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So in the caverns of the forest green,
By summer woodmen ; and when winter's roar
Hanging upon the peaked wave afar,
Then saw their lamp from Laian's turret gleam, Piercing the stormy darkness like a star
Which pours beyond the sea one steadfast beam, Whilst all the constellations of the sky
Seemed reeling through the storm. They did but
For, lo! the wintry clouds are all gone by, And bright Arcturus through yon pines is glowing,
And far o'er southern waves, immovably
Belted Orion hangs - warm light is flowing From the young moon into the sunset's chasm. "O summer eve with power divine, bestowing
"On thine own bird the sweet enthusiasm Which overflows in notes of liquid gladness, Filling the sky like light! How many a spasm
58 So, Mrs. Shelley, 18391 || And, Mrs. Shelley, 1824. 75 eve, Mrs. Shelley, 18391 || night, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.
"Of fevered brains, oppressed with grief and mad
Were lulled by thee, delightful nightingale !
"And the far sighings of yon piny dale Made vocal by some wind we feel not here, I bear alone what nothing may avail
"To lighten a strange load!"-- No human ear Heard this lament; but o'er the visage wan Of Athanase a ruffling atmosphere
Of dark emotion, a swift shadow, ran,
Beheld his mystic friend's whole being shake,
And with a soft and equal pressure, pressed
"Paused in yon waves her mighty horns to wet, How in those beams we walked, half resting on the sea?
'Tis just one year sure thou dost not forget
"Then Plato's words of light in thee and me Lingered like moonlight in the moonless east ; For we had just then read thy memory
"Is faithful now
'Twas at the season when the Earth upsprings From slumber, as a sphered angel's child, Shadowing its eyes with green and golden wings,
Stands up before its mother bright and mild,
To see it rise thus joyous from its dreams,
The grass in the warm sun did start and move,
Loves then the shade of his own soul, half seen
How many a spirit then puts on the pinions
Sweeps in his dream-drawn chariot, far and fast, More fleet than storms the wide world shrinks
When winter and despondency are passed!
116 beneath, Mrs. Shelley, 18391 || under, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.
'Twas at this season that Prince Athanase Passed the white Alps; those eagle-baffling mountains
Slept in their shrouds of snow; beside the ways
The waterfalls were voiceless, for their fountains Were changed to mines of sunless crystal now; Or, by the curdling winds, like brazen wings
Which clanged along the mountain's marble brow,
Thou art the wine whose drunkenness is all
Catch thee, and feed from their o'erflowing bowls Thousands who thirst for thy ambrosial dew! Thou art the radiance which where ocean rolls
Investest it; and when the heavens are blue
Its deserts and its mountains, till they wear Beauty like some bright robe; thou ever soar
Among the towers of men, and as soft air
142 Invests it: and when heavens are blue, Mrs. Shelley, 1824. Investeth, Rossetti.
144 Shadows, Rossetti.
In spring, which moves the unawakened forest, Clothing with leaves its branches bare and bleak, Thou floatest among men, and aye implorest
That which from thee they should implore; the weak
Alone kneel to thee, offering up the hearts
A garment whom thou clothest not?
Her hair was brown, her spherèd eyes were brown,
Yet when the spirit flashed beneath, there came
THE WOODMAN AND THE NIGHTINGALE
A WOODMAN, whose rough heart was out of tune (I think such hearts yet never came to good), Hated to hear, under the stars or moon,
One nightingale in an interfluous wood
160 flame, Boscombe MS. || frame, Mrs. Shelley, 18392. The Woodman and the Nightingale. Published, 1-67, by Mrs. Shelley, 1824, and, 68-70, by Garnett, 1862. Dated, 1818.