The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Part 142

THE DIRGE.

Old winter was gone In his weakness back to the mountains h.o.a.r, And the spring came down From the planet that hovers upon the sh.o.r.e

Where the sea of sunlight encroaches _200 On the limits of wintry night;-- If the land, and the air, and the sea, Rejoice not when spring approaches, We did not rejoice in thee, Ginevra! _205

She is still, she is cold On the bridal couch, One step to the white deathbed, And one to the bier, And one to the charnel--and one, oh where? _210 The dark arrow fled In the noon.

Ere the sun through heaven once more has rolled, The rats in her heart Will have made their nest, _215 And the worms be alive in her golden hair, While the Spirit that guides the sun, Sits throned in his flaming chair, She shall sleep.

NOTES: 22 Was]Were cj. Rossetti.old 26 ever 1824; even editions 1839.

_37 Bitter editions 1839; Better 1824.

_63 wanting in 1824.

_103 quiet rest cj. A.C. Bradley; quiet and rest 1824.

_129 winds]lands cj. Forman; waves, sands or strands cj. Rossetti.

_167 On]In cj. Rossetti.

EVENING: PONTE AL MARE, PISA

[Published by Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824.

There is a draft amongst the Bos...o...b.. ma.n.u.scripts.]

1.

The sun is set; the swallows are asleep; The bats are flitting fast in the gray air; The slow soft toads out of damp corners creep, And evening's breath, wandering here and there Over the quivering surface of the stream, _5 Wakes not one ripple from its summer dream.

2.

There is no dew on the dry gra.s.s to-night, Nor damp within the shadow of the trees; The wind is intermitting, dry, and light; And in the inconstant motion of the breeze _10 The dust and straws are driven up and down, And whirled about the pavement of the town.

3.

Within the surface of the fleeting river The wrinkled image of the city lay, Immovably unquiet, and forever _15 It trembles, but it never fades away; Go to the...

You, being changed, will find it then as now.

4.

The chasm in which the sun has sunk is shut By darkest barriers of cinereous cloud, _20 Like mountain over mountain huddled--but Growing and moving upwards in a crowd, And over it a s.p.a.ce of watery blue, Which the keen evening star is shining through..

NOTES: _6 summer 1839, 2nd edition; silent 1824, 1839, 1st edition.

_20 cinereous Bos...o...b.. ma.n.u.script; enormous editions 1824, 1839.

THE BOAT ON THE SERCHIO.

[Published in part (lines 1-61, 88-118) by Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824; revised and enlarged by Rossetti, "Complete Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1870.]

Our boat is asleep on Serchio's stream, Its sails are folded like thoughts in a dream, The helm sways idly, hither and thither; Dominic, the boatman, has brought the mast, And the oars, and the sails; but 'tis sleeping fast, _5 Like a beast, unconscious of its tether.

The stars burnt out in the pale blue air, And the thin white moon lay withering there; To tower, and cavern, and rift, and tree, The owl and the bat fled drowsily. _10 Day had kindled the dewy woods, And the rocks above and the stream below, And the vapours in their mult.i.tudes, And the Apennine's shroud of summer snow, And clothed with light of aery gold _15 The mists in their eastern caves uprolled.

Day had awakened all things that be, The lark and the thrush and the swallow free, And the milkmaid's song and the mower's scythe And the matin-bell and the mountain bee: _20 Fireflies were quenched on the dewy corn, Glow-worms went out on the river's brim, Like lamps which a student forgets to trim: The beetle forgot to wind his horn, The crickets were still in the meadow and hill: _25 Like a flock of rooks at a farmer's gun Night's dreams and terrors, every one, Fled from the brains which are their prey From the lamp's death to the morning ray.

All rose to do the task He set to each, _30 Who shaped us to His ends and not our own; The million rose to learn, and one to teach What none yet ever knew or can be known.

And many rose Whose woe was such that fear became desire;-- _35 Melchior and Lionel were not among those; They from the throng of men had stepped aside, And made their home under the green hill-side.

It was that hill, whose intervening brow Screens Lucca from the Pisan's envious eye, _40 Which the circ.u.mfluous plain waving below, Like a wide lake of green fertility, With streams and fields and marshes bare, Divides from the far Apennines--which lie Islanded in the immeasurable air. _45

'What think you, as she lies in her green cove, Our little sleeping boat is dreaming of?'

'If morning dreams are true, why I should guess That she was dreaming of our idleness, And of the miles of watery way _50 We should have led her by this time of day.'-

'Never mind,' said Lionel, 'Give care to the winds, they can bear it well About yon poplar-tops; and see The white clouds are driving merrily, _55 And the stars we miss this morn will light More willingly our return to-night.-- How it whistles, Dominic's long black hair!

List, my dear fellow; the breeze blows fair: Hear how it sings into the air--' _60

--'Of us and of our lazy motions,'

Impatiently said Melchior, 'If I can guess a boat's emotions; And how we ought, two hours before, To have been the devil knows where.' _65 And then, in such transalpine Tuscan As would have killed a Della-Cruscan,

So, Lionel according to his art Weaving his idle words, Melchior said: 'She dreams that we are not yet out of bed; _70 We'll put a soul into her, and a heart Which like a dove chased by a dove shall beat.'

'Ay, heave the ballast overboard, And stow the eatables in the aft locker.'

'Would not this keg be best a little lowered?' _75 'No, now all's right.' 'Those bottles of warm tea-- (Give me some straw)--must be stowed tenderly; Such as we used, in summer after six, To cram in greatcoat pockets, and to mix Hard eggs and radishes and rolls at Eton, _80 And, couched on stolen hay in those green harbours Farmers called gaps, and we schoolboys called arbours, Would feast till eight.'

With a bottle in one hand, As if his very soul were at a stand _85 Lionel stood--when Melchior brought him steady:-- 'Sit at the helm--fasten this sheet--all ready!'

The chain is loosed, the sails are spread, The living breath is fresh behind, As with dews and sunrise fed, _90 Comes the laughing morning wind;-- The sails are full, the boat makes head Against the Serchio's torrent fierce, Then flags with intermitting course, And hangs upon the wave, and stems _95 The tempest of the...

Which fervid from its mountain source Shallow, smooth and strong doth come,-- Swift as fire, tempestuously It sweeps into the affrighted sea; _100 In morning's smile its eddies coil, Its billows sparkle, toss and boil, Torturing all its quiet light Into columns fierce and bright.

The Serchio, twisting forth _105 Between the marble barriers which it clove At Ripafratta, leads through the dread chasm The wave that died the death which lovers love, Living in what it sought; as if this spasm Had not yet pa.s.sed, the toppling mountains cling, _110 But the clear stream in full enthusiasm Pours itself on the plain, then wandering Down one clear path of effluence crystalline Sends its superfluous waves, that they may fling At Arno's feet tribute of corn and wine; Then, through the pestilential deserts wild Of tangled marsh and woods of stunted pine, It rushes to the Ocean.

NOTES: _58-_61 List, my dear fellow, the breeze blows fair; How it scatters Dominic's long black hair!

Singing of us, and our lazy motions, If I can guess a boat's emotions.'--editions 1824, 1839.

_61-_67 Rossetti places these lines conjecturally between lines 51 and 52.

_61-_65 'are evidently an alternative version of 48-51' (A.C. Bradley).

_95, _96 and stems The tempest of the wanting in editions 1824, 1839.

_112 then Bos...o...b.. ma.n.u.script; until editions 1824, 1839 _114 superfluous Bos...o...b.. ma.n.u.script; clear editions 1824, 1839.

_117 pine Bos...o...b.. ma.n.u.script; fir editions 1824, 1839.

MUSIC.