XVII. At last her plank an eddy crossed, To hear the fire roar and hiss Through the domes of those mighty palaces. XVIII. The eddy whirled her round and round XIX. For it was filled with sculptures rarest, Of winged shapes, whose legions range XX. And, as she looked, still lovelier grew Of his own mind did there endure After the touch, whose power had braided XXI. She looked, the flames were dim, the flood Winding through hills in solitude; Those marble shapes then seemed to quiver, And their fair limbs to float in motion, XXII. And their lips moved; one seemed to speak, XXIII. The dizzy flight of that phantom pale Of her dark eyes the dream did creep, TO CONSTANTIA, SINGING.1 I. THUS to be lost and thus to sink and die Perchance were death indeed!-Constantia, turn! In thy dark eyes a power like light doth lie, Even though the sounds which were thy voice, which burn Between thy lips, are laid to sleep; Within thy breath, and on thy hair, like odour it is yet, 1 Claire Clairmont claimed to be the Constantia of this and the next poem; and Constantia was among the many names she bore from time to time.-ED. 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 forget! II. A breathless awe, like the swift change The cope of heaven seems rent and cloven Beyond the mighty moons that wane Upon the verge of nature's utmost sphere, Till the world's shadowy walls are passed and disappear. III. Her voice is hovering o'er my soul-it lingers My heart is quivering like a flame; As morning dew, that in the sunbeam dies, IV. but thee, I have no life, Constantia, now, Whilst, like the world-surrounding air, thy song Flows on, and fills all things with melody.- Now 'tis the breath of summer night, Round western isles, with incense-blossoms bright, Lingering, suspends my soul in its voluptuous flight. TO CONSTANTIA. I. THE rose that drinks the fountain dew Grows pale and blue with altered hue- II. Such is my heart-roses are fair, And that at best a withered blossom; But thy false care did idly wear Its withered leaves in a faithless bosom ; FRAGMENT: TO ONE SINGING.1 My spirit like a charmèd bark doth swim Upon the liquid waves of thy sweet singing, 1 If these lines also allude to the singing of Claire, which is known to have delighted Shelley, she has Far away into the regions dim Of rapture as a boat, with swift sails winging Its way adown some many-winding river. LINES TO WILLIAM GODWIN. MIGHTY eagle! thou that soarest The embattled tempests' warning! TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.1 I. THY Country's curse is on thee, darkest crest II. Thy country's curse is on thee! Justice sold, Truth trampled, Nature's landmarks overthrown, And heaps of fraud-accumulated gold, Plead, loud as thunder, at Destruction's throne. the honour of a very august connexion, namely with Asia in Prometheus Unbound. Compare the fragment with the song at the end of Act ii.-ED. 1 On his depriving Shelley of the custody of his children. See vol. i, page xl.—ED. The star-chamber, Mrs. Shelley says.-ED, |