passed away, no sign remained of where it had been-who but will regard as a prophecy the last stanza of the Adonais? The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven, Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given; The massy earth and spherèd skies are riven ! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.' PUTNEY, May 1, 1839. 1 Captain Roberts watched the vessel saved. The observation made as to the with his glass from the top of the light-spot where the boat disappeared caused it house of Leghorn, on its homeward track. to be found, through the exertions of They were off Via Reggio, at some distance Trelawny for that effect. It had gone from shore, when a storm was driven over down in ten fathom water; it had not the sea. It enveloped them and several capsized, and, except such things as had larger vessels in darkness. When the floated from her, everything was found on cloud passed onwards, Roberts looked a-board exactly as it had been placed when gain, and saw every other vessel sailing on the ocean except their little schooner, which had vanished. From that time he could scarcely doubt the fatal truth; yet we fancied that they might have been driven towards Elba or Corsica, and so be they sailed. The boat itself was uninjured. Roberts possessed himself of her, and decked her; but she proved not seaworthy, and her shattered planks now lie rotting on the shore of one of the Ionian islands, on which she was wrecked. TRANSLATIONS [Of the Translations that follow a few were published by Shelley himself, others by Mrs. Shelley in the Posthumous Poems, 1824, or the Poetical Works, 1839, and the remainder by Medwin (1834, 1847), Garnett (1862), Rossetti (1870), Forman (1876) and Locock (1903) from the MS. originals. Shelley's Translations fall between the years 1818 and 1822.] HYMN TO MERCURY TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK OF HOMER [Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824. This alone of the Translations is included in the Harvard MS. book. Fragments of the drafts of this and the other Hymns of Homer exist among the Boscombe MSS.' (Forman).] I SING, Muse, the son of Maia and of Jove, The Herald-child, king of Arcadia And all its pastoral hills, whom in sweet love Bore Heaven's dread Supreme. An antique grove 5 II Now, when the joy of Jove had its fulfilling, A shepherd of thin dreams, a cow-stealing, III The babe was born at the first peep of day; From her immortal limbs he leaped full soon, Nor long could in the sacred cradle keep, IV Out of the lofty cavern wandering 10 15 20 25 He found a tortoise, and cried out-A treasure!' (For Mercury first made the tortoise sing) The beast before the portal at his leisure The flowery herbage was depasturing, Moving his feet in a deliberate measure 30 Over the turf. Jove's profitable son Eying him laughed, and laughing thus begun : 'A useful godsend are you to me now, Lovely in all your nature! Welcome, you Excellent plaything! Where, sweet mountain-beast, Got you that speckled shell? Thus much I know, You must come home with me and be my guest; You will give joy to me, and I will do VI 'Better to be at home than out of door, So come with me; and though it has been said I know you will sing sweetly when you're dead.' And grasping it in his delighted hold, 35 40 45 VII Then scooping with a chisel of gray steel, He bored the life and soul out of the beast.- Darts through the tumult of a human breast VIII And through the tortoise's hard stony skin The open space and fixed the cubits in, IX When he had wrought the lovely instrument, He tried the chords, and made division meet, Joyous and wild and wanton-such you may X He sung how Jove and May of the bright sandal 50 55 60 65 70 And his own birth, still scoffing at the scandal, 75 His mother's cave and servant maids he planned all In plastic verse, her household stuff and state, Perennial pot, trippet, and brazen pan, But singing, he conceived another plan. ΧΙ Seized with a sudden fancy for fresh meat, 80 He in his sacred crib deposited The hollow lyre, and from the cavern sweet Of thievish craft, such as a swindler might Rushed with great leaps up to the mountain's head, 85 Devise in the lone season of dun night. XII Lo! the great Sun under the ocean's bed has Driven steeds and chariot-the child meanwhile strode O'er the Pierian mountains clothed in shadows, 57 stony Boscombe MS., Harvard MS.; strong ed. 1824. Where the immortal oxen of the God Are pastured in the flowering unmown meadows, XIII He drove them wandering o'er the sandy way, So that the tracks which seemed before, were aft; XIV And on his feet he tied these sandals light, Down green Onchestus heaped like beds with grass. XV The old man stood dressing his sunny vine: Halloo old fellow with the crooked shoulder! As you would 'scape what might appal a bolder- XVI So saying, Hermes roused the oxen vast; Till the black night divine, which favouring fell XVII Now to Alpheus he had driven all 90 95 100 105 110 115 120 125 The broad-foreheaded oxen of the Sun; They came unwearied to the lofty stall And to the water-troughs which ever run Through the fresh fields-and when with rushgrass tall, Had pastured been, the great God made them move 130 XVIII A mighty pile of wood the God then heaped, 135 Of fire, from two smooth laurel branches stripped The bark, and rubbed them in his palms;-on high Suddenly forth the burning vapour leaped Mercury first found out for human weal 140 XIX And fine dry logs and roots innumerous He gathered in a delve upon the ground And kindled them-and instantaneous The strength of the fierce flame was breathed around: 145 And whilst the might of glorious Vulcan thus Wrapped the great pile with glare and roaring sound, XX And on the earth upon their backs he threw The panting beasts, and rolled them o'er and o'er, Toasting their flesh and ribs, and all the gore XXI We mortals let an ox grow old, and then 150 155 But joyous-minded Hermes from the glen 160 Drew the fat spoils to the more open station Of a flat smooth space, and portioned them; and when He had by lot assigned to each a ration Of the twelve Gods, his mind became aware Of all the joys which in religion are. 165 XXII For the sweet savour of the roasted meat He checked his haughty will and did not eat, Though what it cost him words can scarce express, And every wish to put such morsels sweet 170 But soon within the lofty portalled stall He placed the fat and flesh and bones and all. XXIII And every trace of the fresh butchery And cooking, the God soon made disappear, As if it all had vanished through the sky; 175 |