The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Part 195

Since withering pain no power possessed, _5 Nor age, to blanch thy vermeil hue, Nor time's dread victor, death, confessed, Though bathed with his poison dew, Still thou retain'st unchanging bloom, Fixed tranquil, even in the tomb. _10 And oh! when on the blest, reviving, The day-star dawns of love, Each energy of soul surviving More vivid, soars above, Hast thou ne'er felt a rapturous thrill, _15 Like June's warm breath, athwart thee fly, O'er each idea then to steal, When other pa.s.sions die?

Felt it in some wild noonday dream, When sitting by the lonely stream, _20 Where Silence says, 'Mine is the dell'; And not a murmur from the plain, And not an echo from the fell, Disputes her silent reign.

ON A FETE AT CARLTON HOUSE: FRAGMENT.

[Published by Rossetti, "Complete Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1870; dated 1811.]

By the mossy brink, With me the Prince shall sit and think; Shall muse in visioned Regency, Rapt in bright dreams of dawning Royalty.

TO A STAR.

[Published (without t.i.tle) by Hogg, "Life of Sh.e.l.ley", 1858; dated 1811.

The t.i.tle is Rossetti's (1870).]

Sweet star, which gleaming o'er the darksome scene Through fleecy clouds of silvery radiance fliest, Spanglet of light on evening's shadowy veil, Which shrouds the day-beam from the waveless lake, Lighting the hour of sacred love; more sweet _5 Than the expiring morn-star's paly fires:-- Sweet star! When wearied Nature sinks to sleep, And all is hushed,--all, save the voice of Love, Whose broken murmurings swell the balmy blast Of soft Favonius, which at intervals _10 Sighs in the ear of stillness, art thou aught but Lulling the slaves of interest to repose With that mild, pitying gaze? Oh, I would look In thy dear beam till every bond of sense Became enamoured-- _15

TO MARY WHO DIED IN THIS OPINION.

[Published by Rossetti, "Complete Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1870; dated 1810-11.]

1.

Maiden, quench the glare of sorrow Struggling in thine haggard eye: Firmness dare to borrow From the wreck of destiny; For the ray morn's bloom revealing _5 Can never boast so bright an hue As that which mocks concealing, And sheds its loveliest light on you.

2.

Yet is the tie departed Which bound thy lovely soul to bliss? _10 Has it left thee broken-hearted In a world so cold as this?

Yet, though, fainting fair one, Sorrow's self thy cup has given, Dream thou'lt meet thy dear one, Never more to part, in Heaven. _15

3.

Existence would I barter For a dream so dear as thine, And smile to die a martyr On affection's bloodless shrine. _20 Nor would I change for pleasure That withered hand and ashy cheek, If my heart enshrined a treasure Such as forces thine to break.

A TALE OF SOCIETY AS IT IS: FROM FACTS, 1811.

[Published (from Esdaile ma.n.u.script with t.i.tle as above) by Rossetti, "Complete Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1870. Rossetti's t.i.tle is "Mother and Son".]

1.

She was an aged woman; and the years Which she had numbered on her toilsome way Had bowed her natural powers to decay.

She was an aged woman; yet the ray Which faintly glimmered through her starting tears, _5 Pressed into light by silent misery, Hath soul's imperishable energy.

She was a cripple, and incapable To add one mite to gold-fed luxury: And therefore did her spirit dimly feel _10 That poverty, the crime of tainting stain, Would merge her in its depths, never to rise again.

2.

One only son's love had supported her.

She long had struggled with infirmity, Lingering to human life-scenes; for to die, _15 When fate has spared to rend some mental tie, Would many wish, and surely fewer dare.

But, when the tyrant's bloodhounds forced the child For his cursed power unhallowed arms to wield-- Bend to another's will--become a thing _20 More senseless than the sword of battlefield-- Then did she feel keen sorrow's keenest sting; And many years had pa.s.sed ere comfort they would bring.

3.

For seven years did this poor woman live In unpartic.i.p.ated solitude. _25 Thou mightst have seen her in the forest rude Picking the scattered remnants of its wood.

If human, thou mightst then have learned to grieve.

The gleanings of precarious charity Her scantiness of food did scarce supply. _30 The proofs of an unspeaking sorrow dwelt Within her ghastly hollowness of eye: Each arrow of the season's change she felt.

Yet still she groans, ere yet her race were run, One only hope: it was--once more to see her son. _35

4.

It was an eve of June, when every star Spoke peace from Heaven to those on earth that live.

She rested on the moor. 'Twas such an eve When first her soul began indeed to grieve: Then he was here; now he is very far. _40 The sweetness of the balmy evening A sorrow o'er her aged soul did fling, Yet not devoid of rapture's mingled tear: A balm was in the poison of the sting.

This aged sufferer for many a year _45 Had never felt such comfort. She suppressed A sigh--and turning round, clasped William to her breast!

5.

And, though his form was wasted by the woe Which tyrants on their victims love to wreak, Though his sunk eyeb.a.l.l.s and his faded cheek _50 Of slavery's violence and scorn did speak, Yet did the aged woman's bosom glow.

The vital fire seemed re-illumed within By this sweet unexpected welcoming.

Oh, consummation of the fondest hope _55 That ever soared on Fancy's wildest wing!

Oh, tenderness that foundst so sweet a scope!

Prince who dost pride thee on thy mighty sway, When THOU canst feel such love, thou shalt be great as they!

6.

Her son, compelled, the country's foes had fought, _60 Had bled in battle; and the stern control Which ruled his sinews and coerced his soul Utterly poisoned life's unmingled bowl, And unsubduable evils on him brought.

He was the shadow of the l.u.s.ty child _65 Who, when the time of summer season smiled, Did earn for her a meal of honesty, And with affectionate discourse beguiled The keen attacks of pain and poverty; Till Power, as envying her this only joy, _70 From her maternal bosom tore the unhappy boy.

7.

And now cold charity's unwelcome dole Was insufficient to support the pair; And they would perish rather than would bear The law's stern slavery, and the insolent stare _75 With which law loves to rend the poor man's soul-- The bitter scorn, the spirit-sinking noise Of heartless mirth which women, men, and boys Wake in this scene of legal misery.

NOTES: _28 grieve Esdaile ma.n.u.script; feel, 1870.

_37 to those on earth that live Esdaile ma.n.u.scripts; omitted, 1870.

TO THE REPUBLICANS OF NORTH AMERICA.

[Published (from the Esdaile ma.n.u.script with t.i.tle as above) by Rossetti, "Complete Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1870; dated 1812.

Rossetti's t.i.tle is "The Mexican Revolution".]

1.

Brothers! between you and me Whirlwinds sweep and billows roar: Yet in spirit oft I see On thy wild and winding sh.o.r.e Freedom's bloodless banners wave,-- _5 Feel the pulses of the brave Unextinguished in the grave,-- See them drenched in sacred gore,-- Catch the warrior's gasping breath Murmuring 'Liberty or death!' _10

2.

Shout aloud! Let every slave, Crouching at Corruption's throne, Start into a man, and brave Racks and chains without a groan: And the castle's heartless glow, _15 And the hovel's vice and woe, Fade like gaudy flowers that blow-- Weeds that peep, and then are gone Whilst, from misery's ashes risen, Love shall burst the captive's prison. _20