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Mayer has met me in this matter, or the energy and acuteness with which he has searched through masses of documents of a confused and intricate character, to recover all that was recoverable; and all Shelley students will be indebted to him for what he has brought to light. For unremitting and most valuable assistance in reading the proof-sheets, my warmest thanks are due to my friend Mr. John H. Ingram, the Editor of Poe's Works, and to my brother, Alfred Forman; and I have also to name in the same connexion my friend Mr. Alexr. H. Japp, whose well known labours under the pseudonym of "H. A. Page" have led him in such paths as to make his help peculiarly valuable.

I have to thank Mr. Frederick Locker for permitting me to inspect or transcribe, as the case might be, his books and documents in this connexion; and, for the loan of books, greatly facilitating my labours, I am much beholden. to the kindness of Mr. George Bell, and of Mr. John R. P. Kirby, an enthusiastic and indefatigable collector of books in modern literature, who has given me much bibliographical information.

Concerning the illustrations there is not much to be said. The portrait by Miss Curran is inserted in deference to the wishes of Sir Percy Shelley, who, on the high authority of his mother, maintains that it is the best portrait extant. As regards the etching of Shelley's house at Marlow, I feel sure it will be a welcome gift to the poet's many lovers: the artist, Dr. Arthur Evershed, made

an excursion to Marlow with the express view of etching this plate for the present volume, containing the main produce of Shelley's stay there; and while on the spot, Dr. Evershed copied for me the inscription placed upon the house by direction of Sir William Robert Clayton, Bart. It is as follows:

THIS TABLET WAS PLACED A.D. 1867

AT THE INSTANCE OF

SIR WILLIAM ROBERT CLAYTON BART.

TO PERPETUATE THE RECORD THAT

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

LIVED AND WORKED IN THIS HOUSE

AND WAS HERE VISITED BY

LORD BYRON

HE IS GONE WHERE ALL THINGS WISE AND FAIR

DESCEND. OH DREAM NOT THAT THE AMOROUS DEEP

WILL YET RESTORE HIM TO THE VITAL AIR,

DEATH FEEDS ON HIS MUTE VOICE, AND LAUGHS AT OUR DESPAIR.

ADONAIS.

It should be noted that the reference to Byron is necessarily apocryphal, inasmuch as his Lordship had finally left England before Shelley took the house at Marlow,-a misapprehension which doubtless, to be promptly corrected, only needs to be pointed out.

H. BUXTON FORMAN.

38, Marlborough Hill, St. John's Wood,

14 August, 1876.

THE CHOICE

A POEM ON SHELLEY'S DEATH

BY

MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY

[In a letter from Mrs. Shelley to Mrs. Leigh Hunt, dated the 27th of November, 1823, and printed in Mr. Garnett's Relics of Shelley, occurs the following passage:-"When he [Leigh Hunt] does send a packet over (let it be directed to his brother), will he also be so good as to send me a copy of my 'Choice,' beginning after the line 'Entrenched sad lines, or blotted with its might.' Perhaps, dear Marianne, you would have the kindness to copy them for me, and send them soon." Mr. Garnett explains in a foot-note that the reference is to "a poem by Mrs. Shelley." Whether any copy was made and sent, I know not; but the original manuscript has remained among the Shelley papers of Leigh Hunt till now; and by the kindness of Mr. S. R. Townshend Mayer, who has placed these invaluable papers at my disposal, I am enabled to give to the world this most interesting and remarkable composition. The manuscript consists of six foolscap leaves, very clearly written: it had evidently been submitted to Leigh Hunt for revision or suggestion; and it bears several markings by him, and words in his handwriting, which have some claim to be considered part and parcel of the text, inasmuch as Mrs. Shelley has evidently been over the manuscript after him,-one word of his being struck out and another substituted in her writing.-H. B. F.]

THE CHOICE.

My Choice! My Choice, alas! was had and gone
With the red gleam of last autumnal sun;1

Lost in that deep wherein he bathed his head,

My choice, my life, my hope together fled :

A wanderer here, no more I seek a home,

The sky a vault, and Italy a tomb.

Yet as some days a pilgrim I remain,

Linked to my orphan child by love's strong chain;
And since I have a faith that I must earn,

By suffering and by patience, a return
Of that companionship and love, which first
Upon my young life's cloud like sunlight burst,
And now has left me, dark, as when its beams,
Quenched in the might of dreadful ocean streams,
Leave that one cloud, a gloomy speck on high,
Beside one star in the else darkened sky;—
Since I must live, how would I pass the day,

1 Shelley was drowned, it will be remembered, on the 8th of July, 1822. In the autumn of 1823, Mrs. Shelley arrived in London from Italy, where,

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from the letter already quoted, sho seems to have left this poem.

2 Percy Florence, now Sir Percy Florence Shelley.

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