Which, through the web of being blindly wove By man and beast and earth and air and sea, Burns bright or dim, as each are mirrors of The fire for which all thirst, now beams on me, Consuming the last clouds of cold mortality. LV. The breath whose might I have invoked in song Whilst, burning through the inmost veil of heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are. TO NIGHT. (1821.) I. Swiftly walk over the western wave, Out of the misty eastern cave Where, all the long and lone daylight, Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear II. Wrap thy form in a mantle grey, Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day; Kiss her until she be wearied out. III. When I arose and saw the dawn, I sighed for thee; When light rode high, and the dew was gone, And noon lay heavy on flower and tree, And the weary Day turned to his rest, Lingering like an unloved guest, I sighed for thee. IV. Thy brother Death came, and cried, Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, 'Shall I nestle near thy side? V. Death will come when thou art dead, Sleep will come when thou art fled. (1821.) ΤΟ Music, when soft voices die, Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Rose-leaves, when the rose is dead, And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, (1821.) O World! O life! O time! On whose last steps I climb, Trembling at that where I had stood before,- Out of the day and night A joy has taken flight; Fresh Spring, and Summer, and Winter hoar, Move my faint heart with grief,—but with delight No more-oh never more! (1821.) To One word is too often profaned One feeling too falsely disdained For prudence to smother; I can give not what men call love: The worship the heart lifts above, And the Heavens reject not: The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow? (1821.) LAST CHORUS OF HELLAS.' The world's great age begins anew, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn: Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam Like wrecks of a dissolving dream. A brighter Hellas rears its mountains A new Peneus rolls his fountains Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep A loftier Argo cleaves the main, And loves, and weeps, and dies; Oh write no more the tale of Troy, Another Athens shall arise, And to remoter time Bequeath, like sunset to the skies, The splendour of its prime; And leave, if nought so bright may live, Saturn and Love their long repose Shall burst, more bright and good Not gold, not blood, their altar dowers, Oh cease! must hate and death return? The world is weary of the past,— Oh might it die or rest at last! LINES. I. When the lamp is shattered The rainbow's glory is shed; II. As music and splendour No song when the spirit is mute :— Or the mournful surges That ring the dead seaman's knell. (1822.) |