I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet

Hath led me-who knows how!
To thy chamber window, Sweet!

II.

The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream-
And the Champak's odours fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart ;-
As I must on thine,

O! beloved as thou art!

III.

O lift me from the grass!
I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast ;-
Oh! press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last.1

SOPHIA.2

I.

THOU art fair, and few are fairer
Of the Nymphs of earth or ocean;

The following two lines were intended for The Indian Serenade, but were cancelled :—

O pillow cold and wet with tears!

Thou breathest sleep no more !—ED.

2 The lady addressed was Miss Sophia Stacey, a ward of Mr. Parker, Shelley's uncle by marriage. She eventually married Captain J. P. Čatty, R.E. -ED.

They are robes that fit the wearer—

Those soft limbs of thine, whose motion Ever falls and shifts and glances

As the life within them dances.

II.

Thy deep eyes, a double Planet,

Gaze the wisest into madness

With soft clear fire,-the winds that fan it
Are those thoughts of tender gladness
Which, like Zephyrs on the billow,
Make thy gentle soul their pillow.

III.

If whatever face thou paintest

In those eyes grows pale with pleasure, If the fainting soul is faintest

When it hears thy harp's wild measure, Wonder not that when thou speakest Of the weak my heart is weakest.

IV.

As dew beneath the wind of morning,
As the sea which Whirlwinds waken,
As the birds at thunder's warning,
As aught mute yet deeply shaken,
As one who feels an unseen spirit
Is my heart when thine is near it.

FRAGMENT: A SOUL KNOWN.

I AM as a spirit who has dwelt

Within his heart of hearts, and I have felt His feelings, and have thought his thoughts, and known

The inmost converse of his soul, the tone
Unheard but in the silence of his blood,
When all the pulses in their multitude
Image the trembling calm of summer seas.
I have unlocked the golden melodies
Of his deep soul, as with a master-key,
And loosened them and bathed myself therein-
Even as an eagle in a thunder-mist
Clothing his wings with lightning.

FRAGMENT: IS NOT TO-DAY ENOUGH?

Is not to-day enough? Why do I peer
Into the darkness of the day to come?
Is not to-morrow even as yesterday?

And will the day that follows change thy doom?

Few flowers grow upon thy wintry way;

And who waits for thee in that cheerless home Whence thou hast fled, whither thou must return

Charged with the load that makes thee faint and mourn?

FRAGMENT: QUESTIONS.

Is it that in some brighter sphere
We part from friends we meet with here?
Or do we see the Future pass

Over the Present's dusky glass?

Or what is that that makes us seem
To patch up fragments of a dream,
Part of which comes true, and part
Beats and trembles in the heart?

FRAGMENT: TO ITALY.

As the sunrise to the night,

As the north wind to the clouds, As the earthquake's fiery flight, Ruining mountain solitudes, Everlasting Italy,

Be those hopes and fears on thee.

FRAGMENT OF AN INVITATION.

FOLLOW to the deep wood's weeds,
Follow to the wild briar dingle,
Where we seek to intermingle,
And the violet tells her tale
To the odour-scented gale,
For they two have enough to do
Of such work as I and you.

THE BIRTH OF PLEASURE.

AT the creation of the Earth
Pleasure, that divinest birth,
From the soil of Heaven did rise,
Wrapped in sweet wild melodies-
Like an exhalation wreathing
To the sound of air low-breathing
Through Eolian pines, which make
A shade and shelter to the lake
Whence it rises soft and slow;
Her life-breathing [limbs] did flow

In the harmony divine
Of an ever-lengthening line
Which enwrapt her perfect form
With a beauty clear and warm.

FRAGMENT: LOVE THE UNIVERSE.

AND who feels discord now or sorrow ?
Love is the universe to-day-

These are the slaves of dim to-morrow,
Darkening Life's labyrinthine way.

FRAGMENT: WINE OF EGLANTINE.

I AM drunk with the honey wine
Of the moon-unfolded eglantine,
Which fairies catch in hyacinth bowls :—
The bats, the dormice, and the moles
Sleep in the walls or under the sward
Of the desolate Castle-yard;

And when 'tis spilt on the summer earth
Or its fumes arise among the dew,
Their jocund dreams are full of mirth,
They gibber their joy in sleep; for few
Of the fairies bear those bowls so new!

FRAGMENT: CALM THOUGHTS.

YE gentle visitations of calm thoughtMoods like the memories of happier earth,