The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Part 97

'When the sun lingered o'er his ocean floor _325 To gild his rival's new prosperity.

'Thou wouldst forget thus vainly to deplore

'Ills, which if ills can find no cure from thee, The thought of which no other sleep will quell, Nor other music blot from memory, _330

'So sweet and deep is the oblivious spell; And whether life had been before that sleep The Heaven which I imagine, or a h.e.l.l

'Like this harsh world in which I woke to weep, I know not. I arose, and for a s.p.a.ce _335 The scene of woods and waters seemed to keep,

Though it was now broad day, a gentle trace Of light diviner than the common sun Sheds on the common earth, and all the place

'Was filled with magic sounds woven into one _340 Oblivious melody, confusing sense Amid the gliding waves and shadows dun;

'And, as I looked, the bright omnipresence Of morning through the orient cavern flowed, And the sun's image radiantly intense _345

'Burned on the waters of the well that glowed Like gold, and threaded all the forest's maze With winding paths of emerald fire; there stood

'Amid the sun, as he amid the blaze _350 Of his own glory, on the vibrating Floor of the fountain, paved with flashing rays,

'A Shape all light, which with one hand did fling Dew on the earth, as if she were the dawn, And the invisible rain did ever sing

'A silver music on the mossy lawn; _355 And still before me on the dusky gra.s.s, Iris her many-coloured scarf had drawn:

'In her right hand she bore a crystal gla.s.s, Mantling with bright Nepenthe; the fierce splendour Fell from her as she moved under the ma.s.s _360

'Of the deep cavern, and with palms so tender, Their tread broke not the mirror of its billow, Glided along the river, and did bend her

'Head under the dark boughs, till like a willow Her fair hair swept the bosom of the stream _365 That whispered with delight to be its pillow.

'As one enamoured is upborne in dream O'er lily-paven lakes, mid silver mist To wondrous music, so this shape might seem

'Partly to tread the waves with feet which kissed _370 The dancing foam; partly to glide along The air which roughened the moist amethyst,

'Or the faint morning beams that fell among The trees, or the soft shadows of the trees; And her feet, ever to the ceaseless song _375

'Of leaves, and winds, and waves, and birds, and bees, And falling drops, moved in a measure new Yet sweet, as on the summer evening breeze,

'Up from the lake a shape of golden dew Between two rocks, athwart the rising moon, _380 Dances i' the wind, where never eagle flew;

'And still her feet, no less than the sweet tune To which they moved, seemed as they moved to blot The thoughts of him who gazed on them; and soon

'All that was, seemed as if it had been not; _385 And all the gazer's mind was strewn beneath Her feet like embers; and she, thought by thought,

'Trampled its sparks into the dust of death As day upon the threshold of the east Treads out the lamps of night, until the breath _390

'Of darkness re-illumine even the least Of heaven's living eyes--like day she came, Making the night a dream; and ere she ceased

'To move, as one between desire and shame Suspended, I said--If, as it doth seem, _395 Thou comest from the realm without a name

'Into this valley of perpetual dream, Show whence I came, and where I am, and why-- Pa.s.s not away upon the pa.s.sing stream.

'Arise and quench thy thirst, was her reply. _400 And as a shut lily stricken by the wand Of dewy morning's vital alchemy,

'I rose; and, bending at her sweet command, Touched with faint lips the cup she raised, And suddenly my brain became as sand _405

'Where the first wave had more than half erased The track of deer on desert Labrador; Whilst the wolf, from which they fled amazed,

'Leaves his stamp visibly upon the sh.o.r.e, Until the second bursts;--so on my sight _410 Burst a new vision, never seen before,

'And the fair shape waned in the coming light, As veil by veil the silent splendour drops From Lucifer, amid the chrysolite

'Of sunrise, ere it tinge the mountain-tops; _415 And as the presence of that fairest planet, Although unseen, is felt by one who hopes

'That his day's path may end as he began it, In that star's smile, whose light is like the scent Of a jonquil when evening breezes fan it, _420

'Or the soft note in which his dear lament The Brescian shepherd breathes, or the caress That turned his weary slumber to content;

'So knew I in that light's severe excess The presence of that Shape which on the stream _425 Moved, as I moved along the wilderness,

'More dimly than a day-appearing dream, The host of a forgotten form of sleep; A light of heaven, whose half-extinguished beam

'Through the sick day in which we wake to weep _430 Glimmers, for ever sought, for ever lost; So did that shape its obscure tenour keep

'Beside my path, as silent as a ghost; But the new Vision, and the cold bright car, With solemn speed and stunning music, crossed _435

'The forest, and as if from some dread war Triumphantly returning, the loud million Fiercely extolled the fortune of her star.

'A moving arch of victory, the vermilion And green and azure plumes of Iris had _440 Built high over her wind-winged pavilion,

'And underneath aethereal glory clad The wilderness, and far before her flew The tempest of the splendour, which forbade

'Shadow to fall from leaf and stone; the crew _445 Seemed in that light, like atomies to dance Within a sunbeam;--some upon the new

'Embroidery of flowers, that did enhance The gra.s.sy vesture of the desert, played, Forgetful of the chariot's swift advance; _450

'Others stood gazing, till within the shade Of the great mountain its light left them dim; Others outspeeded it; and others made

'Circles around it, like the clouds that swim Round the high moon in a bright sea of air; _455 And more did follow, with exulting hymn,

'The chariot and the captives fettered there:-- But all like bubbles on an eddying flood Fell into the same track at last, and were

'Borne onward.--I among the mult.i.tude _460 Was swept--me, sweetest flowers delayed not long; Me, not the shadow nor the solitude;

'Me, not that falling stream's Lethean song; Me, not the phantom of that early Form Which moved upon its motion--but among _465

'The thickest billows of that living storm I plunged, and bared my bosom to the clime Of that cold light, whose airs too soon deform.

'Before the chariot had begun to climb The opposing steep of that mysterious dell, _470 Behold a wonder worthy of the rhyme