EARLY POEMS [1814, 1815]
[The poems which follow appeared, with a few exceptions, either in the volumes published from time to time by Shelley himself, or in the Posthumous Poems of 1824, or in the Poetical Works of 1839, of which a second and enlarged edition was published by Mrs. Shelley in the same year. A few made their first appearance in some fugitive publication—such as Leigh Hunt's Literary Pocket-Book—and were subsequently incorporated in the collective editions. In every case the editio princeps and (where this is possible) the exact date of composition are indicated below the title.]
STANZA, WRITTEN AT BRACKNELL
[Composed March, 1814. Published in Hogg's Life of Shelley, 1858.]
Thy dewy looks sink in my breast;
Thy gentle words stir poison there:
Thou hast disturbed the only rest
That was the portion of despair!
Subdued to Duty's hard control,5
I could have borne my wayward lot:
The chains that bind this ruined soul
Had cankered then—but crushed it not.
STANZAS.—April, 1814
[Composed at Bracknell, April, 1814. Published with Alastor, 1816.]
Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon,
Rapid clouds have drank the last pale beam of even:
Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon,
And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.
Pause not! The time is past! Every voice cries, Away!5
Tempt not with one last tear[1] thy friend's ungentle mood:
Thy lover's eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay:
Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.
Away, away! to thy sad and silent home;
Pour bitter tears on its desolated hearth;10
Watch the dim shades as like ghosts they go and come,
And complicate strange webs of melancholy mirth.
The leaves of wasted autumn woods shall float around thine head:
The blooms of dewy spring shall gleam beneath thy feet:
But thy soul or this world must fade in the frost that binds the dead,
Ere midnight's frown and morning's smile, ere thou and peace may meet.
The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose,17
For the weary winds are silent, or the moon is in the deep:
Some respite to its turbulence unresting ocean knows;
Whatever moves, or toils, or grieves, hath its appointed sleep.20
Thou in the grave shalt rest—yet till the phantoms flee
Which that house and heath and garden made dear to thee erewhile,
Thy remembrance, and repentance, and deep musings are not free
From the music of two voices and the light of one sweet smile.
- ↑ tear 1816; glance 1839.
