A brighter Hellas rears its mountains A new Peneus rolls his fountains Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep A loftier Argo cleaves the main, And loves, and weeps, and dies. Oh, write no more the tale of Troy, If earth Death's scroll must be ! Nor mix with Laian rage the joy Which dawns upon the free; Although a subtler Sphinx renew Riddles of death Thebes never knew. Another Athens shall arise, And to remoter time 1071 1080 Bequeath, like sunset to the skies, Saturn and Love their long repose Shall burst, more bright and good Than all who fell, than One who rose, Than many unsubdued; 1090 Not gold, not blood, their altar dowers, Oh, cease! must hate and death return? The world is weary of the past, 1100 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS EARLY POEMS 1813-1815 The Miscellaneous Poems, with some exceptions, were published either by Shelley, in his successive volumes, or by Mrs. Shelley, in Posthumous Poems, 1824, and the two editions of 1839. A few first appeared elsewhere and were included in the collected editions by Mrs. Shelley, and still others have from time to time found their way to the public. The original issue of each poem is here stated in the introductory note, and its history so far as known is given. By far the greater portion of Shelley's shorter poems is personal, and many of them are addressed to his friends and companions or those who made up the domestic circle in his wanderings; even those which are most entirely poems of nature are, with few exceptions, charged with his moods, and governed by passing circumstances; as a whole, therefore, they require, for full understanding, intimacy with the events of his private life, and the reader must be referred to the Life of the poet for such a narrative as could not be condensed intelligibly into brief introductory notes, with respect both to persons and facts. Mrs. Shelley's biographical notes, however, have been largely used to preface the poems of each year because of their extraordinary truth to the feeling and atmosphere of Shelley's Italian life. The few political poems are sufficiently EVENING TO HARRIET Composed at Bracknell, July 31, 1813, for the birthday (August 1) of Harriet, his first wife, on the completion of her eighteenth year. Published by Dowden, Life of Shelley, 1887. explained by reference to current events; in most of these Shelley owes the manner to Coleridge's example. Tradition has established Queen Mab at the head of Shelley's mature work, and in accordance with it all poems earlier than Queen Mab are included under Juvenilia. A more just sense would have given this honor to Alastor, and have relegated the poems of 1815 to the period of immaturity, to which with all the events relating to them they together with Queen Mab belong. It is, however, not deemed wise to attempt to disturb the traditionary arrangement at so late a time. The Early Poems mainly relate to Shelley's domestic history. A few only show his political interest. Mrs. Shelley describes the summer of 1815 as one of rest, but it was exceptional, as these years were the most troubled of his life. Her record begins with 1815. 'He never spent a season more tranquilly than the summer of 1815. He had just recovered from a severe pulmonary attack; the weather was warm and pleasant. He lived near Windsor Forest, and his life was spent under its shades, or on the water; meditating subjects for verse. Hitherto, he had chiefly aimed at extending his political doctrines; and attempted so to do by appeals, in prose essays, to the people, exhorting them to claim their rights; but he had now begun to feel that the time for action was not ripe in England, and that the pen was the only instrument wherewith to prepare the way for better things.' O THOU bright Sun! beneath the dark blue line Of western distance that sublime descendest, And, gleaming lovelier as thy beams decline, Thy million hues to every vapor lend est, And, over cobweb lawn and grove and stream Sheddest the liquid magic of thy light, Till calm Earth, with the parting splendor bright, Shows like the vision of a beauteous dream; What gazer now with astronomic eye Could coldly count the spots within thy sphere ? Such were thy lover, Harriet, could he fly The thoughts of all that makes his passion dear, And, turning senseless from thy warm caress, Pick flaws in our close-woven happiness. TO IANTHE Elizabeth Ianthe, Shelley's first child, was born June, 1813. Published by Dowden, Life of Shelley, 1887. I LOVE thee, Baby! for thine own sweet sake; Those azure eyes, that faintly dimpled cheek, Thy tender frame, so eloquently weak, Love in the sternest heart of hate might wake; But more when o'er thy fitful slumber bending Thy mother folds thee to her wakeful heart, Whilst love and pity, in her glances blending, All that thy passive eyes can feel impart: More, when some feeble lineaments of her, Who bore thy weight beneath her spotless bosom, As with deep love I read thy face, re March 16, 1814: 'I have written nothing but one stanza, which has no meaning, and that I have only written in thought. This is the vision of a delirious and distempered dream, which passes away at the cold clear light of morning. Its surpassing excellence and exquisite perfections have no more reality than the color of an autumnal sunset.' Published by Hogg, Life of Shelley. 1858. THY dewy looks sink in my breast; That was the portion of despair! I could have borne my wayward lot: The chains that bind this ruined soul Had cankered then but crushed it not. ΤΟ ΔΑΚΡΥΣΙ ΔΙΟΙΣΩ ΠΟΤΜΟΝ 'ΑΠΟΤΜΟΝ. Mrs. Shelley states that Coleridge is the person addressed: The poem beginning "Oh, there are spirits in the air" was addressed in idea to Coleridge, whom he never knew; and at whose character he could only guess imperfectly, through his writings and accounts he heard of him from some who knew him well. He regarded his change of opinions as rather an act of will than conviction, and believed that in his inner heart he would be haunted by what Shelley considered the better and holier aspirations of his youth.' Dowden questions 'whether it was not rather addressed in a despondent mood by Shelley to his own spirit.' This suggestion was first advanced by Bertram Dobell, in his reprint of Alastor, and supported by the assent of Rossetti there given; that it is correct is reasonably certain. Published with Alastor, 1816. Oн, there are spirits of the air, And genii of the evening breeze, And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fair As star-beams among twilight trees! Such lovely ministers to meet Oft hast thou turned from men thy lonely feet. With mountain winds, and babbling springs, And moonlight seas, that are the voice Of these inexplicable things, Thou didst hold commune, and rejoice When they did answer thee; but they Cast, like a worthless boon, thy love away. Of aught but thine own features, imaged there; And yet I wear out life in watching thee; A toil so sweet at times, and thou indeed Art kind when I am sick, and pity me. STANZAS. APRIL, 1814 Described by Dowden as a fragment of transmuted biography;' he ascribes Shelley's mood to his bidding farewell to the Boinvilles on his return to his own home. The incident that occasioned the verses has not been recorded. It was composed at Bracknell, and published with Alastor, 1816. AWAY! the moor is dark beneath the moon, Rapid clouds have drunk the last pale beam of even. Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon, And profoundest 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 glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay; Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude. |