ARETHUSA ARETHUSA arose From her couch of snows Which slopes to the western gleams: In murmurs as soft as sleep; The Earth seemed to love her, And Heaven smiled above her, As she lingered towards the deep. Then Alpheus bold, On his glacier cold, With his trident the mountains strook And opened a chasm In the rocks-with the spasm All Erymanthus shook. And the black south wind It concealed behind The urns of the silent snow, And earthquake and thunder The bars of the springs below. Seen through the torrent's sweep, "Ob, save me! Oh, guide me! For he grasps me now by the hair!" And under the water The Earth's white daughter Behind her descended With the brackish Dorian stream:- As an eagle pursuing Down the streams of the cloudy wind. FROM the forests and highlands From the river-girt islands, Where loud waves are dumb Listening to my sweet pipings. The wind in the reeds and the rushes, The bees on the bells of thyme, The birds on the myrtle bushes, The cicale above in the lime, Liquid Peneus was flowing, The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns, And the Nymphs of the woods and waves, To the edge of the moist river-lawns, With envy of my sweet pipings. I sang of the dancing stars, I sang of the dædal Earth, And of Heaven-and the giant wars, And Love, and Death, and Birth,And then I changed my pipings, Singing how down the vale of Menalus I pursued a maiden and clasp'd a reed : Gods and men, we are all deluded thus! It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed : All wept, as I think both ye now would, If envy or age had not frozen your blood, At the sorrow of my sweet pipings. 1820. 1824. Green cowbind and the moonlight colored May, And cherry-blossoms, and white cups, whose wine Was the bright dew, yet drained not by the day; And wild roses, and ivy serpentine, With its dark buds and leaves, wandering astray; And flowers azure, black, and streaked with gold, Fairer than any wakened eyes behold. And nearer to the river's trembling edge, There grew broad flag-flowers, purple prankt with white, And starry river buds among the sedge, And floating water-lilies, broad and bright, Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge With moonlight beams of their own watery light; And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep green As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen. Methought that of these visionary flowers I made a nosegay, bound in such a way That the same hues, which in their natural bowers Were mingled or opposed, the like array Kept these imprisoned children of the Hours Within my hand,-and then, elate and gay, I hastened to the spot whence I had come, That I might there present it!--oh! to whom? 1820. 1822. SONG RARELY, rarely, comest thou, Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day 'Tis since thou art fled away. How shall ever one like me Win thee back again? With the joyous and the free Thou wilt scoff at pain. Spirit false thou hast forgot All but those who need thee not. As a lizard with the shade Of a trembling leaf, Thou with sorrow art dismayed; Even the sighs of grief Reproach thee, that thou art not near, And reproach thou wilt not hear. Let me set my mournful ditty To a merry measure, Thou wilt never come for pity, Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay. I love all that thou lovest, The fresh Earth in new leaves drest, I love snow, and all the forms I love waves, and winds, and storms, Which is Nature's, and may be I love tranquil solitude, And such society As is quiet, wise, and good; What difference? but thou dost possess I love Love-though he has wings, Thou art love and life! Oh come, 1820.1 1824. TO THE MOON ART thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth, And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy? 1820. 1824. 1 Though included by Mrs. Shelley, and by later editors, among the poems of 1821, there is a copy of this poem in the Harvard College Manuscripts, dated in Shelley's handwriting," Pisa, May, 1820." See note in Edward Dowden's Edition of Shelley. Seraph of Heaven! too gentle to be human, Veiling beneath that radiant form of Woman All that is insupportable in thee Of light, and love, and immortality! Sweet Benediction in the eternal Čurse! Veiled Glory of this lampless Universe! Thou Moon beyond the clouds! Thou living Form Among the Dead! Thou Star above the Storm! Thou Wonder, and thou Beauty, and thou Terror! Thou Harmony of Nature's art! Thou Mirror In whom, as in the splendor of the Sun, All shapes look glorious which thou gazest on! Ay, even the dim words which obscure thee now not in the moving Heavens, alone? A smile amid dark frowns? a gentle tone Amid rude voices? a beloved light? A Lute which those whom Love has taught to play Make music on, to soothe the roughest day And lull fond grief asleep? a buried treasure? A cradle of young thoughts of wingless pleasure; A violet-shrouded grave of Woe?-I measure Scarce visible from extreme loveliness. Warm fragrance seems to fall from her light dress And her loose hair; and where some heavy tress The air of her own speed has disentwined, The sweetness seems to satiate the faint wind; And in the soul a wild odor is felt, Beyond the sense, like fiery dews that melt Into the bosom of a frozen bud.— See where she stands! a mortal shape indued With love and life and light and deity, And motion which may change but cannot die; An image of some bright Eternity; Leaving the third sphere pilotless; a tender Reflection of the eternal Moon of Love Under whose motions life's dull billows move; A Metaphor of Spring and Youth and Morning; A Vision like incarnate April, warning, With smiles and tears, Frost the Anatomy Into his summer grave. Ah, woe is me! What have I dared? where am I lifted ? how Shall I descend, and perish not? I know That Love makes all things equal: I have heard By mine own heart this joyous truth averred: The spirit of the worm beneath the sod In love and worship, blends itself with God. Spouse! Sister! Angel! Pilot of the Fate Whose course has been so starless! Oh, too late Beloved! Oh, too soon adored, by me! For in the fields of immortality My spirit should at first have worshipped thine, A divine presence in a place divine; Or should have moved beside it on this earth, A shadow of that substance, from its birth; But not as now :-I love thee; yes, I feel That on the fountain of my heart a seal |