PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
Ah 1 fleeter far than fleetest storm or steed,
Or the death they bear, The heart which tender thought clothes like a dove
With the wings of care ; In the battle, in the darkness, in the need,
Shall mine cling to thee,
Nor claim one smile for all the comfort, love, It may bring to thee.
621 Lines
r HEN the lamp is, shattcr'd,
��The light in the dust lies dead;
When the cloud is scatter'd, The rainbow's glory is shed,
When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are rcmcmbcr'd not;
When the lips have spoken, Loved accents arc soon forgot.
As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute,
The heart's echoes render No song when the spirit is mute
No song but sad dirges, Like the wind through a ruin'd cell,
Or the mournful surges That ring the dead seaman's knell.
When hearts have once mingled, Love first leaves the well-built nest;
The weak one is singled To endure what it once possest.
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