And on my shoulders wings are woven, Beyond the mighty moons that wane Upon the verge of nature's utmost sphere, Till the world's shadowy walls are past 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. I have no life, Constantia, now, but thee, Whilst, like the world-surrounding air, thy song Secure o'er rocks and waves I sweep, Now 'tis the breath of summer night, Which when the starry waters sleep, 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- For the planet of frost, so cold and bright, VOL. II. L II. Such is my heart-roses are fair, And that at best a withered blossom; Its withered leaves in a faithless bosom ; FRAGMENT: TO ONE SINGING. My spirit like a charmèd bark doth swim 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 TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR. 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. III. And, whilst that sure slow Angel which aye stands Watching the beck of Mutability Delays to execute her high commands, And, though a nation weeps, spares thine and thee, IV. O let a father's curse be on thy soul, And let a daughter's hope be on thy tomb; Be both, on thy grey head, a leaden cowl To weigh thee down to thine approaching doom! V. I curse thee by a parent's outraged love, By hopes long cherished and too lately lost, VI. By those infantine smiles of happy light, Which were a fire within a stranger's hearth, Quenched even when kindled, in untimely night, Hiding the promise of a lovely birth; VII. By those unpractised accents of young speech, Thou strike the lyre of mind! O grief and shame! VIII. By all the happy see in children's growth That undeveloped flower of budding years Sweetness and sadness interwoven both, Source of the sweetest hopes and saddest fears IX. By all the days under an hireling's care, Of dull constraint and bitter heaviness, O wretched ye if ever any were, Sadder than orphans, yet not fatherless! X. By the false cant which on their innocent lips XI. By thy most impious Hell, and all its terror; XII. By thy complicity with lust and hate Thy thirst for tears-thy hunger after gold- XIII. By thy most killing sneer, and by thy smile- By thy false tears-those millstones braining men XIV. By all the hate which checks a father's love- XV. Yes, the despair which bids a father groan, And cry-my children are no longer mineThe blood within those veins may be mine own, But-Tyrant-their polluted souls are thine ; XVI. I curse thee-though I hate thee not-O slave! This curse should be a blessing. Fare thee well! TO WILLIAM SHELLEY. I. THE billows on the beach are leaping around it, The sea looks black, and the clouds that bound it Come with me, thou delightful child, Come with me, though the wave is wild, And the winds are loose, we must not, stay, II. They have taken thy brother and sister dear, III. Come thou, beloved as thou art; Near thy sweet mother's anxious heart, With fairest siniles of wonder thrown IV. Fear not the tyrants will rule for ever, V. Rest, rest, and shriek not, thou gentle child! Me and thy mother-well we know Who hunt us o'er these sheltering waves. |