,i:he~t
alre.adv defined power, appears in several ca.ses, m our
poet's (Hrowninu'sl work, as a sort of inner diseu.se, .alioul
the verv conception of the Cod of I'ower, and as the liemii-
riiiiff of the newer and nobler faith. The (iod Levond Cod
is in the end what fiets defiiie(l for us as the Coil of 1-ove.
. The Cod lievoud (iod api)ears in Cdili.aii s theolo^'v,
verv exiilicitlv, as' the sometiiinj; over .'^etehos that mudo
him or lie, mavLe, found and fought.' 'There may l.e .some-
thiiii; (|iiiet o'er hi.s head.' . . . In far notiler form, Ixion riM^s
from Zeus to the hit:her law and life beyond hun. ... lie
[Cuidol falls helpless at last, and, even while he wrestles
hcneatli hell'.s most overwhelminj:; mi<,dit, still, like Ixion,
like Karshish, and like David, he conceives at last the
C)ver-Cod, afar off, bevond the ^'reat gulf tixed; a- tlii.s
()ver-(iod, mentioned in his final ery for help aft ' <lie
powers, -after Craiid Duke, Poi)e, Cardin.'. ■ t,
Maria, (ioU, -is Pompilia. . . . l^iripides, too. u, ins
wav. found the Over-Cod. and found hun in fh.' world ol
love! bevond n.ature, and vet within ni.an's he.art." -
Joslah l\o\ct.'. 1)1 uii ii I ,ii/ -^ I ,,' ,si.i .j> . 1 ,/
Soiieti/ J'aixrs. ISSH- !,s:C}.
"There is an Kniitv. a Sould'.nl it v. as vt unrecnuMU/eil
it is in iddilion to the c\i-!elice of the .-mil; m addl-
l-'.' . : ;..!;:i ■ :.^:.\ !::.^;;!ii! !!;:• \:\:-:! of t ! !!■ dcltW -
I'coiicludi^ th.at there i.- an exi.stence, a .somel hin;: lu^lier
M(
240
yoTEs
VI
pa(;i:
than soul — hiirli-r, hcttcr, and innrf perfect tliaii deitv
l-.ariiestlv 1 pra\ ic find . . I hi-. Ili-1„.M Sciil, thi> ^'reater
!','■•'" 'i'l'V. this hetler ,11 p.d,-- — Kichaid .letferies-
J h' S/i,, 1/ nj Ml/ Hunt.
■• W h( M we have lirokeii our ;iod of traditio- -id ceased
from our -od of rhetoric, then niav ( lod hre the „ art uiih
'"■•' l"'»"enee '• - Kalph Waldo lunerM.i,: Th, I >r, r-S,,ul
• ■ „ •',•'1'' 'I'l'i'-^'-t Cdlerid-e's lilwr oj tl„: A nn, nt Manner,
•")hV I'lie Hour of a'upiier's dethronement, whose car
I leUii. -orison IKiU" a--celld-. ill. ,").").•]- ."),")S I.
'"" '''^'.~.' -' '"' " ■'"■"' l'r<'metlirus' restor.ation.
r)G<;-.'.77. Note the liLiht and confident swiftness of I heso
cx'iuisile Imes. As j )einot:or>,'on «oes t,, hani.-ii Jnt.iler
(Act 111 ,^c. 1), Asi.a ;,nd I'anthea ascend to witnesb tho
release oi I'ronietheiis (Act III, Sc. 'A).
sci:.\!: V
10;;
om-
1(»1 _ .'^S^. ..ss. Ihe .^un-Cod aw.aits the conclusion of (ho
J<.urne\ .,t Love, Child of I.mht (I. (i:^l 1, whose own hein.'
ihuimnes Ihe cloud alioul the car (11. .".SS-.")!*! ").
102 r,<.)7 (IDS. Ajihrodite (\enus), the piddess of love, was ,so
(•i-eate,!. A.ia, it> i^reatest Spirit-Kxenqilar, al.sorl.s into
her own l.rm- ,all other svmhols and dispensers of love.
U.J 0_tJ. Li. lirouiiin.;'.-, ('/u-i:;tni(is i'.n , v, 11. 2\i-l'y. —
"I'nr ihc Inviii;; weriii 'viiliin its rloil
Wcri" (iiviiiiT tli:ui a lnvclc.'..^ fr,,(l
.\niiil his worl.is, I uill ilaic ti. .-.;iv."
_ (L'.Vt'ilS. Ti,,. \nw(. (,f I'roineliieus anticipate the c
m\i of A-i.-i.
^ (mII. hi Hawthorne's Marhl, I'mm. he sp.^aks (Book IF
chapirr Mil ot the Lack of fraiikiu ss in Itahaneves: •••V,tv
stniiure, indeed, si-iior,' she re[)lied, nieeklv, without turn-
inu awjiy her eyes in the Ica.st, hut clicckiiiu' liis insiirht of
theiu at about halt an inch hclow the surface." Shellev
wrote to Peacock of wli.at, on the contrarv, .seemed to him
"the m.azy depth of colour hehiiid colour with which the
intellectual women of lOiu'land and (Jeimanv entantjle tho
heart m soul-inspirini: lal'vrinths."
101 (ll!t (;s7. The ,-onir responds to the sontr nf the Voice
of rroiiieihcus, Th, re jin-er in il some nolo of Ihe Spen-
seri.an nMiH<'. ( 'f . Ti,, r„rnr (J}i,rnr, Hook II, Canto II'.
Ct. ha' Mirul.ar s\-niholic sufr.trestions — t he retraininir of
','"'.'■ -""■^' •I'i'l '•■'' livslmess" — Wordsworth's (hlr (in
hdn„„!„,„s,.j in,un,rl„i;i;,. Cf. alsolleurv Vaughan's The
hi trial , 11. _'| :;_': " '^
"I ) li"« 1 l.),;. t,, iiavi'l lack,
-An! tri'.TH .■iT.niii fh:it nnci.'iit tr'irli!
NOTES
247
I'.\(iK
Tliat I iiiiv;ht iincc Minrc ri'iicli that I'laiii
Wliert,' first 1 left my ^;loril■lls train ;
From whcMcc ih' riilii:litoiit'<l spirit scea
Tlmt sliailv Cilv nf palm trcr-^I
liut all! my soul with loo mucli stay
Is dnmk, ami stairncrs in the way : —
Some mpii a forward motion love.
Hut I hy barkwanl steps wouM move;
Anil wlipii lliis dust falls to the urn,
Iij that slate I caioe. reiurn."
lOl (')71. " FI;iriiiiiiii/int;." Acco iiinl dii t lie sconnd syll;il)l('.
lUa ()N7. Tilt' ;iiitc('i'ik'lit id' 'Nshicli" is " sliapcs." 'I'lji'
thought is thai tlir sli:i|ics arc mi liliirlit - " sciinrwiia t
lii^i' tlici'" ~ t hat iilic riiiiKit hear tu liidk at tlicni. Ikinl
yet, once seen, tlieir iieauty deatrnys the Ijidmlder's rest.
ACT III
s('i;ni; i
lUf) L'.'). "Icia'aii riaiiyini'de." Caiiyincdc was :i iH'autiful
I'iiryKiaii ymith wiio was r.arric(l up from Mount Ida lo
suci'e(>d Hehc as cui)-Ii('ari'r to .lupiter.
'H\. "da'dah" See note on Mnnt lilmir . \. SCi.
■1(1. "him." Til!' snhHer Sahelhis. •• Xiniiidian seps."
Seps is thi' name of a speeii'S of deadlv siTpeuts. See
Lucan's I'linrsiilin. \\, for the aUu-ion.
■i;?. cf. i)r\-deirs /■/;,/,,■ .1//-. .i//7/",v's /'(•.;,'/■■'. n. r,. c.
107 (il. Xdli' the wrath .and Ljrowini; fear indicated 1 iv
Juiiitcr's cli.atiire of address .as contrasted witii h .")!, in
whii'h ;inticip;iti\-e thoiifili as vet luidclinecl dread is sug-
gest' >d.
C' ()fl. In these wor.N. f(dlnwiii;r the elofpient silcnc,. of
Jujiiier's rccoL'nition of iiis (hiom. " the wheel lias come
full circle." His aiipca' to the name of Prometheus is one
of the most impressi\e dramatic luoments in the drama.
The I'>\il that opposed and oppn-sed fherxidd recotinizes
cxplicitlv the s\ipcrior power of its victim, .and implores
.succour therefrom. Cf. .Act I, 1. .'?().'.
lOS 72-71. Cf. The Rrr„lt of I.-lnin, Canto 1, lanz.as (1-14.
SI. .Vssoci.atc Jupiter's "e\'er. for ever" with the same
word.s of Prometheus, .\ct I, 11. 2.3, 'M, (liiG.
sriAi; II
109 04-100. Cf. Matthew .\rnoid's Salirah mul h'lislum,
"cMtrlo."
I
2J8
r\(ii;
NOTES
10',» 107. '• I'll .(US." .\ f.iitious sea-pod. f)ii whom \tptime
l.cstowr,l Il»' -ifi of proiiln'. V, and who a.vsuiard various
and iHT|iir\in,t; shapes.
.<('i:\K III
lift i.T). cf. Act II. Sc. -.. II. (I--,, (;;n.
Ill 1 i:-! >'/ Sh(llcv'> l( iiirini: tor I hi^ crx >l;dli/.ation so to
speak ol liiirh riiotiienl- hiids t'r('<|iHnt cxpivs-ioii in l.olli
Ills hfc ami lii> |jo( irw He was alwaw- on I he \rric>' of di.s-
C'o\iTiii;j.- a jscr-onal a- well as a social iidm. ( f. I: /li psi/rhi-
(itn)i, 11. ."Hi .")!)! ; and t\f hillowiiii: pas>aL'c from jiowdiii'.s
{-'/'• ^"1- I. V- 1-7: ••■\\c must .s|av licrc,' whisjK.rcd
Shelley 'st'iv for cNcr.' Tlii-- 'for e\rr' I.ecame after-
wards a jest l.etween tli<- friends; for all Sliellev's nioxc-
nienls, sudden and erratic as the starts of a meteor — ono
of tho.se that
'Cappr
On hill-liip~ wliiMi thr iniidii is in a fit ' —
were to conduct him to some resting-place where he should
abide ' for e\ cr.' "
At the same time, we can hardl\- aiiree with Mi>s Scutlder
tlia* thi- i':i--;!'j:e li.as a " merely pastoral preltines.s," nor
accept iier stricture on 1. loT 1). cause it sei rns to be out
of harmony with the theory of evohitiiii. " ( Mirs h, s un-
fhantred" expresses a common and h. re jusilv dramatic
lomrinut for peace and rest after lorn: spu-itual toil and suf-
term;:. ( 'f. II. 1 <»4-l'j() as comiiletin-' the meaning:. Cf also
III, 1, r,()\-r,\-2.
'i'^' "J['"'^'''i tears." Stalactites and stalagmites.
11- 17.), 17(). " Ijma." See note on S(i)i(/ nf Proserpine.
Knna was a Sicilian town in the " Himer.i" coutitry.
]f)S. "Proteus," See note on Act 111 Sc. 2 1 1(J7
113 L'On, 214. t'f. Act II, Sc. 1, II. l,^>(i-l.'-,l).
211. Cf. .4 Midyio/D/ur \i(/lif'.s Dnnm Act II Sc 1
11. 172, 17;^: The Tempest, Act IV, Sc. 1, 11. 44-47;' Act v'
Sc. 1, 11. 102, lo;?.
114 246, 247. See note on Adonnis, 11. :?4S-:^.f)l. Cf, flie
ponnct hesriruiina " Lift not tiie painted veil." See also
Act III, .Sc. 4, 1. 4r)S.
115 2S.-). ("f. The Tempef^f. Act TV, Sc. 1, 1. 1,S4; Act V, Sc. 1 ,
1. 211; .4 M l(hu»n>ier XiiihT!^ Dream, Act II, Sc. 2.'].2lt!
2S7. "Nysa." Scene of I he worship of I'.;icchus, who was
s-onietmies called XvsaMis. "Ma'uad." See note on The
Sensitive Plant. 1. lit.
lie. 2'tS. " Pra\itel(\an." Praxiteles was a peculiarlv skilful
and svmp.'itlietic (ireek sculptor livim: nearlv .")()() years
before Christ ilawt hdrne h.as se\cr:il interesting rcfer-
elice.\ lo ;;::;; ;;•, / ;., :;.//,■*,'( / ihiri.
305. "the m-l;' ..f lif,.." ('f. .\'l„>„n^. \ ;U4.
yoTEs
249
-CKNi: IV
PACK,
1 la .'U I. ■■ tlif ilclicati' s]iiiit
This
pin
t lias lifcii likiiicil
to (Idfthc's iMiphorinii, 'II tin" second part
thoUL'li of course it lias a wider iiieaiiiii
.f l-'iiiisl, al-
jxiet-
Ihali llie
chilli of Faust an
the ( rude materia
nalurt
He!(
i'iie old, half ilu i;J:anic (lal:
Hid
I earth, is replaced, now that the harinonv
has l>een restored, l>y this dairitv and
.piiit, who, chiliii>h at fir-^t, f,'r<iws into >\Mtt^
leljiireiiee aiitl love by the end ot Act 1\.
ot nia:i ami nai
more r.at imial
maturity of init
Vida I >. Seiidder.
117 :VJ7. The hile of thi' dipsas serpent cau.M/d uitolerablo
thirst. ,'>(■(• l,uean'> I'IkushUh . 1 X .
lis ;<tS-;?r.l. Cr. Uaml,!. Act 111, V. 1, 11. 70-. t).
:]n\\ ••Well." The rather aiirupt u.-e of this eollo.juia!
expletive inav he draruat icallv ,)ustilie<i by the Spirit .s
(|uick, irrepressible liovishnes.,, his caj^ertiess to speak.
I'f. i. :no.
:ui:{. ("f. Act ilI,Sc. :?. li. •-•()'.»-■_' id. . .> , ,
;i7(»-:?S.">. Vi. from lirowuiim's I'lirnrrhus, m tlie liUit
long utterance of I'aracelsu.-, \hr passage beiiinniiii:
• hi in.v ciWM lii;^r| love Ui'A n-.l 1 ii Mia.lr ui,-o."
110 riSl :]S2. ("f. Coleridge's Rimr <-/ thr Anrnnt M<irimr,
11 1 •_'.■)'- l-'ti; -JliS-JliO; •J7'-'~J1»1.
101. "darkliim" Cr, A'/m/ />'■/'■. Ai't I, M'. l,l.'-''t<.
r_>0 -lis. The "on" after ••pasturing" is .supplied at 1-or-
man's suggestion. ,
4^JI). ■•rhidi.aii." I'hidias is the most famous ot tlie
Greek sculptors. . ,1.1
4^_>7. ••amphislKenic snake. OiU' k.aving a lie;id ,at ea( h
extreme. , ,
r2\ 4;V_'. •■As I have saiil" is a .strangelv eonmionplace
nhra.se for so sensitive a master of words as Shelley.
4:U-")1-' \ i)a.ssioiiatelv beautiful prophecv ot t le
triumph of l.ove over Kvil in mankind, the p..s.-,mg of the
nicclumical and ivrannous in law, relmioii ;|iid custom.
C'f for the iihilosophical weakness involved, ihe introduc-
tion, p. Ixvii. Vet ShcUev's iK.etry must not be interpreted
as imioriiig the value of moral ci'ort. . , ,,,
IfJ. ("f. Act I. 11. r,n-.-,l:^; Act 11. >e. t, 1. 4'.'S.
l,')7-4(t(i Shellev's condemnation of sor ,il inMiieerilv is
a feeling one, as it had cau.se to be. Wha' -ueces. ol ..chrm ■
or man.euvre. he felt, gained at th.> expense of one s .selt-
respcct and moral integritv. can compare with an iinstame.
f.e'dom of sou!'.' For himself, as man .-ukI poet, he neheved
that honest V of sp,-e<'h aiul deed is the instinctive attitud.-
and expression of the liiuTa! soul. ( f. lennysond In
Mrrmiridin, Lvric 110. 11. 4-7.
,.;.j .._.. .. ;., .. .^.,.1 " ;,_ il... oas! tense.
r''3 -lltS See note" on Act 111, Sc. 3, 11. 240, 247.
,-.01 -n- cr \.* I 1 I'.iS.
i;
i 1
250
r\c;i:
NOTES
AC I IV
\2A "At first iic completed the (iniin.i in three aets It wa.s
not till several months after, \\ hen at Florence, that he
conceived that a fourth act. a >ort of hymn of rcjoicin;;
in the fullihneiit of the pro])hccies with re^'ard to i'ronii"
thelis, (iiii,rht tn lie added to coinjllete the composition."
— I'rom .Mrs. Shelley's not,'.
It is strange thai Sidney I.aiiier. a critic so {rcnerallv
y diseerninjr, sliouM h.ive written as tnllows of this four'h
aft: .Vet I\' is the nici>t ;ima/,inii piece of sur|ilu-.i',"-<> in
iilerature; t he catastrophe ha 'leen leached loni,' aL:(j in the
third act, .Jove i> in elerii:d duress, rninietheiis li;i, hfcn
libenited and lia~ L'one with .\-i:i .-md I'anlhea to hi>ele'na'.
paradi.se a I Ml ve the earth, and a lili.al radiant picture uf t he
reawakening' of man .and n.-itiu'e under the new n'triine h.a.s
clo.sed UJi the wlmle with the etfeet uf a t nm-^furiiiat ii m-
wcelie. \et, ujion all thi.>. Shellev drains in .\ct I\', which
is .simply leaden in action and color aloii^cside of .\ct 111,
and in which the \dici- of unseen s])irits, the chorus of
Hours, lone. I'aiithe.a. Detnotroriron, the I]artli ;ilid the
Moon Jielt each other with endless swee(i.sh speeches that
y rain like ineffi^ctiial comlits in ,a carnival of -illiness." —
Till Hm/lisli XonI, pp. lo:',, lot.
William Michael Hossetli. on the other h.ind, fin<!> it
'■difficult to -jieak Jiiuhly eiiouirh of ttie fourth act .-o far
as lyrical I'erxour .and l.amlient |)l;ivof ini.airinat ion are con-
cerned, hoiii of them sjirMi^int: from ethical enthusiasm.
It is the comiiin.'ition of these which makes this act the
niost >urprisin,ir ,-tructun'of lyrical faculty, sustained at an
almost imilorm iiitch throULdi a verv consideralije leiiizth
of verse, th.at 1 know of in anv literature. DneouLdit [H>rhap.-f
to except ('ertaiii passaiies. t.ikeii coilectiveh-, in l)ante's
Puriiilisii "
("crtainl\', ii l..amer's criticism were to -t.iiid. it would
lu'coliie iiece.-.-.iry to <-url:iil >ome of ShakesjK'are's |)lays
and Thackeray's novels, .a- concludinL' with other thci;
structurallv neces-.ary passaires 'riiouirh it is true Ii;'
the e.s.-eutial dr.am.atic (irtimi is ended with the third .act
(.f I'riiDiitlii us, \v\ the dr.am.a itself is ineom])lete. for the
movement h.-i- heen directed tow.ard a e.at ;i-t rophe so
.stUp('lid<Hi> .■mil re\dlutiollarv th.it the reader in-^t inet i\-clv
feels ,■,< Slielle\- felt the l\eed of another act. Iioth to
give re.-dilv in celel.r.ant mu-ic to the citilr.al ide.a of the
cntirr dr.'iMi.a, .and t., r,|i,.\,. o\-ere!iari:iM| emotions. If
Act III had lieeii .■illowcd to rem.-iiii , I-- I he concluding .act,
the linair woulil h.iM I,,,. II nhr of uuur.ali'fid .and .almost
nneon\ ineihi: al -rapt m -~. and ihc a--tlietie re-iill on.' of
a SHrnrisr' a..nd, ii.\' ..(i unreliev ir! .as !o !;;• -dirso-,' '-.oj-.f:;!
The ■silver iininj;" a)i|iaront m the I'ominu of Kortinlirad
NOTES
251
aftrr tlif cHta^ti'iiiilic in llnnilil. Iiinlinir :it tin' inlcnipl inn
of the trajiic i'ii-i. ami iIm' cwtllaiil .strain- >il' Sliclics's
final act . siTNc aliKr i>nr prime pui'posi', -- In' niakiiii; of
Ixilh crralinii- nmri' alt i-lii-illv ctimUMc.
I'aiitlu'a atul lone here serve the fuiielio!! <if an iiiter-
linkiuLT ami woinleriii'ilv interpret aii\c ciinrns lielwceii
the Spirit-soni^s and the duet of Ivirth and Miion, and
;maiii helween tliese and the fzreat iiijiuietii>iis of |)eni()-
^or^oi:.
127 7:{-7(). lM)r the hu'iH-e ef. Aet i,Sc. 1,1, l.'.C; Tin ('< nri.
Act I, Sc. •_', 1. 1 I; .1, /.;/('//.-•, I. 2(17; U<uiil,l. Act 111, Se. J,
1. 'J.')!).
1_',S lit), "da'dal." See note ^n M'Hit lUnnr, 1. N(i. Cf.
Aet III, Sc. 1,1. •_'••.; Aet l\', i. IKi.
l'_'l, \H. Ciuitra-t ^//e.^• WnttiH iiiikinij tlir i'.iKiiun nn
Hills. II. \S; (i»Mi'.).
132 I'.iJ. Cf. ('haiieer'.s I'mltiiiw I" H" Cuntirbunj 'Talis, II.
•J(i7-J(,;S:
•• lli.^ ('\('ii twiiiklrd in lii-t Iii'imI :iri::ht.
A.i (jiMPfi the ^irrri- in the frnsly iik'lit."
2()rv-2:5."). With tiii.-; vi.-ion of tlie .Moon cf. The Cloud,
11. i.v.-.s.
2i:> ■■ Keirard." .\re reir.arded ;i.s; ajipear.
21 1 217. Cf. '/■/'. Cl":i'l. 11. 21 21.
i;U 2(;() 2(;.'<. Cf. .•<hake>p ^re'.s Kiln/ Hmn/ \ . .\et 11, Se. :{,
1. U>.
2Sl, " waluele.ss." ln\-.ilu,al ile.
l.'Jfl ,'?in .M/. Thi,- .-iiiriliial cnniintr together of I'artli .Tnd
.Moon at onei' indie.iles the new and rapid irrowi h of eai'h
under the l;i\v of lo\'e and .satisfies * he i)redi('tion .f .A-i.i
in Act 111, Sc. t, 11. ;i'.tl-.S'.tS. Tin. sjieaker.s an- surely the
Spirit of the llarth .and tlie Spirit of the Moon. This is th •
new Marth of .\et 111, Sc. 1, the fncd ami rcjuvctiati il
spirit of Scene '.i, not the old Isarth of Act I. In this (in.al
act it li.as liecoine "old ciiotitch" in its new life (cf. Asia's
words in Act 111. Sc. 4, 1. ;iW) for C()niplet(> delii^ht and
triumph. .K-theticallv. tliis is a \ aluaMe studv in inler-
cliantred metiv-, .and the student should carefullv eNauiilie
the measures , as correspondinir to the presences .and con-
sciiMisnesses of llartli and .Moon. Cf. .Addison's famous ode,
'/'/(( SpdctiiiiK Firmnmrnt on High, as cxhihitiufr ii brief mo-
ment of similar spiritu.al insiirlit.
i;?S 370-12:^. Literatiu-e contains no hymn of humanity
more insnirin<r tli.an this.
37S. Cf. 1. 21.-..
139 100. Cf. Colerid.ffc's Lnrr, 11. 1-4:
" .\ll thoiii:lils. .-il! pa-Mi.ii-, !ill .li'li„'lits,
U'li;iii>\-i>r stirs tliis iiinrt.'il fraiiic.
All arc lull tniiiistcrs <if I,<)Vt',
.\l„l f.'r.I lil^ -a.lv,l f1.-,ln,'."
1
2.')2
'I
} j
y<)H-:s
I 11 IjM^ <"f. Ilti„in In liihlhrfiinl Jinmhi, \\ nit, CO.
11-' \,j\ ■• M- i];i;|." Sr,. ii,,|r (,ii •/•/,- N, /,-,/,/•', /'/<////,!. ;U
IJ L •■ Al:,i\c." i »,iiH^liirr of (',i(|iriii-. I'liuirli r of 'I'lirlics.
r..'). ■■ ( '■i(liri;i';ili." Src ikiIc (in Oi/r /,, /.ih.rfi/, I. ()_'.
ll") .■>.")! ■ 7. |)rlM(>p)rLr(!ll'> i:iv,it llllrnmic luliclif-. [\,i- lndt
scrciiitv !li;il liiitli crindilidii-. and i- pnnliiccil liv (li-ciplinc
fhrr-iiirh IMI. 'I'lic Miclcnl will (diiip.-irc the Shakcpcaiv
(.1 ■/ 'll ■/'.'/'/-',-/ ,;nd 77 W'l.ilir'.s /'./A will, (lie Sli:,kr^|.,.aiv
<il ihiiiilil and l.inr. I' ill, -nrrow and jov arc niiw Iimi-
|i.iv(i and cnnlrollcd In a nin-ic undc>|)airinir and iincxull-
anl, l.iil -ironii alul callri and Lin<l. Sliclirv'- nun lunirM
liclicf in I lie manner ol Man'.- rcilciniil ion i- lirrc r\i)rr->i d
1 17 The World's Wanderers.
In i-ornian'.- opMiiLn a -tan/a i- w.mtin;;, llir hi.-t wnr 1
(if wliich -Imnld rli\ni- w il li " lijlinw."
1 IS Song ("Rarely, rarely comest thou").
'I'liouirli tlii.s j\ric i> iiMiallv f,M-()U|ird witli tlic pocni.- rf
IS'Jl, fliiMc cxi.-t-^ at Har\ard an aiitdi^rapli MS dated
"i'isi, .May, ISl'O."
14!) I'.t, .\(itc tlic inctric.'d mean,- emphiycd to induce the
" mei'r\' mea.-Mri'."
;{.S-i». Sliellev di.-liked the ordinarv forms and conven-
tions of •■ .-.ocietw"
l')*) Is. cr. '• W'lirt) fhr Iniup is sIkiIIi 1-1,1." jl. 'Jl-l.
l.'iO Song of Proserpine.
In (Ireek mvt holo.irv I'er-ephone (liomaii, Proser[)ine)
\v,i- the daMuiliter of Zeii,- (.lupiteri and Demcter (Ceres).
^\dnle ^rath.riML: llower- on the plains of i;,Mia. in Sicilv,
with .\rtemi- and .\lhri,;i, -he \va- -ei/ed li\- i'juto, uod'
of the dead, and carried off to lieeome (^)iieen of Hades.
She \v,-i- permit led. ho\ve\ er. to rel urn to her mot iier diirim^
a portion of each Vear. anM -vmltoh/es \eLri't:ilile life, ller
storv i< told liv ilesiod and < )\id. Cf. SuinI Mirne's IJi/uni In
J'riKi rpini'.
1.")! Autumn: A Dirge.
1(1. rf. Dimr jnr ihr y,,ir, l. lo.
152 The Question.
I'he sensuous lie.autvof this po, ,ii susxut'sts oonij)ariso!i
with F\cat-'s (),Jr In n Xii/lilinild/r.
1-S. Cf. I'rnnh Ihnis I' nhniim' , ii, t. l-pj.
!*. "wind-flowers." .\netnone-. (IV.un ficf «os. w ind.")
10. ".\rcturi." So-called liecau-e cver-l iloomin.ir. Tlio
constellation of .\rctuiais never sets.
9-.S2. <"f. the famous (iowcr-passafics in Spenser's Fairir
(Jmiiir, I'.ook in, Canto (>, st.anx.a 4."); Shakespeare's .1
Mi<l.-^iinir>ur.\i(ihrs Dnvni.Xit 1 1, Sc. 1, II. lM!) -'J.-iL'; Keats 's
0,/c In II Xii/lili/Hifilr. stanza"); .Milton's Laruhis,]]. 142-l.'il;
liacon's I].-sa\- ' '/ (,'nnli IIS.
i:?. "that tall flower." ProhaMy the tulip.
21. "Our la!t>:ua,uc ha.s no lino," suys Palgravc, "modu-
lated with more .-ulitle >veet!K>ss."
NOTKS
253
r\(;r,
l.'i'i -7. ' si'diic" CoMrsi' Lrr.i--^ (ir fla'^s crdwiiiix nil I he !i:itiks
(if hikes .■mil li\ris. CI. .Milton'^ J./jcultis, I. lOl.
I."i.; Ilynin of Apollo.
'I'lli- :illil till' >llccriMlinL' ll'lli'll WiTr illli'licli'il fur use in
a (Irallia of W illiam-' -. A|iiilli) and l':in .nr rMiiiiii'linu ln'-
fon- 'rii!.ilu~ I'll' a pri/r ill liiu^lr, A|"illii wa-- tli.' xiii of
Zi'U- ami Lctn. iilld \V;is llir l;i!(1 of tlir >lin. (if diviuul ioil,
lii.iii,- ilM'. Iiiu-ir. |Hirliy, ell', t^Sfi' II. ^iOol.)
1 .") I Hymn of Pan.
Till' iTdii i'.iii in (licck ni\ I lidli'UN' w.a-- a -nii cf !!rrrni'S
mill ('alli>li. Ill (1 111 I roll.,! ill,- III Ids and wi^ikI-. I lie llnck.s
and llic licnU. and is t laiiil ionalh' ii'iin'-nili'il ,i li.i\iiii^
liorns .and ircal -like Icirs .-ind ii'i't . lie w.as .a iii.a-ti'r-inii-~ici,aii,
till' in\rnli>r nf " I'.aii's )ii|ii'-," nr the s|i(|ihi ru - flu.,'.
I''<ir cinai'iist.aiici's of (■(iiii]iii'.ii inn mt nnic mi Ih/mn 'f
Apiillo. Cf. Mrs. HrowninLi's .1 Musicul I ii-<lriiiiii nt.
1.").") 11. '•'rmolu^." Till' ;;im1 of .Mount 'riniiln>. in Lydia,
f.atliiT of 'I'ant.alns, and judLTi' in a musical cnnlcst l)et\Vfi.'a
i'ati and .Xpiilln.
W,. " rcaii'iis." ( ir, .~-^:,li-iiilpria. a rixcr in .'^i' i'v.
11. " rriii|>('." .\ \,ili' ill i'lii's-al\', s [lal'al laj; I >|\-in|Mis
from ' >-^a.
I."). " I'rlicn." .\ niniiiit lin in 'rii''^-;il\-, l:il>l"d to lia\i'
iiccn pik'il on ()~--,a, aiiniini- niouniain, li\' thr ;iiaiils, and
(lircctcd au'ain.^t < M\ ni]iii-.
l(i. "Silrlii." Sal\l-^ and follouia's of Hacclilis. " S\-l-
v.aiis." \\(Mul-<|)ii-its. ■• I'.Min-." ( 'rcalurcs of Latin myth-
ology, rcsi'mliliiiu; the (in'ck >at\Ts.
2(». ■■da'dai." Sre note on Man/ llhnic. 1. SCi.
HO. ".Maaialus." .\ mountain in .Vrcadia, the original
.scat of Pan.
l.jfi Arethusa.
.VrctliUsa was a fountain in (irt\iiia, nr.ar ."^icilw and
AlpliiMis .a ri\i'i' in t!ic .aiuaciit I'rliipoiini'~u--. ulinsc cnursc
was at times .-ul iter::iiie.an. The |e':ciid iherelnre arose
that .M])lie\is, the ii\ei--i;dd, lieeanie en.aiiinuied of t lu-
n\nii)ii Arethusa. while .~he liathed ill the -ti'eani, .and
pill>ued iier, wiuaellpiill she Was clialilled |i\- .Vtleini^, or
l>i,aii.i. into the ( hi \'i:i.an founi.ain. .Mplieii- cuiit iiiu-'d
hi- pui-uit under "carlli and ocean." Cf. .Milton's Arcddrs,
II. _".i :U: —
" . . that renowncil Hiieil. n nfti'M suiik,
Divilir .MpllCllS. wile li\ M'tTcl llll-r.
Stele iiimIit M'a> to luei'; lii- .Xicl Iiiim'."
("f. also Milton's L;/r}'las, II. .S.'). i;5'J; and Colcridsi'''^ Kiihla
Khan: —
'•Wluri^ .\lp!i. tlic .'•arrcd rivrr. ran
Tlireusrli laviTii-^ Illl'aMl^•lr^s to man
L'uwn te !. Miiik'.-> M'a."
f
i i
4
2r>4
r\i;i:
NOTES
>'• ■' " Arni('rr.iuiii;iii." Acfr.ccniutii.i w.is tlif ancient
n:illli' (i| ,1 |i|'(>li|(>iil(i| \ 111 I .pii li~.
'-'■ ■■ I ^1 A in:iiitliu^." An Aic.iili.iii niiiunl.iin in the
r('ln|)()tHlf-ll>
• in. " iin\ alllr
1. I7fi:
Ill\.ilM.ll.lr. Cf. Milton's l.>/ri,l,is.
\'i'' 'i'-n> 111.' iiiir\i,ri--ivr I \|.n--~ililfl iiiilitiMi -"iii;."
Cf. :iIm> (hi, li, l.il„ii'i. \. 'A; /'n^/n, /l„u.^ CnhoiDul IV,
-Nl,;{7.s,
'■'"^ "'• '■ l^nna'.<." ^rv \u\\i' isw Smiii aj I'niMriii in
l."..s The Cloud. ' '
It w:i^ iiatmai tli.al Shell, .x'-s u'cniiis .shoiiM lake drliirlit
in liiinirs .■icniil. Iiinl-, h.'illoon-. liiriitnintr, .-lars, winds,
<loii,|<. Tlic .^\rnpatli\- .s|i,,un in tlii^ taniiliar l\ric uitli
'I"' " lii'in;,' ami I iri'oinin'.' " of tlir I'lou'l tcslifirs tollii-
iw///. ■,/,,„■// ,,f lij, n.ituic \ i-ion, to hi- kin-liip witii Hlakc
ami I'.row liia^ r.it her tli.ui uitlj I'.iv ant or even, in ^'cutral,
WoriNwoi
I'''' II. I-'. ( ,. !'nii>„thni.< [' i.l,„ini,l. l\ . l,Sl-l.
Hi" !■"). ('{. I.itlrr to Mann (,isl„,n,, . II. (i!), 70: —
"... will ,1 from llic Tuiii-i iiiiiMn ruins
■j'lii' iiirii .s| NJn.u.'r i.T a,- uliilf (irc. '
tr. .V,,, \i,ti the (lirirri'ticf in llioii'jjlit l.ctwccn tlic cjond-
(li-awn |ii(iiirr of tlic moon and tlii' tiioitiil'.- inclaiicliolv
falicv. Cf. 'I'd Ihc Mix, II and Till W'liniiii; M, 1,1)1. anil cf.
iUso .Sidney's adinir.alile .-oniirt. "With how sad steps, ()
rnooM. thou eliinli'st the skies!
')_'-- t. Cf. Coleri,l;;r's " stai-dopjred Moon," Rimr nj
thr .\i,(„i,l M„rin,r, I. _•!•_', ;in(l Wordsworth's .1 Mnhl-
l>i,r,\ 11. 11 -JO. •'
KH M. "cenotaph." .\n empty tomli, intended as ii me-
morial father than a^ a j;ra\t'.
ICil To a Skylark.
See Introduction, pp. \iiii, jviii, .•itul l\iv. "Here it was
fat Cas.a IJiccil, near liustliiiix i,(i:horn, tliat Shellev .and
Mar\-. wanderint: on a heautilnl sumtner e\ eniniz ■ 'moiii; I he
lane-, whn-e myrtle-hedpvs were thr Imwers ef Ineflics,' lu-ird
the e.arollilii,' of tin' skvlark wliieh in-pired t hat ' sjiirit -
wnifjed .>nn<x l<nnnn to ; ii lover- of l\iiL:li-h pi>eir\- a ,-on^
vilinitin^' still wiih-ncha keen and puie intensitv"^
Dowili.n^ l.r,, . If. :;:;i.
.■s. Seme ciilic- liave held th.al the si'inicololl ;it the end
of thi- line should he placed after line 7. This would lie not
(inlv an unnecess.arv v.ariation from the earlv editions hut
an iiidefeii-ililc one. the ^'cnius of the i-econd staiiz.a re-
quirini: a <|uick, exull.ant, ascendiiiL' inoveineiit . The stn-ss
is jiaipaiiiv ujuin line N rather than line 7, .-inee, ;is I'ro-
f( oor iiaynes ))oints out, "in llie opi'ninc; ver.se of the jioem
the lark ... is already far ui) in the sky."
V ' ,V
NOTES
r\<:r
lti_' l.'i. For " i!nlioiiii<l " I'rnf("^snr CniiU siihsfitiiffd "cin-
tidiiicd." 'I'lii ■ cliaiiv'c ^il-o i.-> whollv witlidiit w.irraiit. '1'Ik'
laiK i- .1 "Idillic -|)iiil." ii "s|)iitc," a " xmiiiht of lli.'
■.'iiiiitul. " It may -ah Iv \h- said lliat lod many ccirrupt
pa-^airr-! in literature liivc U'co'iii' sn tlinniL'li (-(litoriitl
lilindncss Jill perviTsily ratlur tlu.a tliroii^'ii original
cr' ati\e Ciircli >Iiess.
',V2. Tlic siK ceediii.T stanzas attempt to iUT^wer the
(luestidii. ('! \\f)rds\\()rlli's 'I'd flu />(iisi/ fscrond [idem),
staii/as '_'-").
Id,'? ()."). Amotii; all of Siiclley's ('(iiKjtu'sts over the apalh\-
and heaviness of wdrds tliere is none niori' triumphant
than this felicitous line
l(')l SO. Cf. 'I'd — — (•■ When passion's trancf' is overpjist ")
and J.inis (" When the iam]) is shattered ").
Sti s(i. Note the autoliiojrra|)hieal valiK' of the stanza,
10.') 101 M/. CI. Toe's l.snijil, 11 l.")-.")l
K),') Ode to Liberty.
" In the spring of the vear [IsjO], moved by the tiprisinp;
of the Sjianiards, he had written his Ode to LUxriji. in
which the trravi' .Muse of Historv is summoned to utter
oracles of hoiH' for the cause of freedom." — Dowden's
l.ijr, 11, ;m:?.
The motto is taken from Childi Ildmld'a I'lUjnmaijr,
Canto IV, stanza OS.
1.'). "a voice." Cf Wordsworth's soiniet, EiigUmd and
Stritzrrbind, ISDJ. "the same." .\ we.ak phrase, ilaJMint;
the line Tlie "voice" n'\ie\vs the riwe of Liberty !
peals for her fuller welcome.
L'.C) IS. "dadal." See note on Movt lilnnr, 1. S'"..
l!t. "island." .\ favourite imajre and ideii with Shelley.
Cf. II. lOS. '2W. Cf. Introduction, p. xliv.
,31 . " then." .\ weak use.
'AS. "For tho\i wert not." .Vote that this phrnsinc is
iterated in precisely the same place in st.'inz.as 2 and 3.
Contrast I. 72.
41. "sister-pest." Kcdesiastici.sm, or traditional religion.
Cf. 1. s:l
107 47. "dividuous." Dividinc
■")1. "unapprehensive." rnalile to apprehend. See note
on Ardhiifa. 1. 00.
()9-75. Libert v a condition of art.
lOS 71. "that hill." The Acropolis.
S7-!t(>. Cf, Adomiis. stjinzas .Vi ,and Fv].
9'2, "Cadmiean Ma'tiad." .\ Theban worsliippor of
Bacclnis. iMiripides tnakes tliem nurses of young wolves.
See note on Tfir Smsitirr Plant, 1. .'?4.
r*,!, r iiv uearesi ,' Aiheiis,
'.)S. "Camillus." Marcus ImiHus CanuHus was a renowned
Roman hero, who relieved his people when lx\siep;ed by
np
i»:
H
2'>Ci
y\(.\:
\(»Ti:s
llir (i:iiils. "Atiliiis." Or, ItcpnliH, a Flntn.-in rorivi-I, wlm,
rjipdircd \<\- the C.irl li.iL'iniati^ tiiid scul Id ll.iiiic lu -nlicit
[>t;i(i-, :i(l\i>c(l tlif S ii;ilc to coiit itiur llic \\:ir. (Ml liis
rttiirii to C.irrli.mc lie was, as he fxpiiird. put to dcalli.
!•'"' Ii'-'f ■■ l'..latiiiiis." M,,,. ..I th,. .srvcn liilU of Kmnr.
liMi " ll\ n .iiii.iri." livrcaiiia \v;is an aiificiit l'.r.--ian
j(ro\ iiicf, M.iiili n| the llvtcatiiati (( aspL'in) hvu.
I in li:{. Cf. Milton's Liiri,l„x, II. .•{«>-»;{.
ill, i If). Cf. Milton's l.nrtilns, II. rvl^T^.
M>. ".'^cild'v." .\ Sc.ild was an ;inciriit .<(;iMdiM.i\ ian
iiiiii-ln I. \iiiori;r the Celts the word ciiii.'ds •j);inl.'
II'* " riir ( laliicin MTpriit." Cliri>t i.inil v.
l~l 171 I 7.{ .\ nfcn IMC to ilic I'ri'ncli Kcv dint ion.
1 7'>. " .An.irch. " N,i|Mi|riiii
1M). Cf. (;r.iv\ llii n,inl. vt.ni/'.is J ;,ii,| :\,
isti. •• I'itiifcii.sa." .\n i>l,ind in Ilic Hav of N'aplrs.
" rrl(irn>." .\ .'<i(ili,in licadlaMd.
17'-' I'.t-'. 'Twin- of a sinjilc dolinv." I\iii:land and Sp.iin.
I'" "'III' dim West." I'ossililv .Vintrica; po^-iliiv tlic
I',i-t. iliniitrli tills Latter interpret.atinn would li.irdlv'U- in
acciird wii!i .s;|i,||r\''s ide.a of the yonlli of [.iliert\-: niore
|)nil':iMv the ii|M> liiluie of lnMn;init \-, .i- the \\( st is the
, dav-old snn's ^lory and -ulaee. •■ impn -s us." Mrs. .<heliev
snfTirests 'as' for ' ns.'
\'M\ " .Vnninius." .\n eariv ( icrnian hero, w ho defeaf i d
the Itdinans.
■_'()t "thon." It;i!v.
LMJ. C(. I'mnnllii us I'tihinnul, III, t, i:iit.
17.1 "JJti JIO. Cf Introduction, pp. \i\ and \x
17 J IMS. Cf. 1. .-,.-..
•_'")4--_'r).'>. Cndcrvtaiid if wealth can rend.*
■-'.'is. " Koan w;ive." \\a\ e (jf d.iw ii,
'itlfi. Cf. Wordsworth's Oih to l)ulii, I. '_'.
17.") 27I-"JS,"). The student will note the powerful felicity in
general of .Shellev's fin.ales. See Introduction, [). I\iv. "
•-">:!, "LTeat \(.iee." Cf. Milton's f.'/ri,l„s, 1. \:V2.
17-') The Sensitive Plani.
In this lovelv alleeorv .'"^hellev evprcs.scs the cardinal
truth of idealism and rornant icistii. that
II
riio < inc r('ni:iiii-i. t!io in.iiiy ch.-iiiKo and pass ;
Heavpii's iiiilit f(ir ever .shine.''. Earth's slmilows fly."
Tlious:!! the i:-uirit of I.i^lit ai)d Love .ia, impotent to
prevent the apparent mutcrial dccav ul" all things U^autiful,
ii--iii_?.otlint iu Xjie world of ide.-i- to reil^'..ni f(u- ever from
<Ieath and destruction. Cf Browninir's .1?)/ Voqlrr, 11. 69 .^r/.
riulv "Mountcnsliell (Mrs. .M.ison), wit'i whom the Slielle\-s
■W'Tf •■•-rv
r..: 11.. .1.
"■'a. V.'.i.s, aCfwru-
ing to Medwin, "a sunetidr and .icei.tnuHshed woman, and
a great resource to Shelley, who read with Ikt (ireek. He
NOTES
Uf)?
VM-.f.
Inld III.' llKit -lir was the ^nlinv of tin- ill-^pir.lf Kltl of liH
Siii.<,lii' I'lniit. an. I llial tlir -niu' nl it wa.-> laiti ill lirr
trail!. •II, as iiiipt.ftiial a j.lacc a^ cniilil l.f "<ll iniairili.'il.'
Il will iiiti-n I tlif -.tu.lnil alM. to imlr t lie I'ollow inii i)as'^-
atrc Inmi .1 I.ii<t i.f Slirllrv to l.fiirli Hunt; '• William-- i-<
oM.- of the l.i-t fallows ill Ilir World; aii'l .lull--, his witf,
a most (i.Ii-hlfiil person, who, we all a>;nv, is the i'\acl
...iitilvi '' ""' '■"'^' ' 'l<'~^<'iil''''' '" '/''" >'"'-''"■' I'lo'it-
thoii;;li till- iiiiist liavf Itch ;i fuirc iinlininilxl i n./mlion.
■A-i it was written a vear Ix't'orr 1 knew Iht
ITC, !;< .s-/. ("f. with this series of e\i|uiMt.'lv wroucht llower-
pietures Thr (Jmstinn. II. ".>-:<-', and -ee iiole on same.
17 ••wind-flowers." Sec note on 7//- (Ji« s/mn. \. \K
177 :U Ma'iiail. A hacrliante. a I'r.Mi/ied I'em.ile worshipper
of Hacchiis, heariii}! the thvrMi>, a >h>:lit stalT erowiied wit i
a pine-cone. Ct. I'miintlniDi L'lihounil, II, ii, ^Hl, 111, i,
•_>S7; IV, 17:5. , , , ,. ,
r,\. "ii.>|>ho(lel." Ill <;re<k iiivtholoK.v a pale and delicate
llowt'r fj;rowiii« in Hades amoni: the dead.
17s 7(1- 7;{. The last line of this staii/.a i;. nither olisciiie.
The piussafie mav 1 'c thus re-l)hra.sed ; • The SeiiMt ive Plant.
Ulialile to reve.il its love, like the other llowers, 111 hlossoin.s
of heautv ami fragrance, nevertheless on that verv account
was more riclilv dowered than ihev, since the love it so
stronjilv felt Init could nol e\piv-s. havmLi: no oiitl.'t
(•■where none wanted hut it"), -truck mio the •'deep
heart" of the plant itself and expend m1 all its power 111
trr.iciiiii and purifvin^' that heart.' ••c()ul<l lielont; to the
tliver," i.e. the would-he f^iver; hcuce, ideuUy, ;i giver
indeed.
17'.t its. Cf. 77/r rVo,/*.', 11. tl-fJ. ,... J , o.,
ls> 177 •■ Haia'." See noti on Oilr to Uu- H '■•-•' 1' '"^. I;"--
\S\) ("f. .1 hiri/r (•' l{ou;;h wind, that iiioanest loud.")
IS? 'ilO-lMl. ("f. 7'/i» Ifimr oj thr An'-i<nt .U((r(««r, 11. -i-'t)-
■_>2;?. Shelley wa.s verv fond of Colerid-re's ixietii.
'J'J0-"J'21. Cf. Teiinvson's /« .U(m'»riV/m, l-yrie i'2, II. 1>-
1-.
]Sl ■'■{() •':U The sense will he ai)pareiit if •' >t retche.l" is
ineiita'llv related to ••hemlock," and -.stillcl" to all the
liaiieful weeds. , , • 1
•2:V_'-'247. These stanzas show ;i marked reaction toward
She'llev~s interest in the liorriMe and siiii-ter. See Iiitro-
(liiclion. pii. xi and \iv. Coleri^e, in revisin-j; Thr Ihmr 0/
thr Annrnt .Ufzc/m/-, omitted, after the liist edition, the fol-
lowing stanza: -
"111^ li.iiios wcrr lil:irk wiili iiiaii.v a crai-k.
Jet black ami l)arf, savo when' with rust
Of tii.iiiMv .lamp an.l rliarin'l iTii>t
■riii-v'f lialrlu'.l wilh purpli' and urceu."
258
NOTES
l:'
*l
I A(;k
Would iidt Thf S( nsi/irr f'larit liavr Kiiincd in pf.ctic pdwcr
if Shell. 'v h:i(l, siiiiilarlv, iiiadt; soriic iiiodilicat icii licrc?
Xotf the liiitT ait, .-huuii in the iiiorc aiistcri' nictiircs oi
II. L'()4-27!t. '
IS") _'.")(). "foriud." AccurM-d.
1S() 2S7. urirf." drip; clutcli.
Mp-'MY.i. Cf. .\iln,i„:'s. !, .Ul; Swinliurnc's sonnet, (>n
tl<< Dinlli (tj l\(ih, rt /Irmrinn.'
ISS To Night.
<'f. I.I iii-r.'ll(, w's I/i/tnn to tbr \iijhi.
IS'J 1'.). Kd^ftti uses the t'cnuiiiiii' pronoun, lustifvini: the
chanirc i.v ri'fiTi'nco to II. K) ^nd II. It is pVoli.-.l.].', hon-
cvcr, that in ihi.s iti-t.nicc " D.-iv" and ■■the l»:i\-' a[)i',r:dc(l
to ,s|i,.||ev's iiuaLrin:ilion prcei-rlv as t.ic jrendcr oi' the
oriLruial pronouns indicate-.
ol,.Sa. Cf. Pro),!! thus I'lihouiid. H, 1, 1.')
ISO Sonnet to Byron.
Not t( cluiicnllv a lr<iiliin;it<' .-onnrt . The student should
consult anv work <ui i)(>etics --- sueh a.s ■' "uniinere's Ihnul-
honk — lor a di.sctksaion of the canonical .sonnet forms, tiee
Introduction, p. Ixiv.
For remarks concerning the relation's of IJvron and
• b lellcy, see Introduction, i)p. xx.w, xxxvi, xl, "xivii and
xlviii.
6. "ri.so as f;Lst ami fair." Hvron's Cain, Heaven and
tarth and The Visian of Judgment were written in rapid
succession, aUiut thi.s time.
IflO To Emilia Viviani.
Sec Introdurtiun, p. xlix-. for an account of this l.cautiful ■
ai.Ml unf()rtunate girl. Vi. al.so Shelley's Epipmjchidion,
a Idresscd to her.
1!)1 To {'• Music, when soft voices die ").
_ ;i. "oilours." Note ShiHev'.- fondness for this word as
inducuig .sen-uoiis ajjpeal. Cf., with the .stanza, Shake-
speare's Twrljlh Xuilif. .\ct I, Sc. I, II. I-IC.
192 To ("When passion's trance is overpast").
The hauntiny; nulaneholv of this Ivric finely expresses
the poet'.s sense of the tnutal.ilitv of human life and of the
mcomi)letene.s.s of human love. Cf. Shelley's remark to
(usiiorne; "I t\m\k one is always in love with something
or other; the error . . . consi.sts in .seeking in a mortal
image tlx' hkenevs of wh;it Ls, perhap.s, eternal." Cf also
Mulnliihfj/ and Lines ("When the lamp i.s shattered")
in Ct. JUrons /:7m/v on Thip-zn, stanza 7, and his
} oulii (tiia .If/i , .^tanza .")
103 Mutability.
Cf. Koliert Herrick's To Dnfjodih. Spenser's unfinished
canto to .Mutiiliility [The Fmrir 'hurrn), and liacon'-s
last completed I'ssav, ()/ Viei,!<itude oj Things. Cf. also
SheUey's other Mutabiiit>/.
ih
k:
NOTES
269
101 Sonnet - Political Greatness.
SiT iKitc on Siiiiiiit to Ill/run.
rt Shfllcv liHii .^liLilil (■iitliusiasiii for historical study ii3
such.
S. "ol)sccnc." r<;lv Cf. /V-'.'^//!"7<s r^')"!/w(/, IV, !•').
19.-) A Lament ("O World! OLife! OTime!")
N. iJo^si'tti inserts " autumn " after " summer, " most
impropcrlv, as rcLjards lioth music and content.
1!)7 Adonnis.
S ':■ 1 at roilucl inn, pf). \\v. \ivi, l\i, Kiii, a :d l\iv.
The niii.-t nnt.ilile p ■rs-inal ele^i.s or elegiac [)oenis in our
hui;:iiair" mav he -.fated as follows: —
Urikiinwu i .\ii!;iii-^^M>ii
Perio.l)
Eilinii.iil Spenser
Joh.ii MiltDii
I'crcy 'i.v.x-.lu' Shelley
Alfreil Teriiivsiin
Multliew .Vrnolil
Kiibert Browniiii!;
Algernon t^Iharles Swin-
burne
Ralph W.'ilili) Emerson
Walt Whitman
Title.
The W (tnderer
Asfrnphct
A (lonni'<
I II Mimiiriiim
I.a Saisiaz
.1 re (itque Vale
ThriiuKbi
When Liliica Laxt
in the Diiori/arJ
Bioomed
In .\ii'niory of
The singer's p.atron.
Sir I'liilii) Si.laey
I'.dwnnl King
,)niin Keats
Art'rir Henry HallaTj
.Vrihur liiiKli ('loii«;h
Mi.is A. Egerton-riaiith
Charles Baudelaire
His son
Abraham Lincoln
The more canonical and literary — by no means there-
fore the less \it:d — amoufi these elejiies, includini: Adonais,
show the influi<nce of the 'iiemorial idvll.s of Theocritus,
Hion and .Mosclius. .Shelley, more particularly, is indehted
to Hion'> Liniictit for Adnnis auil to Moschus's Lami nt for
Bion. Keats'^; death, tliouuh the circumstances attending it
and its me.aninc; for him and for humanity are treated witli
poetic eneiiiy, is yet made l)Ut the occasion of a penetratitiLC
plance into the problems of phj'sical dee,i\- .and spiritual
futurity. While .Milton's eleiry makes its cliief burden
clerical insincerity and undutifulness, corruiition vrrxuft
incorruption; Tenn\'.son's, the diflicult restoration of the
indispens.able mininnmi of faith; and Hrownin<;'s, the
intellectual yeracity of the idea of tlie Soul; Shelle,-,
for his part, wings throuKli ji.altiable darkness his flamina;
\yay into the slo^y sunrise of Internal Lo\e and Beatify.
His own opinions of the poem are fjiyen freely in such
passac;es as these: —
"You may annoimce for pulilication a poem enti;led
Adnnnia. It is a lament on the death of poor Keats, with
some interposed stabs on the assassins of his peaei' and of
his fame." {f.rffrr fn Olli.r.)
"' haye receiyeil the heart-rendinj; accotmt of the clos-
200
NOTES
Y
'f '
m^
'III
M f
M
1
V^ \
191)
iwr.K
Mn,;;,;,!, " ""''^"'""'" ^-"''' l-^- .>v.r,.,nv..n..l .1,..
''.V it iV. I li.-nc fini.shd mv I Nl-v; .•,!.<! tliis ,lav I ,viu\
' '" '!.'■ I>nssat JVa. Vnu.^lu.ll l,..,vr n ,, ,,v .1,,. ,., , .
"^ I '." ", ,, ,,,M;nM..jr fin- f<,r l,is ,1, .t,„v, n; . (I.twIm o
M.vlj. ,s,;,hn;,n,lM,l.,nM." (/.,//,. AW,/, w),, ,
^l.-IKy ...1(1,,.^ u.M.s tl,,. u:,iuv -A,;,nai.s' )„ in.lirat,.
MS hlrrarv <'«^l • to I'i. ... lMu..ivall savs tl,a( it is M,,. ; 's
aSs. ■■ ^^*'"'"'" ' ^''^' ^"="""'^ >•-"•'>■ '^"".....a/ion fo?
rtii(krc(i l.> Aiuiivu- Laii^ tlius: •• l'„ison can... li ,.n
TulV/'' n"' T"'"''. Pi'ra^'rapli of ti.e Proface compare
H\ ron « D,m Juan, Canto XI, stanza 60: — '
" Tis very siraiisp the iiiiml, that firrv particle
ShouM iet itself be snutTVl „ut by an artiele."
The student will „<.to. l,owevor, tl.at Keats was more virile
than tl.os. passap indicate. Cf, l,is own state.nen
1 raise or hla.ne has hnt a nion.er.tary efTect on the man
^lose love of heauty .n the alistn.ct makes hin. a severe
cnt.c o,. h.s o^vn works, Mv own tlomestic criticism has
or the Qinrtirb, couhi possibly inflict ; and also wlien I fee) 1
fZr"l\' ""^'^^•''■""' praise can pive r.,e s„c|, ,y f;l(.was mv
oun solitary n.percei,ti.,n and ratificati.m of what is fine "
I J/. U. the opemnfrof Hion's Lnmnit jnr .\,h,nis (I.an-'s
ranslation): " A\ oe. woe for Adonis, he l,ath ,.eri<he,l tl.e
hoauteons Adonis, .lead is th.. heauteous A.ion'is, the Loves
jo.n .n the lament. Xo more in thv purple lainient. Cvpris
do thmi sleep; arise, tho.i wret<.|,ed .me, sahie-stol.-d and
l;:v:y'v:i.lrrtv'-'-vtoaii,.Heha,h,^^^
10. "WluT.- wert thou?" VI MiUou, I.,,rula.^ 1 .'".O-
^nlrit .\Vl ■^'"''"''■•" '■ ""'''^ ^''^' -''''^" "^ As.ro!,on.v or ihe
of S „ l"'"''^"' ■"^f^T'l''^ Po.'trv. Th,. rranian .\phrodite
rf Te V ^"7*";n7;'-^ ^".f'*' [>Pria,. Aphrodite of Hion.
,r ,; ^^■'"" -^ ^" -y^'noriam, Lyric 37.
L"). "on..." An Kcho.
200
IS.
20.
Ii...
"Jle
■A.lnnais.
Milton.
NOTES
•201
PA OF,
•JOU
Urt. '■ his dear sprite." Vi. Milton's Cnmiix, 11. .TS1-3S2: —
"III' (li;it li!i-i liiilil wiihiii his own clc.'ir lirr:i>t
Miiy <il i' il
u* cf nt re, :t n<i *mv
..\- l.njrlit .lay.
■A<]. "I lie 11
.Mill
pi K ■ I .-
Sliclirv nml-
Ilmi
Daiiti
mil
, III Ins l)i ji riri I'l fill /i I/, as I lie tlnrc frirat ipic
III wiili'iiiiii; the {'ati'tiiii-v, he would almn^-l rrrlaiiilv
iifix I' irivt'ii Sliakopcarc |i'aci' ainniii: t he priliii' I liri'r pods.
Ill any ciisc, the passa;;*' .-^iiould not Im' inlcrpri'tcil loo par-
ticularly.
■ID-li. " ra[»('rs" anil "smis" aro, of coursi', cnntrastoil.
4,S-1<). ( f. Kcals's Isdhilla. or Thr Put oj Hii.sil.
51. "cxtrcine." 'riio stress falls eciuully on each syllable,
ns also in 1. (IS.
201 T)."). "that hijih capital." Home.
().")-72. Contrast i*ith this ])i(ture the unreserve of ths
'corni|)ti()n' passage in The .^mfilire I'lnnt, 11. 2:52-247.
and see note tliereon.
73. '"'i'lie (juiek Dreams." The subtle visions, emotions,
imajiininss, of the poetic ."onsciousnes.s. Note ti!ieir ap-
pearance in Prinnithiiis ('j)hoi(iirl.
SO. 'their swei't pain." The s\v(>et pain they cau.se, —
'"sweet," because of the joy of the \isions; " pain," because
their l)eauty is not capable of adequate expression in
words. Tile^• are born, >'('t not born.
202 S3. " inoonliirht winirs." .An exquisite touch. For similar
associations, cf. Shakespeare's .1 Midsuniuirr Xiqht's
Drmm, Act II, Sc. 1, 11. 2!», loG-I^S; Act III, Sc. 1, 11. 175-
170.
S4. "is not dead." Cf. /..vaV/as, 1. IGG.
88. "a ruined Pa raiii.se." The mind of Adonais.
91-90. ('f..from Hion's f.nmrnt for Adonix, "He reclines,
the delicate Ailonis, in his raiment of purple, and around
him tlie I.o\-es are weepinL^ and p:roaninK aloud, clipping
their locks for .\donis. And one upon his shafts, another
on his bow is treading. ;'"<1 ''ne hath loosed the sandal of
Adonis, and anottier hath broken his own feathered quiver,
and one in a golden vessel bears water, and another laves
the wound, and another from behind him with hi.s winira
is fanninij; .\donis." (tr. Laiisi.l
104. "witii liirhtninir and with music" S^■mbolizin!I
the irresistible enchantment, the sheer impetus, of sure
poetry. Cf. Ailonni.i itself, "the 'lanii> tleath." The cold
dews of death.
105. "its." The antecedent is "Splendour."
107. "clips." Surrounds or embraces. Anglo-Sa.xon,
cb/jipan.
203 IK) "pomp." Pr.icessicn.
117. Note the mcluneiiuly charm of this fine figure.
262
i I
' y \A
NOTES
PAf;
E
201
]2_1. Of. ThrChml,]]. Ifi-j,,
"^ir^^S^^^^^^ whom the
'-■•rs 1..S „amo spr.-u,,. from his M, ';;;"■ ^''^' ""^^'''- ^^'"^•''
to reach if.- ^ • ' '^'"'^^ '""'--^^''f '» cliagrinnt his
" Inrn niirhtin"'.!,. " ff t.'* * > /-i ,
faihirc
iAr,.
lU].
205
200
207
r.n,nto;paHTSHr;iU!ai'of'u '^^ '•'''Wc.'ranoo has no
ten.hils of thi a. s": on • f^rT P'\'i^'*'> • '^^'l ^Ih' cnrlod
«Prinj; in another -c'a I „ ^ ' "' ' *'"''' ''^'^^ "^'""'' «"'!
wo sleep, ,.,nc. down i t "sTlence a ri.t;' ' '" '"''V^^' ^'••'••*'>
an,i unawak,.ninK sleep " (tr T .''"^ ^ '^^ """^ ^'"dless,
\JS-m'aT'' ^■-'^''♦-i;'i'-ilii,ie.
1 Jlel;;;;:-,^;;i^;;'^;;;::5:' '^y de:?r'/^"r'^' "-» ^^'-«.
2j:t;;^'l^^H^^'^r-rs::n-i^-'>^^^^'-
Apl.rocHtowilh ulZLj-'Z"' t r^r^^ "• • • '"'t
mr.^i;;!;is.^hap£s'A,^':;i''''',^'T -'^^"^^^ "Abide with
for a lit.l..\vhiran( ki ■;-,;:''±- ' •. ^^ake, Adonis,
i;av^ki.n.e,,ntanJni;^;:;;t;CEr::^j-£
'"'• "^'™'-tle3«/' In that AdonaiH has her heart.
\'M *
!^M
NOTES
203
rA^K
i
L'{)7 2'M. Cf. ]Vicin'.-i f.nmrvt for Arl'ini.i:
wliilo wrt'toliod
I yet live, liciiii; a tioddcss, and mav not follow tlici-!'
(tr. I. an-.
.1^
/.,
■it for Atl,
HI- uli\-
ovcrliold, liid-t tlioii follow tlic cliavc, and lirin^; so fair,
why wcrt Ilioti fliiis ovcrhardy to fiijlit witli lieasts?"
((r. I.atij;.)
'2()S 2-1"). "oKsccnc." Sco note on Sonrift — Pi)litiriil Crait-
nrsfi, !. .V.
LTO. "I'vtliian." liyron, wlio castiir;itc(l his carlv
critics in HritjIifiJi finrils and Srnfrh Rcrinrrrs. Tlu- P\tliian
.\pollo, slayiT of the Python, is referred to.
20!) 2(i_'-3ir). The pastoral niourninj; of the inoimfain-shep-
iierds, the fellows of Adonais.
•-*(M. "The rilirrim of Eternity. " Hyron. Cf. Cliilde
IIiir/>!(l's Pih^riinuqr.
2ns. "lerne." Ireland.
2t'i!). " swcftrst lvri--t ." Thomas Moor(\ These references
are poetic, not [)articular.
271-207. Tliese three stanzas contain Shellev's ]iortrait
of himself.
274-270. .Acta^on was a hunter who chanced to see
Artemis and lu>r maidens hathinir, and was on that account
chanped into a stap and pursued to his death liy his own
iioinids.
27S-27(). Cf. Tennyson's Thr PusKinq of Arthur : —
"Ilis own tlicnij^ht drovp liiin liko .'i frn.ml."
210 297. Cf. Promrthn,^ r'niwuvd. ^. ■ir,r>- TV, 7."^, 74; Thr
Crnri, T, 2, 14; Shakespeare's llanilvt. Act III. Sc. 2, I. 2!\0.
300. A reference to the manv troul)l(>s of Shelley's short
Iif(>. Cf. the followinp passage from a letter to Ciodwin
(Feb. 20 ISIO): "Hut he [Turner! is ar>t to take oireiice,
and 1 am too trenerally hat(>d not to feel that the smallest
kindness from an old acq<iaintance is yalualile."
'Ml-'.Wr^. 'i'he reference is to T^eiirh Hunt, friend and
loyer of Keats. .\t Hunt's home the two p-^ets first ind.
211 ,310-324. ' 'f. til" I'l'falory jKissasre from Moschus. Thi^re
is no necessary conflict here with 11. 11 and 103. I'recise
and un\ar\inf: consistency in fitrurativc expression does iu)t
enter into Shelley's th(>Mr\' I'f art.
310-3.33. Tli(^ critic scourged.
3- 1 30(). An iniaginatiye adxcnturing into tiie realm of
the i;t(>rna!.
340. Cf. 1. 370. and note thereon.
212 313. ]?eyert to 11. 19 and S4. Cf. J.yn(ln!>. 1. 100,
344. "thr" dream f>f lifcv" A Tihras(> ]ieculiarly character-
istic of Shollev's cenius and philosophy. See Introduction,
pp. Ix and Ixi. Cf. .4 Midsionmrr Xiyht's Drram, Act IV,
2t;4
NOTES
PACK
I
il
m
S,.. 1, II. nS-GO; Art V, Sr. 1. II. L'OS-'inO; nn.l S^^^nl)urnp•s
sonnet, On h'lihni llniirrn'rhj : —
Up I'fM D,, ilrr.-iiii w.irili uakinu: so lip s;ii,l,
III' u|].. v|..|,|,|s r„,w <.ri .li-at'i's t riiiMiplcil stcpp,
A\\.ik. ;iim| ,,,|t ,,f lif,. «||,.r,.iri « (. .-ii.i.p
An. I .Ir.Mrii nf wl,:,i 1„. kiious .■in.l >,■<•-., l„.iiiir .lp:i.i."
?12 ,1ir.. '•pli;mt(.ins." ("f r.rv;iiifs 77/^/>/,;/,Y'.v/s, 11 ^-M
•MS .■{:.!. ('{, \\;,i, \\ iiiiiiian's rnisirci'iil Fulhrimj: —
" I'lMisivp mihI frilirri' ir,
'I'lip \V(inl-i, ^/i/' (/,-;</. I wiite ;
For livitir; nrc the (ipail ;
(Il;ipl\- tj,,. ,,,ily liviris;, only rr.-i!.
Ami I the aiiiJiiriiion — I tiie spertre.) "
rf also nr S,vsitirr Phnit. 11 'MW-'M:, ■ I'rnnirthrv!, fn-
hnuml. Ill, ;}, -JJT-JIS. J'lato and .K.divius pr. sint sin.iiar
.'^.vi. ff. 11. uvj-inr!.
;!t')(i. Cf. I'.ion's Linnrnf for Admiis: "f'caso f"\-t|i(Tfa
froni tliv l.-inirntations. to-dav rcfr;iin from tiiv (lir<--cs '"'
(tr. Lanp:.! ' ' '
213 37()-:iS7. (T. witi, tliis lii-rli [lantlit'iVfifdutlMir^f kin.lrcd
IiassMircs in -'xcral of tiicj^ivat clcirio: Li/ri,l„s, II. is;5-is.-,-
hi Mrworiiim, Lyrics 4() and 130; TIn/rsis, stanzas IS-lo'
rtc. ■ '
214 ;^!.'"-'l I. Till- caircr welcome of .Vdon.iis l.v timse of lii.s
spn-itu;d kindred, wjio, like liim, were cut off before inatiir-
itv.
:W). "riialterton." Tlionias Phatferton (1752-70) was
a yoiinir romantic iioe* of urcat promise, who sh-w iiiniself
at eiirhteen.
■101. "Sidnev." .'^ir Pliilip Sidnev (l.".l-l,^,Sf,) w;i'; nn
T-.h/.alietlian writer ,ind st.atesman, wlio di<'d in tiie l.attle
of Ziitplicn. ajred t Iiirtv-t wo.
401. " I.iican." Marcus Adikcus I.ncanus f a. n. nO-rf))
n Spani.ard l.v liirlli .and a f^omati liv citizenship, wrot("
thc_e[)ic /'/(ar.vr//(Vr ("ondenuicii to dr.ath for C(in'siHrins
:i,<rainst \ero, he took In^ own life at twenty-six.
41.V1!!."). The coneltidiniT ;i]M.strophe is jiddressed hv
the poet karirelv to hi^ own heart, as atTccted l.v the fact
of de;!th and t^fe mv-terv of the future.
21."> l;^S-4."0. A l.e.aufiful picture of the KnjrJish l.urvinff-
pl.ice at Home. See Introduction, p. l\i.
^ HI. •■one keen j.vramid." In menu.'-v , f (';,ii,s (^..^tius.
-10 t."l-4.")7. Shellev'sthre(-vear-(.ld son William was l.tirice
here. / ..
I'ii)^4r.4. This strontr. serene passaire unlr.cks the heart
of Sjiellev as luiet and thinker. See note on 1. 'Mi.
217 47S-4S6. The hope and aspiration of all the great ro-
NOTES
2tio
I'Atii;
iii.iiitic poet- .'irc ill i1h"-c liiifs, — lUiilc, \\ (ird-woi t li,
Ci'lfriilj^c, l-.iiirrxiii. Krat^ liiiii-flt.
■_M7 t'^'l I'^l- *'l- W "ril-.uiiM ir> (ii!( "II I iiiitiKitiniis (ij liii-
niiirliilit'i, sl;in/.a.> o aiul '.t; I'l'. al-n Miclif\'> l,>-:iy, (In
I, r„l,u< Sf.it, .
•JIS Lines i" When the lamp is shattered").
Ci, 'j;, {•■ When |)a>-.inir> nance i> overpast ").
21!) -■'). 'I'lii' I'o't is >Iill aildre.-siiiir Love, wiio >li(iul<l not
clioose tor lii> cradle a weak liuinaii liearl.
2J() To Jane The Invitation.
This and tlie I'lillou iiiL' two poems were written and
aildre->sed to .lane William-, wife oi l.ienh iiani Ijiwaid
i;iliker William-. S.e introduction, pp. \lv and \l\iii
Parts of this and the .siicceedinii poem were oriniiiallv
l>ul)li>lied liy Mrs. .Shelley as a unit of poetry, entitled
'J'fii' I'm Fnnst (tj thr Ciiscinc tunr I'isii.
21\ 2't .vv/. 'T. {".merson's .1 /);-(7.
222 To Jane - The Recollection.
'J. i'he student will note that the metre of the intro-
ductory section is modified in the succ.'ediiif; section-, to
fjive unitv of movement to the " recollection" proper. Note
also tli(> finelv vagrant ethct of the alliterative first foot
in I. !», .and of the ciiaiiL'e from iamnus to trochee in " forest."
22:5 21. ■•seriHMits interlaced." .siiellev, and Hrowniiii; a.s
stimul.ated liv .Shelley, weic im.auiiiat ivelv much intere-led
in -nakes. ]5vroii, indeed, called Shellev "the Sn.ake," on
account of his "liri^ht e\'es, slim fiiiure, and noiseless
movement-." Cf. Mn^lur,' II. 22S, ;VJ."). t:5S; Thr l{ir»lt
of Isldiii. ('anl<i I, -tanz.as s IVA; To !■'.<! inin! WiUiniiix,
stanza 1; .\'ln,iair<. 1. I'.tT: Mvnt lilmn-. I. lOl : (>i!r to
Lihiiii/. II 11!t, 210; soiii: of Heatri<'e in The Citiri; I'ro-
i,i,tlnus CiboiuHl, 1, (i;«; II. 4. 102; III, 2, 72; 111, ■!.
•127; IV, ;5().'), .')()7; The Asfsnssins, chapter iv.
:Vi. Note the realistic effect of tlie conjunction of the
iamhus, "sv wood" with tlie trochee, ' jx'cker."
12. The Trelawny MS. lias "white." "Wide" is pre- 4
feraMe as deepcninj: fh(> antithesis l)etw(>en the remote
(ii-tance and "the .soft flower Keneatli our feet."
221 .').') .^'/. CI' 7'/;.' f7o,/f/, 11. .")(1-,')N.
22.") With a Guitar, to Jane.
Trelawiiv thus describes liis discoverv of Shellev in the
pine forest, wliere he sat composinu the ])re.sent poem:
"The strong liirht Mrea!ned throuirli the openinj: of the
trees. One of the pini's, imderniined liv the water, h.ad
fallen into it I'nder it- lee, and nearlv hidden, sat the
Poet, jra/.iiu: on the d.ark mirror hetieatli, so lost in lis
bardi-h reverie that he did not hear mv appro.ach. Theie
the trees were .-tunted and bent, and th.-ir crowns were
.shorn like friars bv the se.a bree/es, exceptini: a clu-ter
of three, uiiiler which Shellevs traps were lvin;r; tlie.se
266
pAoi;
yoTES
i
ovcrtuppcd tin- rr^. To avdiil startling' the I'o.t out <
lii> tliiaiii, 1 »|iiatt((l liiul.i- Ihr liil'ty tivcs. aiul (i|itiii d li
iuMiks. ( liic \\a- a voliinir <.!' Iii> favniirilc (irtcL (Iraliiati-
SdphiK lr> . . . .-iiul llic (j: lirr \\a~ a \nlunic 111 Sliakr-|"':iii
1 llic'ii liailcil lini. anil, turning lii.> ImmiI. liu aliNUrrr
faintly:
" ' IIipIIo, ((iiiic in.'
"'Is this vdiir .--I iiilv?' I asked.
"'\i>,' III- an-wrri'd, 'and tlicse trees are inv Ixioks-
(liey tell no lies. Vciii are sittini; (Hi tlie stiml (if inspji-at ion
lie exelainiecl. . . . ■|.i>ten to (lie soieinil niU-ie ill tl
liille-lops don't voil hear tlie Iliolirnt'ul IliUlliiui ini^s (
1 lie sea .
■■Jane, with her ,i;rai'e, and suavity, and iilaiid inolioii
and Mioihiiit: words, was ccneeived liy him ;us t he dispeii-i
of .ail e\i|ili--ile felieiu. to which her husli.alid had :i til
cl.ailn, ImiI tl \(ll|o\\ ot which llii;,dit lie Shelle\ '■- o\M
Ilow could he ad((|U:ilel\ express hi-, pleasure ill her^'clllli
liess, her pehet r.it iliir eharitv, her ilieflahle telidernes,-
She should he the (^)ueeii of .\iuitv and halc\'oii hour
with IMward W illiani- for a fortunate I'rinee Consort, ai
|i.' -l|(Hild he her hunihle t rouhai.loiir ; or call the pa
I'eidinand and .Miranda, with .'^hellev for their f.aithf
.\riel. " i )owdeli's /.//> ,11,171.
See Introduction, p, \ii, lor a coiniiarison of .■-<hellev wii
.\riel, the -|irite of Sh,akesl>eare's 7'( iiijn st. See also note <
<><lr In III, \\',.-<l W'nill.
I'2S '.M). {''or '■l''rii'nd" several editions have ",Iane." '11
former word is not inconj^ruous with the Ariel-.Mirani
faurv.
!
1 1
ni
I'dlt (lilt ot
I i>|>i'llr(l \i'\-i
^ (ll^iln;il l-t ,
'li;iki~|"':ilr
iL' ;iliN\\t'riii
ilV Ixiol^s —
ilis|)ii:il idii,'
iii>ic ill till-
riiiiiiini;> nf
11(1 nil >i idiis,
lie (li>|)t'ii-<('r
li;i(l a lli^t
icIIi'N'-' ii\\ II.
[I luT ^'('lltlc-
t(ll(l(TIICSS ?
cvdii lii'iir^,
'mixirt , :iiiil
all the pair
heir failiiful
Slicllcv with
al><i iKitc (iiv
•lane." ■I'lio
rill-Miraiida