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TO WILLIAM SHELLEY
541
With fairest smiles of wonder thrown
On that which is indeed our own,
And which in distant lands will be
The dearest playmate unto thee.
On that which is indeed our own,
And which in distant lands will be
The dearest playmate unto thee.
IV
Fear not the tyrants will rule for ever,[1] 25
Or the priests of the evil faith;
They stand on the brink of that raging river,
Whose waves they have tainted with death.
It is fed from the depth of a thousand dells,
Around them it foams and rages and swells; 30
And their swords and their sceptres I floating see,
Like wrecks on the surge of eternity.
Fear not the tyrants will rule for ever,[1] 25
Or the priests of the evil faith;
They stand on the brink of that raging river,
Whose waves they have tainted with death.
It is fed from the depth of a thousand dells,
Around them it foams and rages and swells; 30
And their swords and their sceptres I floating see,
Like wrecks on the surge of eternity.
V
Rest, rest, and[2] shriek not, thou gentle child!
The rocking of the boat thou fearest,
And the cold spray and the clamour wild?— 35
There, sit between us two, thou dearest—
Me and thy mother—well we know
The storm at which thou tremblest so,
With all its dark and hungry graves,
Less cruel than the savage slaves 40
Who hunt us[3] o'er these sheltering waves.
Rest, rest, and[2] shriek not, thou gentle child!
The rocking of the boat thou fearest,
And the cold spray and the clamour wild?— 35
There, sit between us two, thou dearest—
Me and thy mother—well we know
The storm at which thou tremblest so,
With all its dark and hungry graves,
Less cruel than the savage slaves 40
Who hunt us[3] o'er these sheltering waves.
VI
This hour will[4] in thy memory
Be a dream of days forgotten long[5].
We soon shall dwell by the azure sea
Of serene and golden Italy, 45
Or Greece, the Mother of the free;
And I will teach thine infant tongue
To call upon those[6] heroes old
In their own language, and will mould
Thy growing spirit in the flame
Of Grecian lore, that by such name 50
A patriot's birthright thou mayst claim!
This hour will[4] in thy memory
Be a dream of days forgotten long[5].
We soon shall dwell by the azure sea
Of serene and golden Italy, 45
Or Greece, the Mother of the free;
And I will teach thine infant tongue
To call upon those[6] heroes old
In their own language, and will mould
Thy growing spirit in the flame
Of Grecian lore, that by such name 50
A patriot's birthright thou mayst claim!
FROM THE ORIGINAL DRAFT OF THE POEM TO WILLIAM SHELLEY
[Published in Dr. Garnett's Relics of Shelley, 1862.]
I
The world is now our dwelling-place;
Where'er the earth one fading trace
Of what was great and free does keep,
The world is now our dwelling-place;
Where'er the earth one fading trace
Of what was great and free does keep,
- ↑ 25-32 Fear . . . eternity omitted, transcript. See Rosalind and Helen, ll. 894-901.
- ↑ and transcript; omitted edd. 1839.
- ↑ us transcript, 1839, 1st ed.; thee 1839, 2nd ed.
- ↑ will in transcript, 1839. 2nd ed.; will sometime in 1839, 1st ed.
- ↑ long transcript; omitted edd. 1839.
- ↑ those transcript, 1839, 1st ed.; their 1839, 2nd ed.
