THE serpent is shut out from paradise. The wounded deer must seek the herb no more In which its heart-cure lies; The widowed dove must cease to haunt a bower, Like that from which its mate with feignèd sighs Fled in the April hour. I, too, must seldom seek again Near happy friends a mitigated pain. II Of hatred I am proud, with scorn content; Indifference, that once hurt me, now is grown Itself indifferent; iii. 4 Houghton MS., Harvard MS., Mrs. Shelley, 1824 || Sadder flowers find for me, Trelawny MS. iii. 8 Houghton MS., Harvard MS., Mrs. Shelley, 1824 || a hope, a fear, Trelawny MS. To Edward Williams. Rossetti || To. Trelawny MS. Stanzas to... Ascham, 1834. Stanzas. Mrs. Shelley, 18391. Published in Ascham's edition, 1834. ii. 2 which once hurt me is now, Trelawny MS. But, not to speak of love, pity alone Can break a spirit already more than bent. The miserable one Turns the mind's poison into food, Its medicine is tears, its evil good. III Therefore if now I see you seldomer, Dear friends, dear friend! know that I only fly Your looks, because they stir Griefs that should sleep, and hopes that cannot die. The very comfort that they minister I scarce can bear; yet I, So deeply is the arrow gone, Should quickly perish if it were withdrawn. IV When I return to my cold home, you ask Of acting a forced part in life's dull scene, In the world's carnival. I sought Full half an hour, to-day, I tried my lot iii. 2 Dear friends, dear friend, Trelawny MS., Mrs. Shelley, 18392 || Dear gentle friend, Mrs. Shelley, 18391. iv. 2 ever, Mrs. Shelley, 18391 || lately, Trelawny MS. 4 in, Trelawny MS. || on, Mrs. Shelley, 18391. "She loves me - loves me not." And if this meant a vision long since fled If it meant fortune, fame, or peace of thought If it meant, but I dread To speak what you may know too well: Still there was truth in the sad oracle. VI The crane o'er seas and forests seeks her home; The sleepless billows on the ocean's breast Doubtless there is a place of peace Where my weak heart and all its throbs will cease. VII I asked her, yesterday, if she believed Would ne'er have thus relieved His heart with words, but what his judgment bade Would do, and leave the scorner unrelieved. To send to you, but that I know, vi. 3 Whence, Mrs. Shelley, 18391. 8 will, Mrs. Shelley, 18392 || shall, Mrs. Shelley, 18391. vii. 5 unrelieved, Trelawny MS., Mrs. Shelley, 18392 || unreprieved, Mrs. Shelley, 18391. vii. 6 were, Trelawny MS. TO-MORROW WHERE art thou, beloved To-morrow? When young and old, and strong and weak, Rich and poor, through joy and sorrow, Thy sweet smiles we ever seek, – In thy place ah! well-a-day! LINES IF I walk in Autumn's even A LAMENT I O WORLD! O life! O time! On whose last steps I climb, Trembling at that where I had stood before; When will return the glory of your prime? No more oh, never more! To-morrow. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824. A Lament. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824. |