XV Oh, that the free would stamp the impious name So that this blot upon the page of fame Lift the victory-flashing sword, And cut the snaky knots of this foul gordian word, Which, weak itself as stubble, yet can bind The axes and the rods which awe mankind; The sound has poison in it, 'tis the sperm Of what makes life foul, cankerous, and abhorred; Disdain not thou, at thine appointed term, To set thine armèd heel on this reluctant worm. XVI Oh, that the wise from their bright minds would kindle Such lamps within the dome of this dim world, That the pale name of Priest might shrink and dwindle Into the hell from which it first was hurled, A scoff of impious pride from fiends impure; Till human thoughts might kneel alone, Each before the judgment-throne Of its own aweless soul, or of the power unknown! Oh, that the words which make the thoughts obscure xv. 2 King, Boscombe MS. || . ... Shelley, 1820. From which they spring, as clouds of glimmering dew From a white lake blot heaven's blue portraiture, Were stripped of their thin masks and various hue And frowns and smiles and splendors not their own, Till in the nakedness of false and true They stand before their Lord, each to receive its due. XVII He who taught man to vanquish whatsoever And power in thought be as the tree within the seed? Oh, what if Art, an ardent intercessor, Driving on fiery wings to Nature's throne, Checks the great mother stooping to caress her And cries: "Give me, thy child, dominion Over all height and depth?" if Life can breed New wants, and wealth from those who toil and groan Rend of thy gifts and hers a thousandfold for one. XVIII Come thou, but lead out of the inmost cave Of man's deep spirit, as the morning-star xvii. 9 Oh, Shelley, 1820 || Or, Mrs. Shelley, 18391. Beckons the sun from the Eoan wave, Wisdom. I hear the pennons of her car Self-moving, like cloud charioted by flame; Comes she not, and come ye not, Rulers of eternal thought, To judge with solemn truth life's ill-apportioned lot? Blind Love, and equal Justice, and the Fame Of what has been, the Hope of what will be? O Liberty! if such could be thy name Wert thou disjoined from these, or they from If thine or theirs were treasures to be bought harmony XIX Paused, and the Spirit of that mighty singing When the bolt has pierced its brain; As summer clouds dissolve unburdened of their rain; As a far taper fades with fading night, As a brief insect dies with dying day, My song, its pinions disarrayed of might, Drooped; o'er it closed the echoes far away Of the great voice which did its flight sustain, As waves which lately paved his watery way Hiss round a drowner's head in their tempestuous play. TO I FEAR thy kisses, gentle maiden, My spirit is too deeply laden I fear thy mien, thy tones, thy motion, ARETHUSA I ARETHUSA arose From her couch of snows Her steps paved with green Which slopes to the western gleams ; To. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824. Arethusa. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824, and dated by her, Pisa, 1820. In murmurs as soft as sleep; The Earth seemed to love her, As she lingered towards the deep. II Then Alpheus bold, On his glacier cold, With his trident the mountains strook; And opened a chasm In the rocks - with the spasm All Erymanthus shook. And the black south wind It concealed behind The urns of the silent snow, And earthquake and thunder The bars of the springs below. III "Oh, save me! Oh, guide me, For he grasps me now by the hair!" And divided at her prayer; And under the water The Earth's white daughter |