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The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Part 147

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[Published by Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition.

See the Editor's prefatory note to the preceding.]

1.

Now the last day of many days, All beautiful and bright as thou, The loveliest and the last, is dead, Rise, Memory, and write its praise!

Up,--to thy wonted work! come, trace _5 The epitaph of glory fled,-- For now the Earth has changed its face, A frown is on the Heaven's brow.



2.

We wandered to the Pine Forest That skirts the Ocean's foam, _10 The lightest wind was in its nest, The tempest in its home.

The whispering waves were half asleep, The clouds were gone to play, And on the bosom of the deep _15 The smile of Heaven lay; It seemed as if the hour were one Sent from beyond the skies, Which scattered from above the sun A light of Paradise. _20

3.

We paused amid the pines that stood The giants of the waste, Tortured by storms to shapes as rude As serpents interlaced; And, soothed by every azure breath, _25 That under Heaven is blown, To harmonies and hues beneath, As tender as its own, Now all the tree-tops lay asleep, Like green waves on the sea, _30 As still as in the silent deep The ocean woods may be.

4.

How calm it was!--the silence there By such a chain was bound That even the busy woodp.e.c.k.e.r _35 Made stiller by her sound The inviolable quietness; The breath of peace we drew With its soft motion made not less The calm that round us grew. _40 There seemed from the remotest seat Of the white mountain waste, To the soft flower beneath our feet, A magic circle traced,-- A spirit interfused around _45 A thrilling, silent life,-- To momentary peace it bound Our mortal nature's strife; And still I felt the centre of The magic circle there _50 Was one fair form that filled with love The lifeless atmosphere.

5.

We paused beside the pools that lie Under the forest bough,-- Each seemed as 'twere a little sky _55 Gulfed in a world below; A firmament of purple light Which in the dark earth lay, More boundless than the depth of night, And purer than the day-- _60 In which the lovely forests grew, As in the upper air, More perfect both in shape and hue Than any spreading there.

There lay the glade and neighbouring lawn, _65 And through the dark green wood The white sun twinkling like the dawn Out of a speckled cloud.

Sweet views which in our world above Can never well be seen, _70 Were imaged by the water's love Of that fair forest green.

And all was interfused beneath With an Elysian glow, An atmosphere without a breath, _75 A softer day below.

Like one beloved the scene had lent To the dark water's breast, Its every leaf and lineament With more than truth expressed; _80 Until an envious wind crept by, Like an unwelcome thought, Which from the mind's too faithful eye Blots one dear image out.

Though thou art ever fair and kind, _85 The forests ever green, Less oft is peace in Sh.e.l.ley's mind, Than calm in waters, seen.

NOTES: _6 fled edition. 1824; dead Trelawny ma.n.u.script, 1839, 2nd edition.

_10 Ocean's]Ocean 1839, 2nd edition.

_24 Interlaced, 1839; interlaced; cj. A.C. Bradley.

_28 own; 1839 own, cj. A.C. Bradley.

_42 white Trelawny ma.n.u.script; wide 1839, 2nd edition _87 Sh.e.l.ley's Trelawny ma.n.u.script; S--'s 1839, 2nd edition.]

THE PINE FOREST OF THE CASCINE NEAR PISA.

[This, the first draft of "To Jane: The Invitation, The Recollection", was published by Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824, and reprinted, "Poetical Works", 1839, 1st edition. See Editor's Prefatory Note to "The Invitation", above.]

Dearest, best and brightest, Come away, To the woods and to the fields!

Dearer than this fairest day Which, like thee to those in sorrow, _5 Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow To the rough Year just awake In its cradle in the brake.

The eldest of the Hours of Spring, Into the Winter wandering, _10 Looks upon the leafless wood, And the banks all bare and rude; Found, it seems, this halcyon Morn In February's bosom born, Bending from Heaven, in azure mirth, _15 Kissed the cold forehead of the Earth, And smiled upon the silent sea, And bade the frozen streams be free; And waked to music all the fountains, And breathed upon the rigid mountains, _20 And made the wintry world appear Like one on whom thou smilest, Dear.

Radiant Sister of the Day, Awake! arise! and come away!

To the wild woods and the plains, _25 To the pools where winter rains Image all the roof of leaves, Where the pine its garland weaves Sapless, gray, and ivy dun Round stems that never kiss the sun-- _30 To the sandhills of the sea, Where the earliest violets be.

Now the last day of many days, All beautiful and bright as thou, The loveliest and the last, is dead, _35 Rise, Memory, and write its praise!

And do thy wonted work and trace The epitaph of glory fled; For now the Earth has changed its face, A frown is on the Heaven's brow. _40

We wandered to the Pine Forest That skirts the Ocean's foam, The lightest wind was in its nest, The tempest in its home.

The whispering waves were half asleep, _45 The clouds were gone to play, And on the woods, and on the deep The smile of Heaven lay.

It seemed as if the day were one Sent from beyond the skies, _50 Which shed to earth above the sun A light of Paradise.

We paused amid the pines that stood, The giants of the waste, Tortured by storms to shapes as rude _55 With stems like serpents interlaced.

How calm it was--the silence there By such a chain was bound, That even the busy woodp.e.c.k.e.r Made stiller by her sound _60

The inviolable quietness; The breath of peace we drew With its soft motion made not less The calm that round us grew.

It seemed that from the remotest seat _65 Of the white mountain's waste To the bright flower beneath our feet, A magic circle traced;--

A spirit interfused around, A thinking, silent life; _70 To momentary peace it bound Our mortal nature's strife;--

And still, it seemed, the centre of The magic circle there, Was one whose being filled with love _75 The breathless atmosphere.

Were not the crocuses that grew Under that ilex-tree As beautiful in scent and hue As ever fed the bee? _80

We stood beneath the pools that lie Under the forest bough, And each seemed like a sky Gulfed in a world below;

A purple firmament of light _85 Which in the dark earth lay, More boundless than the depth of night, And clearer than the day--

In which the ma.s.sy forests grew As in the upper air, _90 More perfect both in shape and hue Than any waving there.

Like one beloved the scene had lent To the dark water's breast Its every leaf and lineament _95 With that clear truth expressed;

There lay far glades and neighbouring lawn, And through the dark green crowd The white sun twinkling like the dawn Under a speckled cloud. _100

Sweet views, which in our world above Can never well be seen, Were imaged by the water's love Of that fair forest green.

And all was interfused beneath _105 With an Elysian air, An atmosphere without a breath, A silence sleeping there.

Until a wandering wind crept by, Like an unwelcome thought, _110 Which from my mind's too faithful eye Blots thy bright image out.

For thou art good and dear and kind, The forest ever green, But less of peace in S--'s mind, Than calm in waters, seen. _116.

WITH A GUITAR, TO JANE.

[Published by Medwin, "The Athenaeum", October 20, 1832; "Frazer's Magazine", January 1833. There is a copy amongst the Trelawny ma.n.u.scripts.]

Ariel to Miranda:--Take This slave of Music, for the sake Of him who is the slave of thee, And teach it all the harmony In which thou canst, and only thou, _5 Make the delighted spirit glow, Till joy denies itself again, And, too intense, is turned to pain; For by permission and command Of thine own Prince Ferdinand, _10 Poor Ariel sends this silent token Of more than ever can be spoken; Your guardian spirit, Ariel, who, From life to life, must still pursue Your happiness;--for thus alone _15 Can Ariel ever find his own.

From Prospero's enchanted cell, As the mighty verses tell, To the throne of Naples, he Lit you o'er the trackless sea, _20 Flitting on, your prow before, Like a living meteor.

When you die, the silent Moon, In her interlunar swoon, Is not sadder in her cell Than deserted Ariel.

When you live again on earth, Like an unseen star of birth, Ariel guides you o'er the sea Of life from your nativity. _30 Many changes have been run Since Ferdinand and you begun Your course of love, and Ariel still Has tracked your steps, and served your will; Now, in humbler, happier lot, _35 This is all remembered not; And now, alas! the poor sprite is Imprisoned, for some fault of his, In a body like a grave;-- From you he only dares to crave, _40 For his service and his sorrow, A smile today, a song tomorrow.

The artist who this idol wrought, To echo all harmonious thought, Felled a tree, while on the steep _45 The woods were in their winter sleep, Rocked in that repose divine On the wind-swept Apennine; And dreaming, some of Autumn past, And some of Spring approaching fast, _50 And some of April buds and showers, And some of songs in July bowers, And all of love; and so this tree,-- O that such our death may be!-- Died in sleep, and felt no pain, _55 To live in happier form again: From which, beneath Heaven's fairest star, The artist wrought this loved Guitar, And taught it justly to reply, To all who question skilfully, _60 In language gentle as thine own; Whispering in enamoured tone Sweet oracles of woods and dells, And summer winds in sylvan cells; For it had learned all harmonies _65 Of the plains and of the skies, Of the forests and the mountains, And the many-voiced fountains; The clearest echoes of the hills, The softest notes of falling rills, _70 The melodies of birds and bees, The murmuring of summer seas, And pattering rain, and breathing dew, And airs of evening; and it knew That seldom-heard mysterious sound, _75 Which, driven on its diurnal round, As it floats through boundless day, Our world enkindles on its way.-- All this it knows, but will not tell To those who cannot question well _80 The Spirit that inhabits it; It talks according to the wit Of its companions; and no more Is heard than has been felt before, By those who tempt it to betray _85 These secrets of an elder day: But, sweetly as its answers will Flatter hands of perfect skill, It keeps its highest, holiest tone For our beloved Jane alone. _90

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