UC-NRLF 
 
 B 3 S7T MSb 
 
BEUKEIEY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
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EPIPSYCHIDION 
 
 Price, 2s. 
 
[Mrs. Sbelley classes EpipsychicUon among the poems -wi-itteu in 1821 : 
 in a letter to Leigh Hunt dated the 29th of December, 1820, and of which 
 a portion is iiublished in Hunt's Correspondence (Vol I, p. 160), she seems 
 to refer to it as being already -mitten ; but only seems, for the context of 
 the letter, -which is extant, shews that there is no reference to Shelley or 
 Epipsyclddion in the passage wherein those names were inserted by Thornton 
 Hunt. Whatever be the date of completion, the poem was sent to Mr. OUier, 
 ■to be published, in a letter dated the 16th of February, 1821, printed in the 
 Shelley Memorials (pp. 152-3), in which Shelley says, "The longer poem, I 
 desire, should not be considered as my o-n-n ; indeed, in a certain sense, it is 
 the production of a portion of me already dead ; and in this sense the advert- 
 isement is no fiction. It is to be published simply for the esoteric few ; 
 and I make its author a secret, to avoid the malignity of those who tm-n 
 sweet food into poison; transforming all they touch into the corruption of 
 then- own natures. My wish with respect to it is that it should be printed 
 immediately in the simj^lest form, and merely one hundred copies : those who 
 are capable of judging and feeling rightly with respect to a composition of so 
 abstruse a nature, certainly do not arrive at that number — among those, at 
 least, who would ever be excited to read an obscure and anonj-mous produc- 
 tion ; and it would give me no pleasure that the vulgar should read it. If you 
 have any bookselling reason against publishing so small a number as 
 a hundred, merely distribute copies among those to whom you think the 
 poetry would afford any pleasure." It was printed as an octavo pamphlet, 
 sewed, without wrapper, consisting of fly-title Epipsychidion — Price, 2s., 
 title-page (as opposite), 1 page of preface called "Advertisement" -with 
 stanza from Dante at back, and text pp. 7 to 31. There is an imprint at 
 the back of the fly-title, as follows : — "London. Printed by S. & R. Bentley 
 Dorset-Street, Salisbury-Square." The name of the lady, omitted from the 
 title-page, was Vi-\-iani, — the convent that of St. Anne, Pisa. I have not 
 been able to ascertain that there is in existence any finished MS. of 
 Epipsychidion. — H. B. F.] 
 
EPIPSYCHIDION 
 
 VEESES ADDEESSED TO THE NOBLE 
 
 AND UNFOETUNATE LADY 
 
 EMILIA V 
 
 NOW IMPRISONED IN THE CONVENT OF 
 
 L'auima amante si slancia fuori del creato, e si crea nel 
 infinito un Moiido tutto per essa, diverso assai da questo 
 oscuro e pauroso baratro. Her own words. 
 
 LONDON 
 C AND J OLLIEE VEEE STEEET BOND STEEET 
 
 MDCCCXXI. 
 
My Song, I fear that thou wilt find hut few 
 Wlio fitly shall conceive thy reasoning, 
 Of such hard matter dost thou entertain ; 
 Wlience, if hy misadventure, chance should hrii 
 Thee to base company, (as chance may do) 
 Quite unaware of what thou dost contain, 
 I prithee, comfort thy sweet self again, 
 My last delight ! tell them that they are dull, 
 And bid them own that thou art beautiful. 
 
ADYEKTISEMENT. 
 
 [by SHELLEY.] 
 
 The Writer of the following Lines died at Florence, as 
 lie was preparing for a voyage to one of the wildest of the 
 Sporades, which he had bought, and where he had fitted 
 up the ruins of an old building, and where it was his hope 
 to have realised a scheme of life, suited perhaps to that 
 happier and better world of which he is now an inhabit- 
 ant, but hardly practicable in this. His life was singu- 
 lar ; less on account of the romantic vicissitudes which 
 diversified it, than the ideal tinge which it received 
 from his own character and feelings. The present Poem, 
 like the Vita Nuova of Dante, is sufficiently intelligible 
 to a certain class of readers without a matter-of-fact 
 history of the circumstances to which it relates ; and 
 to a certain other class it must ever remain incom- 
 prehensible, from a defect of a common organ of perception 
 for the ideas of which it treats. Not but that, gran 
 verr/ogna sarehbc a colul, che rimasse cosa sotto vesfe di figura, 
 di colore rettorico : e domandato non sapesse dcnudare U 
 sue parole da cotal veste, in guisa che avessero verace intendi- 
 mcnto.'^ 
 
 The present poem appears to have been intended by the 
 Writer as the dedication to some longer one. The stanza 
 on the opposite^ P^gs is almost a literal translation from 
 
 ^ Mr. Eossetti translates this quo- ed the meaning of every hne in this 
 
 tation from Dante thus : " Great were most wondi-ous poem, the main charge 
 
 his shame who should rhyme any- against which is that there are some 
 
 thing under a garb of metaphor or few personal allusions that it is im- 
 
 rhetorical colour, and then, being possible to expound with certainty in 
 
 asked, should be incapable of stripping his absence. 
 
 his words of this garb so that they ^ From the word opposite being em- 
 might have a veritable meaning." ployed here in Shelley's edition, it may 
 No doubt Shelley could have expound- be fairly assumed that, although the 
 
 786 
 
6 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Dante's famous Canzone 
 
 Vol, dC intendendo, U terzo del movete, d'C. 
 
 The presumptuous application of the concluding lines to 
 his own composition will raise a smile at the expense of 
 my unfortunate friend : be it a smile not of contempt, but 
 pity.i 
 
 S. 
 
 stanza was printed on the back of the 
 "advertisement," he meant it to be 
 on the back of the title-page ; and I 
 accordingly give it there, — as indeed, 
 Mrs. Shelley, in her first edition of 
 1839, gave it at the back of a fly-title, 
 and facing the "advertisement." Inher 
 second edition of 1839 it preceded the 
 "advertisement," on the same page ; 
 and the wording was curiously changed 
 to on the above page. Mr. Eossetti 
 also prints the stanza above the " ad- 
 vertisement," on the same page, but 
 makes a still more curious variation 
 of Shelley's text by reading on the pre- 
 ceding page, instead of on the opposite 
 page. 
 
 ^ AVriting to Mr. John Gisborne 
 from Pisa on the 22nd of October, 
 1821, Shelley said {Essays, tfcc, Vol. 
 II., p. 333-4), "The Epipsychidion 
 is a mystery ; as to real flesh and 
 blood, you know I do not deal in 
 those articles ; you might as well go 
 to a gin shop for a leg of mutton, as 
 exjject anything human or earthly 
 from me. I desired Oilier not to 
 circulate this j)iece except to the 
 (TweTol, and even they, it seems, are 
 inclined to approximate me to the 
 circle of a servant girl and her sweet- 
 heart. But I intend to write a sym- 
 posium of my own to set all this 
 right." 
 
EPIPSYCHIDION^ 
 
 Sweet Spirit ! Sister of tliat orphan one, 
 Wliose empire is tlie name tliou weepest on,^ 
 In my heart's temple I suspend to thee 
 These votive wreaths of withered memory. 
 
 Poor captive bird ! who, from thy narrow cage, 
 Pourest such music, that it might assuage 
 The rugged hearts of those who prisoned thee, 
 Were they not deaf to all sweet melody ; 
 This song shall be thy rose : its petals pale 
 Are dead, indeed, my adored Nightingale ! 
 But soft and fragrant is the faded blossom. 
 And it has no thorn left to wound thy bosom. 
 
 ^ The meaning of this title has been 
 much discussed. Without pretend- 
 ing to any classical authority, I may 
 note that I cannot discern any signifi- 
 cation beyond the simple one, " a 
 little poem about the soul." 
 
 ■^ There ought to be no need of 
 explanation here ; but Mr. Rossetti 
 says "the couplet has often been cited 
 as unintelligible," — owing, proba- 
 blj-, to that fruitful source of mystifi- 
 cation and corruption, the foot-note 
 wherein Professor Craik {English Lite- 
 rature and Language, Vol. II., pp. 
 498 — 500) lays down, among other 
 absurdities, that " it is difficult not to 
 susiject something WTong" in this 
 " strange commencement," as he calls 
 it. There can be no reasonable doubt 
 that Mr. Garnett's explanation {Relics 
 of SIicllc;/, p. 97) is right : " The 
 
 orphan one, Emilia's spiritual sister, 
 is Mary Shelley, whose mother died, 
 in giving her birth ; the name is 
 Shelley's own." When Mr. Rossetti's 
 edition was reviewed in T/ie Times, 
 occasion was given to Mr. Garnett to 
 address to the editor of that Journal 
 a disclaimer as to a motive which the 
 reviewer ascribed to this very simple 
 explanation. Mr. Garnett's letter set- 
 tles the question, if it was not settled 
 before : he saj^s — "I proposed, or rather 
 stated, my interpretation simply be- 
 cause I knew it to be right. Its cor- 
 rectness is shown by the circumstance 
 that Emilia Viviani and Mrs. Shelley 
 were accustomed to address each other 
 as 'sisters.' Many letters from the 
 former to the latter are preserved, in 
 all of which Mrs. Shelley is addressed 
 as ' Cara Sorella.' " 
 
EPIPSYCHIDIOX. 
 
 High, spirit- winged Heart ! who dost for ever 
 Beat thine unfeeling bars with vain endeavour, 
 TilP those bright phnnes of thought, in which arrayed 
 It over-soared this- low and worldly shade, le 
 
 Lie shattered ; and thy panting, wounded breast 
 Stains with dear blood its unmaternal nest ! 
 I weep vain tears : blood would less bitter be. 
 Yet poured forth gladlier, could it profit thee. 20 
 
 Seraph of Heaven ! too gentle to be human. 
 Veiling beneath that radiant form of AVoman 
 All that is insupportable in thee 
 Of light, and love, and immortality ! 
 Sweet Benediction in the eternal Curse ! 25 
 
 Veiled Glory of this lampless Universe ! 
 Thou ]\Ioon beyond the clouds ! Thou living Form 
 Among the Dead ! Thou Star above the Storm ! 
 Thou Wonder, and thou Beauty, and thou Terror ! 
 Thou Harmony of Nature's art ! Thou Mirror 30 
 
 In whom, as in the splendour of the Sun, 
 All shapes look glorious which thou gazest on ! 
 Aye,^ even the dim words which obscure thee now 
 Flash, lightning-like, with unaccustomed glow ; 
 I pray thee that thou blot from this sad song sr. 
 
 All of its much mortality and wrong. 
 With those clear drops, wliicli start like sacred dew 
 From the twin lights thy sweet soul darkens through. 
 Weeping, till sorrow becomes ecstasy : 
 Then smile on it, so that it may not die. 40 
 
 I never thought before my death to see 
 Youth's vision thus made perfect. Emily, 
 I love thee; though the world Ijy no thin name 
 
 1 In Shelley's edition, 'Till. habitually sjielt the word with a 
 
 - In Shelley's edition, Ay ; but he final e. 
 
KPIPSYflHlDION. 9 
 
 Will hide that love, from its unvalued shame. 
 
 Would we two had been twins of the same mother ! 45 
 
 Or, that the name my heart lent to another 
 
 Could be a sister's bond for her and thee, 
 
 Blending two beams of one eternity ! 
 
 Yet were one lawful and the other true. 
 
 These names, though dear, could paint not, as is due, 
 
 How beyond refuge I am thine. Ah me 
 I am not thine : I am a part of thee. 
 
 51 
 
 Sweet Lamp ! my moth-like Muse has burnt its wings ; 
 Or, like a dying swan who soars and sings. 
 Young Love should teach Time, in his own grey style. 
 All that thou art. Art thou not void of guile, 56 
 
 A lovely soul formed to be blest and' bless? 
 A well of sealed and secret happiness, 
 Whose waters like blithe light and music are, 
 Vanquishing dissonance and gloom ? A Star eo 
 
 Which moves not in the moving Heavens, alone ? 
 A smile amid dark frowns ? a gentle tone 
 Amid rude voices ? a belovM light ? 
 A Solitude, a Eefuge, a Delight ? 
 
 A Lute, which those whom love has taught to play 60 
 Make music on, to soothe the roughest day 
 And lull fond grief asleep ? a buried treasure ? 
 A cradle of young thoughts of wingless pleasure ? 
 A violet-shrouded grave of Woe ? — I measure 
 The world of fancies, seeking one like thee, 70 
 
 And find — alas ! mine own infirmity. 
 
 She met me, Stranger, upon life's rough way. 
 And lured me towards sweet Death ; as Night by Day, 
 Winter by Spring, or Sorrow by swift Hope, 
 Led into light, life, peace. An antelope, 75 
 
 In the suspended impulse of its lightness, 
 p. 2 
 
10 EPIPSYCHIDIO^^. 
 
 Were less setherially^ light : tlie brightness 
 
 Of her clivinest presence trembles through 
 
 Her limljs, as underneath a cloud of dew 
 
 Embodied in the windless Heaven of June si 
 
 Amid the splendour-winged stars, the Moon 
 
 Burns, inextinguishably beautiful : 
 
 And from her lips, as from a hyacinth full 
 
 Of honey-dew, a liquid murmur drops, 
 
 Killing the sense with passion ; sweet as stops st 
 
 Of planetary music heard in trance. 
 
 In her mild lights the starry spirits dance. 
 
 The sun-beams of those wells which ever leap 
 
 Under the lightnings of the soul— too deep 
 
 For the brief fathom-line of thought or sense. 90 
 
 The glory of her being, issuing thence. 
 
 Stains the dead, blank, cold air with a warm sliade 
 
 Of unentangied intermixture, made 
 
 By Love, of liglit and motion : one intense 
 
 Diffusion, one serene Omnipresence, 95 
 
 "Wliose flowing outlines mingle in their ilowing 
 
 Around her cheeks and utmost fingers glowing 
 
 With the unintermitted blood, which there 
 
 Quivers, (as in a fleece of snow-like air 
 
 The crimson pulse of living morning quiver,) ^ 100 
 
 Continuously prolonged, and ending never. 
 
 Till tliey are lost, and in that Beauty furled 
 
 Which penetrates and clasps and fills the world; 
 
 Scarce visible from extreme loveliness. 
 
 ^ In Shelley's edition, ethereally. after a word wliich is not generally fol- 
 
 ? So in Shelley's and all editions up lowed by that mood. See my note on 
 
 to Mr. Rossetti's, wherein the line is when the moon. . . jmusc, in Zaon and 
 
 changed to— Ci/thna (Vol. I., p. 224). Notwith- 
 
 The crimson pulse of living Jlorn may standing the " horrid ^^olation of 
 
 cimver, grammar," as Mr. Rossetti calls it, 
 
 and it is suggested in a note that the the magic of Shelley's euphony seems 
 
 words morn may " might easilj" be to me here, as in that case, to vanish 
 
 misread and misprinted as " 9Worn my. with his editor's rectification. My 
 
 No doubt they might : yet I incline to brother, Alfred Forman, suggests that 
 
 the supposition that the line stands in Shelley used pulse here as a plural, 
 
 the first edition as Shelley meant it to with a jioetic instinct that, if that 
 
 stand, and that this is another c;tse in was not the jilural, it ought to be. 
 
 which he uses the subjunctive mood 
 
EriPSYCIIIDION. 11 
 
 Warm fragrance seems to fall from her light dress, 105 
 
 And her loose hair ; and where some heavy tress 
 
 The air of her own speed has disentwined, 
 
 The sweetness seems to satiate the faint wind ; 
 
 And in the soul a wild odour is felt, 
 
 Beyond the sense, like fiery dews that melt 110 
 
 Into the bosom of a frozen bud. 
 
 See where she stands ! a mortal shape indued 
 
 With love and life and light and deity. 
 
 And motion which' may change but cannot die ; 
 
 An image of some bright Eternity ; 115 
 
 A shadow of some golden dream; a Splendour 
 
 Leaving the third sphere pilotless ; a tender 
 
 Eeflection of^ the eternal Moon of Love 
 
 Under whose motions life's dull billows move ; 
 
 A Metaphor of Spring and Youth and Morning ; 120 
 
 A Vision like incarnate April, warning, 
 
 With smiles and tears, Frost the Anatomy 
 
 Into his summer grave. 
 
 Ah, woe is me ! 
 Wliat have I dared ? where am I lifted ? how 
 Shall I descend, and perish not ? I know 12.5 
 
 That Love makes all things equal : I have heard 
 By mine own heart this joyous truth averred : 
 The spirit of the worm beneath the sod 
 In love and worship, blends itself with God. 
 
 Spouse ! Sister ! Angel ! Pilot of the Fate lao 
 
 Whose course has been so starless ! too late 
 Beloved ! too soon adored, by me ! 
 For in the fields of immortality 
 My spirit should at first have worshipped thine, 
 A divine presence in a place divine; 135 
 
 ^ In Mrs. Shelley's editions we read reading of Shelley's edition, of, which 
 for of. Mr. Rossetti reverts to the is of course right. 
 
12 EPIPSYCHIDIOX. 
 
 Or slioiild have moved Ijeside it on this earth, 
 
 A shadow of that substance, from its birth ; 
 
 But not as now :---! love thee ; yes, I feel 
 
 That on the fountain of my heart a seal 
 
 Is set, to keep its waters pure and bright 140 
 
 For thee, since in those tears thou hast delight. 
 
 We — are we not formed, as notes of music are,^ 
 
 For one another, though dissimilar ; 
 
 Such difference without discord, as can make 
 
 Those sweetest sounds, in which all spirits shake 145 
 
 As trembling leaves in a continuous air ? 
 
 Thy wisdom speaks in me, and bids me dare 
 Beacon the rocks on which high hearts are wreckt. 
 I never was attached to that great sect, 
 Whose doctrine is, that each one should select 150 
 
 •Out of the crowd a mistress or a friend. 
 And all the rest, though fair and wise, commend 
 To cold oblivion, though it is in^ the code 
 Of modern morals, and the beaten road 
 Which those poor slaves with weary footsteps tread, 155 
 Who travel to their home among the dead 
 By the broad highway of the world, and. so 
 With one chained friend, perhajis a jealous foe. 
 The dreariest and the longest journey go. 
 
 ^ This line is so pi-inted in all edi- the word in, correctly as he says ; but 
 
 tions known to me. Mr. Rossetti says its incoiTectness was finally demon- 
 
 "It seems to me almost a certainty strated when Mr. Garnett, having 
 
 that the opening ' We ' in this line access to the same MS. books from 
 
 ought to be cancelled." The in-e- which Mrs. Shelley got the fragment, 
 
 gularity strikes me, on the contrary, printed the line with the word in 
 
 as peculiarly beautiful and character- {Relics of Shelley, p. 3 i). Mr. Garnett 
 
 istic. gives the words though 'tis in the code ; 
 
 ^ The word In is in Shelley's edition but whether the abbre-sdation of it is 
 and in those of Mrs. Shelley and Mr. his or Shelley's I have been unable to 
 Rossetti. Professor Craik wanted it ■ ascertain. It seems to me that Pro- 
 cut out {English Literature and Lan- fessor Craik's proposal had no claim 
 ffuage, Vol II., p. 499), and cited in whatever to be entertained : the doc- 
 support of his view the fragment at trine referred to is not the code of 
 page 319 of the second edition of 1839, modern morals, but only a part" of 
 wherein the line is printed without it, and therefore in the code. 
 
EPIPSYCHIDION. 1 3 
 
 True Love in this differs from gold and clay, loo 
 
 That to divide is not to take away. 
 Love is like understanding, that grows bright. 
 Gazing on many truths ; 'tis like thy light, 
 Imagination ! which from earth and sky, 
 And from the depths of human phantasy, i65 
 
 As from a thousand prisms and mirrors, fills 
 The Universe with glorious beams, and kills 
 Error, the worm, with many a sun-like arrow 
 Of its reverberated lightning. Narrow 
 The heart that loves, the brain that contemplates, 170 
 The life that wears, the spirit that creates 
 One object, and one form, and builds thereby 
 A sepulchre for its eternity. 
 
 Mind from its object differs most in this : 
 Evil from good; misery from happiness ; 175 
 
 The baser from the nobler ; the impure 
 And frail, from what is clear and must endure. 
 If you divide suffering and dross, you may 
 Diminisli till it is consumed away; 
 
 If you divide pleasure and love and thought, 18) 
 
 Each part exceeds the whole ; and we know not 
 How much, while any yet remains unshared. 
 Of pleasure may be gained, of sorrow spared : 
 This truth is that deep well, whence sages draw 
 The unenvied light of hope ; the eternal law i85 
 
 By which those live, to whom this world of life 
 Is as a garden ravaged, and whose strife 
 Tills for the promise of a later birth 
 The wilderness of this Elysian earth. 
 
 There was a Being whom my spirit oft 100 
 
 Met on its visiontxl wanderings, far aloft, 
 
14 EPIPSYCHIDION. 
 
 In the clear golden prime of my youth's dawn, 
 
 Upon the fairy isles of sunny lawn, 
 
 Amid the enchanted mountains, and the caves 
 
 Of divine sleej), and on the air-like waves 
 
 Of wonder-level dream, whose tremulous floor 
 
 Paved her light steps ; — on an imagined shore, 
 
 Under the grey beak of some promontory 
 
 She met me, robed in such exceeding glory, • 
 
 That I beheld her not. In solitudes 
 
 Her voice came to me through the whispering woods. 
 
 And from the fountains, and the odours deep 
 
 Of flowers, which, like lips murmuring in their sleep 
 
 Of the sweet kisses which had lulled them there, 
 
 Breathed but of her to the enamoured air; 
 
 And from the breezes whether low or loud. 
 
 And from the rain of every passing cloud. 
 
 And from the singing of tlie summer-birds, 
 
 And from all sounds, all silence. In the words 
 
 Of antique verse and high romance, — in form,i 
 
 Sound, colour — in whatever checks that Storm 
 
 Which with the shattered present chokes the past ; 
 
 And in that best philosophy, whose taste 
 
 Makes this cold common heU, our life, a doom 
 
 As glorious as a fiery martyixlom ; 
 
 Her Spirit was the harmony of truth. — 
 
 Then, from the caverns of my dreamy youth 
 I sprang, as one sandalled with plumes of fire. 
 And towards the loadstar of my one desire, 
 I flitted, like a dizzy moth, whose flight 
 Is as a dead leafs in the owlet light. 
 When it would seek in Hesper's setting sphere 
 A radiant death, a fiery sepulchre, 
 As if it were a lamp of earthly flame. — 
 
 ' This comma is wanting in Shelley's edition. 
 
EPIPSYCHIDION. 15 
 
 But She, whom prayers or tears then could not tame, 
 
 Past, like a God throned on a winged planet, 22c 
 
 Whose burning plumes to tenfold swiftness fan it. 
 
 Into the dreary cone of our life's shade ; 
 
 And as a man with mighty loss dismayed, 
 
 I would have followed, though the grave between 230 
 
 Yawned like a gulf whose spectres are unseen : 
 
 When a voice said: — "0 Thou of hearts the weakest, 
 
 " The phantom is beside thee whom thou seekest." 
 
 Then I — "where ?" the world's echo answered "where !" 
 
 And in that silence, and in my despair, 235 
 
 I questioned every tongueless wind that flew 
 
 Over my tower of mourning, if it knew 
 
 Whither 'twas fled, this soul out of my soul ; 
 
 And murmured names and spells which have controul 
 
 Over the sightless tyrants of our fate ; 240 
 
 But neither prayer nor verse could dissipate 
 
 The night which closed on her ; nor uncreate 
 
 That world within this Chaos, mine and me, 
 
 Of which she was the veiled Divinity, 
 
 The world I say of thoughts that worshipped her : 245 
 
 And therefore I went forth, with hope and fear 
 
 And every gentle passion sick to death, 
 
 deeding my course with expectation's breath. 
 
 Into the wintry forest of our life ; 
 
 And struggling through its error with vain strife, 250 
 
 And stumbling in my weakness and my haste, 
 
 And half bewildered by new forms, I past 
 
 Seeking among those untaught foresters 
 
 If I could find one form resembling hers, 
 
 In which she might have masked herself from me. 255 
 
 There, — One, whose voice was venomed melody 
 
 Sate by a well, under blue night-shade bowers ; 
 
 The breath of her false mouth was like faint flowers, 
 
 Her touch was as electric poison, — flame 
 
1 6 EPIPSYCIIIDION. 
 
 Out of lier looks into my vitals came, 2G( 
 
 And from her living clieeks and bosom flew 
 
 A killing air, which pierced like honey-dew 
 
 Into the core of my green heart, and lay 
 
 Upon its leaves ; until, as hair grown grey 
 
 O'er a young brow, they hid its unblown prime 201 
 
 With ruins of rmseasonable time. 
 
 In many mortal forms I rashly sought 
 The shadow of that idol of my thought. 
 And some were fair — but beauty dies away : 
 Others were wise — but honeyed words betray : 27 
 
 And One was true — oh ! why not true to me ? 
 Then, as a hunted deer that could iiot flee, 
 I turned upon my thoughts, and stood at bay. 
 Wounded and weak and panting ; the cold day 
 Trembled, for pity of my strife and pain. 27 
 
 Wlien, like a noon-day dawn, there shone again 
 Deliverance. One stood on my path who seemed 
 As like the glorious shape which I had dreamed, . 
 As is the Moon, whose changes ever run 
 Into themselves, to the eternal Sun ; 2s 
 
 The cold chaste Moon, the Queen of Heaven's bright isle;^ 
 Wlio makes all beautiful on which she smiles,^ 
 That wandering shrine of soft yet icy flaine 
 Which ever is transformed, yet still the same, 
 And warms not but illumines. Young and fair a 
 
 As the descended Spirit of that sphere, 
 She hid me, as the Moon may hide the night 
 From its own darkness, until all was bright 
 Between the Heaven and Earth of my calm mind. 
 And, as a cloud charioted by the wind, 2s 
 
 She led me to a cave in that wild place, 
 
 ^ lu Shelley's edition this line ends with a full-stop, doubtless a misprint. 
 
EPIPSYCHIDION. J. / 
 
 And sate beside me, with her downward face 
 
 Illumining my slumbers, like the Moon 
 
 Waxing and waning o'er Endymion. 
 
 And I was laid asleep, spirit and limb, 295 
 
 And all my being became bright or dim 
 
 As the Moon's image in a summer sea. 
 
 According as she smiled or frowned on me ; 
 
 And there I lay, within a chaste cold bed : 
 
 Alas, I then was nor alive nor dead: — 300 
 
 For at her silver voice came Death and Life, 
 
 Unmindful each of their accustomed strife, 
 
 JNIasked like twin babes, a sister and a brother. 
 
 The wandering hopes of one abandoned mother. 
 
 And through the cavern without wings they flew, sjs 
 
 And cried " Away, he is not of our crew." 
 
 I wept, and though it l)e a dream, I weep. 
 
 AMiat storms then shook the ocean of my sleep, 
 Blotting that Moon, whose pale and waning lips 
 Then shrank as in the sickness of eclipse; — sic 
 
 And how my soul was as a lampless sea, 
 And who was then its Tempest ; and when She, 
 The Planet of that hour, was quenched, what frost 
 Crept o'er those waters, till^ from coast to coast 
 The moving billows of my being fell si; 
 
 Into a death of ice, immovable ^ ; — 
 And then — what earthcpiakes made it gape and split, 
 The white IVIoon smiling aU the while on it. 
 These words conceal : — If not, each word would be 
 The key of staunchless tears. Weep not for me ! 321 
 
 At length, into the obscure Forest came 
 The A^ision I had sought through grief and shame. 
 Athwart that wintry wilderness of thorns 
 
 1 In Shelley's edition, 'till. " In Shelley's edition, immoveahle. 
 
18 EPirSYGHIDION. 
 
 Flashed from her motion splendour like the Morn's, 
 
 And from her presence life was radiated 325 
 
 Through the grey earth and branches bare and dead ; 
 
 So that her way was paved, and roofed above 
 
 With flowers as soft as thoughts of budding love ; 
 
 And music from her respiration spread 
 
 Like light, — all other sounds were penetrated 330 
 
 By the small, still, sweet spirit of that sound, 
 
 So that the savage winds hung mute around ; 
 
 And odours warm and fresh fell from her hair 
 
 Dissolving the dull cold in the frore ^ air : 
 
 Soft as an Incarnation of the Sun, 335 
 
 When light is changed to love, this glorious One 
 
 Floated into the cavern where I lay, 
 
 And called my Spirit, and the dreaming clay 
 
 Was lifted by the thing that dreamed below 
 
 As smoke by fire, and in her beauty's glow 340 
 
 I stood, and felt the dawn of my long night 
 
 Was penetrating me with living light : 
 
 I knew it was the Vision veiled from me 
 
 So many years — that it was Emily. 
 
 Twin^ Spheres of light who rule this passive Earth, 
 This world of love, this mc ; and into birth 34!; 
 
 Awaken all its fruits and flo^7ers, and dart 
 Magnetic might into its central heart ; 
 And lift its billows and its mists, and guide 
 By everlasting laws, each wind and tide 350 
 
 To its fit cloud, and its appointed cave ; 
 And lull its storms, each in the craggy grave 
 Which was its cradle, luring to faint bowers 
 The armies of the rain-bow-wino;ed showers ; 354 
 
 ^ In Shelley's and Mrs. Shelley's "Sain Shelley's edition; but thin 
 
 editions we read froze ; but this is in Mis. Shelley's. 
 an obvious printer's blunder. 
 
EPIPSYCHIDIOX. 19 
 
 And, as those married lights, which from the towers 
 
 Of Heaven look forth and fold the wandering globe 
 
 In liquid sleep and splendour, as a robe ; 
 
 And all their many-mingled influence blend, 
 
 If equal, yet unlike, to one sweet end ; — 
 
 So ye, bright regents, with alternate sway sm 
 
 Govern my sphere of being, night and day ! 
 
 Thou, not disdaining even a borrowed might ; 
 
 Thou, not eclipsing a remoter light ; 
 
 And, through the shadow of the seasons three, 
 
 From Spring to Autumn's sere maturity, ses 
 
 Light it into the Winter of the tomb. 
 
 Where it may ri]3en to a brighter bloom. 
 
 Thou too, Comet beautiful and fierce, 
 
 "VMio drew the heart of this frail Universe 
 
 Towards thine own; till, wreckt in that convulsion, 370 
 
 Alternating attraction and repulsion. 
 
 Thine went astray and that was rent in twain ; 
 
 Oh, float into our azure heaven again! 
 
 Be there love's folding-star at thy return ; 
 
 Tlie living Sun will feed thee from its urn 375 
 
 Of golden fire ; the ]\Ioon will veil her horn 
 
 In thy last smiles ; adoring Even and Morn 
 
 Will worship thee with incense of calm breath 
 
 And lights and shadows ; as the star of Death 
 
 And Birth is worshipped by those sisters wild sso 
 
 Called Hope and Fear — upon the heart are piled 
 
 Their offerings, — of this sacrifice divine 
 
 A World shall he the altar. 
 
 Lady mine. 
 Scorn not these flowers of thought, the fading birth 
 Which from its heart of hearts that plant puts forth 
 Whose fruit, made perfect by thy sunny eyes, sso 
 
 Will Ije as of the trees of Paradise. 
 
20 EPIPSYCniDIOX. 
 
 The day is come, and thou wilt fly with me. 
 To whatsoe'er of dull mortality 
 Is mine, remain a vestal sister still ; 
 To the intense, the deep, the im^Derishable, 
 Not mine but me, henceforth be thou united 
 Even as a bride, delighting and delighted. 
 The hour is come: ---the destined Star has risen 
 Wliicli shall descend upon a A^acant j)rison. 
 The waUs are high, the gates are strong, thick set 
 The sentinels — but true love never yet 
 Was thus constrained : it overleaps all fence : 
 Like lightning, with invisible violence 
 Piercing its continents ; like Heaven's free breath, 
 Which he who grasps can hold not ; liker Death, 
 Who rides upon a thought, and makes his way 
 Through temple, tower, and palace, and the array 
 Of arms : more strength has Love than he or they ; 
 For it^ can burst his charnel, and make free 
 The limbs in chains, the heart in agony. 
 The soul in dust and chaos. 
 
 Emily, 
 A ship is floating in the harbour now, 
 A wind is hovering o'er the mountain's brow; 
 There is a path on the sea's azure floor. 
 No keel has ever ploughed that path before; 
 The halcyons brood around the foamless isles ; 
 The treacherous Ocean has forsworn its wiles ; 
 The merry mariners are bold and free : 
 Say, my heart's sister, wilt thou sail with me ? 
 Our bark is as an albatross, whose nest 
 
 1 In Shelley's edition, it : in Mrs. called it at the opening of the 
 
 Shelley's, he. Mr. Rossetti follows (line 398) ; and the sense intended 
 
 tliis latter reading, and makes a fui-ther seems to me to be that Love can 
 
 change by printing his in Italics. I burst Death's charnel, not its own 
 
 think it is clearly right ; for Love is charnel as Mr. Rossetti renders it. 
 
EPIPSYCHIDIOX. 21 
 
 Is a far Eden of the purple East; 
 
 And we between her wings will sit, while jSTight 
 
 And Day, and Storm, and Calm, pursue their flight, 
 
 Our ministers, along the boundless Sea, 420 
 
 Treading each other's heels, unheededly. 
 
 It is an isle under Ionian skies, 
 
 Beautiful as a wreck of Paradise, 
 
 And, for the harbours are not safe and good, 
 
 This land would have remained a solitude 425 
 
 But for some pastoral people native there, 
 
 Wlio from the Elysian, clear, and golden air 
 
 Draw the last spirit of the age of gold. 
 
 Simple and spirited ; innocent and bold. 
 
 The blue ^gean girds ^ this chosen home, 430 
 
 With ever-changing sound and light and foam. 
 
 Kissing the sifted sands, and caverns hoar ; 
 
 And all the winds wandering along the shore 
 
 Undulate with the undulating tide : 
 
 There are tliick woods where sylvan forms abide ; 435 
 
 And many a fountain, rivulet, and pond. 
 
 As clear as elemental diamond, 
 
 Or serene morning air ; and far beyond, 
 
 The mossy tracks made by the goats and deer 
 
 (Which the rough shepherd treads but once a year,) 440 
 
 Pierce into glades, caverns, and bowers, and halls 
 
 Built round with ivy, which the waterfalls 
 
 Illumining, with sound that never fails 
 
 Accompany the noon-day nightingales ; 
 
 And all the place is peopled with sweet airs ; 445 
 
 The light clear element which the isle wears 
 
 Is heavy with the scent of lemon-flowers, 
 
 Wliich floats like mist laden with unseen showers. 
 
 ^ In Mrs. Shelley's first edition of r/irds was restored in the second edi- 
 1 839, ffirls was printed for fflrcls ; hut tion of the same year. 
 
22 EPIPSYCHIDIOX. 
 
 And falls upon the eye-lids like faint sleej) ; 
 
 And from the moss violets and jonquils peep, 
 
 And dart their arrowy odour through the brain 
 
 'Till you might faint with that delicious pain. 
 
 And every motion, odour, beam, and tone, 
 
 With that deep music is in unison : 
 
 Which is a soul within the soul ---they seem 
 
 Like echoes of an antenatal dream. — 
 
 It is an isle 'twixt Heaven, Air, Earth, and Sea, 
 
 Cradled, and hung in clear tranquillity ; 
 
 Bright as that wandering Eden Lucifer, 
 
 Washed by the soft blue Oceans of young air. 
 
 It is a favoured place. Famine or Blight, 
 
 Pestilence, War and Earthquake, never Light 
 
 Upon its mountain-peaks ; blind vultures, they 
 
 Sail onward far upon their fatal way : 
 
 The winged storms, chaunting their thunder-psalm 
 
 To other lands, leave azure chasms of calm 
 
 Over tliis isle, or weep themselves in dew. 
 
 From wliich its fields and woods ever renew 
 
 Their gTeen and golden immortality. 
 
 And from the sea there rise, and from the sky 
 
 There fall, clear exhalations, soft and bright. 
 
 Veil after veil, each hiding some deKght, 
 
 Which Sun or Moon or zephyr draw aside, 
 
 Till the isle's beauty, like a naked bride 
 
 Glowing at once with love and loveliness, 
 
 Blushes and trembles at its own excess : 
 
 Yet, like a buried lamp, a Soul no less 
 
 Burns in the heart of this delicious isle. 
 
 An atom of th' Eternal, whose own smile 
 
 Unfolds itseK, and may be felt,^ not seen 
 
 O'er the grey rocks, blue waves, and forests green. 
 
 Filling their bare and void interstices. — 
 
 1 This comma is wautuig in Slielley's edition. 
 
EPIPSYCHIDION. -lo 
 
 But the chief marvel of the wilderness 
 
 Is a lone dwelling, built by whom or how 
 
 None of the rustic island-people know : 4S6 
 
 'Tis not a tower of strength, though with its height 
 
 It overtops the woods ; but, for delight, 
 
 Some wise and tender Ocean-King, ere crime 
 
 Had been invented, in the world's young prime, 
 
 Eeared it, a wonder of that simple time, 400 
 
 An envy of the isles, a pleasure-house 
 
 Made sacred to his sister and his spouse. 
 
 It scarce seems now a wreck of human art. 
 
 But,, as it were Titanic ; in the heart 
 
 Of Earth having assumed its form, then grown 495 
 
 Out of the mountains, from the living stone. 
 
 Lifting itseK in caverns light and high : 
 
 For all the antique and learnM imagery 
 
 Has been erased, and in the place of it 
 
 The ivy and the wild-vine interknit 500 
 
 The volumes of their many twining^ stems ; 
 
 Parasite flowers iUume with dewy gems 
 
 The lampless haUs, and when they fade, the sky 
 
 Peeps through their winter-woof ^ of tracery 
 
 With Moon-Hght patches, or star atoms keen, 505 
 
 Or fragments of the day's intense serene ; — 
 
 Working mosaic on their Parian floors. 
 
 And, day and night, aloof, from the high towers 
 
 And terraces, the Earth and Ocean seem 
 
 To sleep in one another's arms, and dream 510 
 
 1 These are two words in Shelley's ^ Mr. Eossetti " cannot helji sus- 
 
 edition ; but in Mrs. Shelley's first pecting that Shelley wrote ' inter- 
 
 edition of 1839 weread maJiy-iiwinift^, woof.'" I am satisfied that winter- 
 
 as also in Mr. Rossetti's. It is a likely woof is right,— having reference to 
 
 enough compound word for Shelley to the distinction between the tracery of 
 
 use ; but the original reading is so per- bare stems seen against the sky in 
 
 fectly safe and sound, that there can winter and the massing of the foliage 
 
 be but little excuse for, or safety in, in flower-time, 
 emendation. 
 
24 EPIPSYCHIDION. 
 
 Of waves, flowers, clouds, woods, rocks, and all that wi 
 Eead in their smiles, and call reality. 
 
 This isle and house are mine, and I have vowed 
 Thee to be lady of the solitude. --- 
 And I have fitted up some chambers there 51 
 
 Looking towards the golden Eastern air, 
 And level with the living winds, which flow 
 Like waves above the living waves below. --- 
 I have sent books and music there, and all 
 Those instruments with which high spirits call 521 
 
 The future from its cradle, and the past 
 Out of its grave, and make the present last 
 In thoughts and joys which sleep, but cannot die. 
 Folded within their own eternity. 
 
 Our simple life wants little, and true taste 52; 
 
 Hires not the pale drudge Luxury, to waste 
 The scene it would adorn, and therefore still, 
 Nature with all her children, haunts the hill. 
 The ring-dove, in the embowering ivy, yet 
 Keeps up her love-lament, and the owls flit 53( 
 
 Eound the evening tower, and the young stars glance 
 Between the quick bats in their twilight dance ; 
 The spotted deer bask in the fresh moon-light 
 Before our gate, and the slow, silent night 
 Is measured by the pants of their calm sleep. 53; 
 
 Be this our home in life, and when years heap 
 Their withered hours, like leaves, on our deca}'", 
 Let us become the over-lianging day, 
 The living soul of this Elysian isle. 
 Conscious, inseparable, one. Meanwhile mc 
 
 We two wiU rise, and sit, and walk together. 
 Under the roof of blue Ionian weather. 
 And wander in the meadows, or ascend 
 
EPIPSYCHIDIOX. 2o 
 
 The mossy mountains, where th& blue heavens l)end 
 
 With lightest winds, to touch their paramour ; 545 
 
 Or linger, where the pebble-paven shore, 
 
 Under the quick, faint Idsses of the sea 
 
 Trembles and sparkles as with ecstasy,^- -- 
 
 Possessing and possest by all that is 
 
 Within that calm circumference of bliss, 550 
 
 And by each other, till to love and live 
 
 Be one: --- or, at the noontide hour, arrive 
 
 Where some old cavern hoar seems yet to keep 
 
 The moonlight of the expired night asleep. 
 
 Through which the awakened day can never peep ; 555 
 
 A veil for our seclusion, close as Night's, 
 
 Wliere secure sleep may kill thine innocent lights ; 
 
 Sleep, the fresh dew of languid love, the rain 
 
 Whose drops quench kisses till they burn again. 
 
 And we will talk, until thought's melody 56o 
 
 Become too sweet for utterance, and it die 
 
 In words, to live again in looks, which dart 
 
 With thrilling tone into the voiceless heart, 
 
 Harmonizing silence without a sound. 
 
 Our breath shall intermix, our bosoms bound, 565 
 
 And our veins beat together ; and our lips 
 
 With other eloquence than words, eclipse 
 
 The soul that burns between them, and the wells 
 
 Which boil under our being's inmost cells, 
 
 The fountains of our deepest life, shall be 570 
 
 Confused in passion's golden purity, 
 
 As mountain-springs under the morning Sun. 
 
 We shall become the same, we shall be one 
 
 Spirit within two frames, oh ! wherefore two ? 
 
 One passion in twin-hearts, which grows and grew, 575 
 
 In Shelley's edition, ecstacy, though the word is correctly spelt in line 39, p. 370. 
 C 2 
 
26 EPIPSYCHIDION. 
 
 TilP like two meteors of expanding flame, 
 
 Those spheres instinct with it become the same, 
 
 Touch, mingle, are transfigured ; ever still 
 
 Burning, yet ever inconsumable : 
 
 In one another's substance finding food. 
 
 Like flames too pure and light and unimbued 
 
 To nourish their bright lives with baser prey, 
 
 Wliich point to Heaven and cannot pass away : • 
 
 One hope within two wills, one will beneath 
 
 Two overshadowing minds, one life, one deatli. 
 
 One Heaven, one Hell, one immortality. 
 
 And one annDiilation. "Woe is me ! 
 
 The winged words on which my soul would pierce 
 
 Into the height of love's rare Universe, 
 
 Are chains of lead around its flight of fire.--- 
 
 I pant, I sink, I tremble, I expire ! 
 
 Weak Verses, go, kneel at your Sovereign's feet. 
 And say : — " We are the masters of thy slave ; 
 " Wliat wouldest thou with us and ours and thine ?" 
 Then call your sisters from Oblivion's cave, 
 All singing loud : " Love's very pain is sweet, 
 " But its reward is in the world divine 
 "Which, if not here, it builds beyond the grave." 
 So shall ye live when I am there. Then haste 
 Over the hearts of men, until ye meet 
 Marina, Vanna, Primus, ^ and the rest, 
 And bid them love each other and be blest : 
 And leave the troop which errs, and which reproves, 
 And come and be my guest, --- for I am Love's. 
 
 1 In Shelley's edition, ^Till. Williams, to whom Shelley had been 
 
 2 Marina is a pet-name of Mrs. introduced shortly before sendmg off 
 Shelley's : Vanna is the diminutive of EpipsycMdion to Mr. Oilier. I have 
 Giovanna (Joan or Jane), and might, seen no explanation offered as to 
 as Mr. Rossetti hints, refer to Mrs. Primus, and know of none. 
 
STUDIES FOR EPIPSYCHIDION. 27 
 
 STUDIES FOR EPIPSYCHIDION, AND CANCELLED 
 
 PASSAGES.! 
 
 Here, my dear friend, is a new book for you ; 
 
 I have already dedicated two 
 
 To other friends, one female and one male, — 
 
 What you are, is a thing that I must veil ; 
 
 What can this be to those who praise or rail ? 5 
 
 I never was attached to that great sect 
 
 Whose doctrine is that each one should select 
 
 Out of the world a mistress or a friend, 
 
 And all the rest, though fair and wise, commend 
 
 To cold oblivion — though 'tis in the code 10 
 
 Of modern morals, and the beaten road 
 
 Which those poor slaves with weary footsteps tread 
 
 Who travel to their home among the dead 
 
 By the broad highway of the world — and so 
 
 With one sad friend, and many a jealous foe, 15 
 
 The dreariest and the longest journey go. 
 
 Eree love has this, different from gold and clay, 
 That to divide is not to take away. 
 Like ocean, which the o-eneral north wind breaks 
 
 1 Uuder the general title of "Frag- 34 to 39), dated 1820, and lines 142 
 
 ments," Mrs. Shelley added, in her to 174 as four cancelled passages of 
 
 second edition of 1839, several exqui- Epipsychidion, aU dated 1821, and 
 
 site " gleanings from Shelley's manu- being Nos. XXXII to XXXV of the 
 
 script books and impers," the first of "•MiscellaneousFragments"(25p. 86 and 
 
 which, headed " To ," consisted of 87). It seems convenient to number 
 
 lines 1 to 37 and 62 to 91 of the ensu- the whole consecutively in this edi- 
 
 ing group of Studies, &c. The rest tion, as an addendum to i5}5yw^cA/rf/o?i. 
 
 were disentangled from the same The portions dated 1820 (lines 1 to 141) 
 
 sources by Mr. Garnett ; and he print- are obviously approaches to that most 
 
 ed the Avhole of them in his Relics of glorious poem, — metre and method 
 
 Shelley, — lines 1 to 141 iinder the very being alike identical in these and that, 
 
 appropriate title To His Genius, (pp. and indeed whole passages being also 
 
28 STUDIES FOR EPII'SYCHIDIOX, 
 
 Into ten thousand waves, and eacli one makes 
 A mirror of the moon — like some gTeat glass. 
 Which did distort whatever form might pass, 
 Dashed into fragments Ly a playful cliild, 
 Which then reflects its eyes and forehead mild ; 
 Giving for one, which it could ne'er express, 
 A thousand images of loveliness. 
 
 If I were one whom the loud world held wise, 
 I should disdain to quote authorities 
 In commendation ^ of this kind of love : — 
 Why there is first the God in heaven above. 
 Who wrote a book called Nature, 'tis to be 
 Eeviewed, I hear, in the next Quarterly; 
 And Socrates, the Jesus Christ of Greece, 
 And Jesus Christ himself did never cease 
 To urge all living things to love each other. 
 And to forgive their mutual faults, and smother 
 The Devil of disunion in their souls. 
 
 I love you ! — Listen, O embodied Eay 
 Of the great Brightness ; I must pass away 
 While you remain, and these light words must be 40 
 
 Tokens by which you may remember me. 
 Start not — the thing you are is imbetrayed, 
 If you are human, and if but the shade 
 
 identical ; but there is a tone of gentle of Shdley ; but that fragment, and 
 
 sarcasm which, appearing in these Ginevra, which also has some reference 
 
 approaches, had wholly worked off in to Emilia Yiviani, are different in 
 
 the progi-ess of the poet's mind towards method from these, and would not 
 
 the fervent and most earnest raptm-es foUow so appropriately here as in 
 
 of the ultimate poem. The fragment their place in the general distribution 
 
 Fiordispina, doubtless, may also be of posthumous poems, 
 regarded as a " preliminary though ^ So in Relics of Shdlei/ ; but in 
 
 unconscious "study for ^^?;psj/c^irfion, Mrs. Shelley's edition we read /« the 
 
 as Mr. Garnett says, at p. 29 of Relics suppmi; of &c. 
 
AND CANCELLED PASSAGES. 29 
 
 Of some sublimer spirit. 
 
 ***** 
 
 And as to friend or mistress, 'tis a form ; 45 
 
 Perhaps I wish you were one. Some declare 
 You a familiar spirit, as you are; 
 Others with a more inhuman 
 
 Hint that, though not my wife, you are a woman, 
 Wliat is the colour of your eyes and haii- ? 50 
 
 Wliy, if you were a lady, it were fair 
 The world should know — but, as I am afraid. 
 The Quarterly would bait you if betrayed ; 
 And if, as it will be sport to see them stumble 
 Over all sorts of scandals, hear them mumble 55 
 
 Their litany of curses — some guess right. 
 And others swear you're a Hermaphrodite ; 
 Like that sweet marble monster of both sexes, 
 With looks so sweet and gentle that it vexes 
 The very soul that the soul is gone oo 
 
 Wliich lifted from her limbs the veil of stone. 
 * * * * * 
 
 It is a sweet thing, friendship, a dear balm, 
 A happy and auspicious bird of calm. 
 Which rides o'er life's ever tumultuous Ocean; 
 A God that broods o'er chaos in commotion; 05 
 
 A flower which fresh as Lapland roses are. 
 Lifts its bold head into the world's frore^ air. 
 And blooms most radiantly when others die. 
 Health, hope, and youth, and brief prosperity ; 
 And with the light and odour of its bloom, 70 
 
 Shining within the dungeon and the tomb ; 
 Whose coming is as light and music are 
 
 ^ lu Relics of Shelley, the wonl h-ji-e frore is absolutely certain ; aud he 
 is pure. Mr. Rossetti's emeudation states that Mr. Garuett concurs in it. 
 
30' STUDIES FOE EPIPSYCHIDIOX,, 
 
 'Mid dissonance and gloom — a star 
 
 "Wliich moves not 'mid the moving heavens alone — 
 
 A smile among dark frowns — a gentle tone 75 
 
 Among rude voices, a beloved light, 
 
 A solitude, a refuge, a delight. 
 
 If I had but a friend ! \Vliy, I have three 
 
 Even by my own confession ; there may be 
 
 Some more, for what I know, for 'tis my mind ' so 
 
 To call my friends all who are wise and kind, — 
 
 And these. Heaven knows, at best are very few ; 
 
 But none can ever be more dear than you. 
 
 Why should they be ? ]\Iy mus'e has lost her wings. 
 
 Or like a dying swan who soars and sings, ss 
 
 I should describe you in heroic style, 
 
 But -as it is, are you not void of guile ? 
 
 A lovely soul, formed to be blest and bless : 
 
 A well of sealed and secret happiness ; 
 
 A lute which those whom Love has taught to j)lay 00 
 
 Make music on to cheer the roughest day. 
 
 And enchant sadness till it sleeps ? 
 
 To the oblivion whither I and thou. 
 All loving and all lovely, hasten now 
 With steps, ah, too unequal ! may we meet 
 In one Elysium or one winding sheet ! 
 
 If any shoiild be curious to discover 
 \'\'liether to you I am a friend or lover. 
 Let them read Shakspeare's sonnets, taking thence 
 A whetstone for their dull intelligence 
 That tears and will not cut, or let them guess 
 How Diotima, the wise prophetess. 
 Instructed the instructor, and why he 
 
AND CANCELLED PASSAGES. 31 
 
 Eebuked the infant spirit of melody 
 
 On Agathon's sweet lips, whicli as he spoke 105 
 
 Was as the lovely star when morn has broke 
 
 The roof of darkness, in the golden dawn. 
 
 Half-hidden, and yet beautiful. 
 
 I'll pawn 
 My hopes of Heaven — you know what they are worth — 
 That the presumptuous pedagogues of Earth, 110 
 
 If they could tell the riddle offered here 
 Would scorn to be, or being to appear 
 What now they seem and are — but let them chide, 
 They have few pleasures in the world beside ; 
 Perhaps we should be duU were we not chidden, 115 
 
 Paradise fruits are sweetest when forbidden. 
 Polly can season Wisdom, Hatred Love. 
 
 Farewell, if it can be to say farewell 
 To those who — 
 
 I will not, as most dedicators do, 
 Assure myself and aU the world and you. 
 That you are faultless — would to God they were 
 Who taunt me with your love ! I then should wear 
 These heavy chains of life with a light spirit. 
 And would to God I were, or even as near it 
 As you, dear heart. Alas ! what are we ? Clouds 
 Driven by the wind in warring multitudes, 
 Which rain into the bosom of the earth. 
 And rise again, and in our death and birth. 
 And through our restless life, take as from heaven 
 Hues which are not our own, but wliich are cjiven, 
 
32 STUDIES FOE EPIPSYCHIDION, 
 
 And then withdrawn, and with inconstant glance 
 Flash from the spirit to the countenance. 
 There is a Power, a Love, a Joy, a God 
 Which makes in mortal hearts its brief abode, 
 A Pythian exhalation, which inspires 
 Love, only love — a wind which o'er the wires 
 Of the soul's giant harp- 
 There is a mood which language faints beneath ; 
 You feel it striding, as Almighty Death 
 His bloodless steed. 
 
 And what is that most brief and bright delight 
 Which rushes through the touch and through the sight. 
 And stands before the spirit's inmost throne, 
 A naked Seraph ? None hath ever known. 145 
 
 Its birth is darkness, and its growth desire ; 
 Untameable and fleet and fierce as fire, 
 Not to be touched but to be felt alone. 
 It fills the world with glory — and is gone. 
 
 It floats with rainbow pinions o'er the stream 
 Of life, which flows, like a dream 
 
 Into the light of morning, to the grave 
 As to an ocean. 
 
 Wliat is that joy which serene infancy 
 Perceives not, as the hours content them by,^ 
 Each in a chain of blossoms, yet enjoys 
 
 1 Mr. Garnett sets the word sic them by" to mean "as the hours 
 against this line, as if he regarded it content themselves along," — the curi- 
 with suspicion ; but I do not doubt ous reflective verb content them ht) ba- 
 its being as Shelley meant it. I take ing used as an equivalent for pass hy 
 the expression "as the hours content conteiitedhj. 
 
AND CANCELLED PASSAGES. 33 
 
 The shapes of this new world, in giant toys 
 
 Wrought by the busy ever new ? 
 
 Eemembrance borrows Fancy's glass, to show 
 
 These forms more sincere igo 
 
 Than now they are, than then, perhaps, they were. 
 
 When everything familiar seemed to be 
 
 Wonderful, and the immortality 
 
 Of this great world, which all tilings must inherit, 
 
 Was felt as one with the awakening spirit, los 
 
 Unconscious of itself, and of the strange 
 
 Distinctions which in its proceeding change 
 
 It feels and knows, and mourns as if each were 
 
 A desolation. 
 
 Were it not a sweet refuge, Emily, 
 
 For all those exiles from the dull insane 
 
 Who vex this pleasant world with pride and pain, 
 
 For all that band of sister-spirits known 
 
 To one another by a voiceless tone ? 
 
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