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All those who love and who e'er loved like
Fiordispina? Scarcely Cosimo,
Within whose bosom and whose brain now glow The ardors of a vision which obscure
The very idol of its portraiture.
He faints, dissolved into a sea of love;
But thou art Love itself ruling the motion
Must end in sin or sorrow, if sweet May
Had not brought forth this morn, your wedding
"Lie there; sleep awhile in your own dew,
A table near of polished porphyry.
They seemed to wear a beauty from the eye
As sleepers wear, lulled by the voice they love,
Of gentle beauty on the flowers; there lay
20 e'er, Garnett || ever, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.
All gems that make the earth's dark bosom
rods of myrtle-buds and lemon-blooms,
Fiordispina and her nurse are now
step by step and stair by stair, That withered woman, gray and white and brown
More like a trunk by lichens overgrown
Than anything which once could have been hu
And ever as she goes the palsied woman
"How slow and painfully you seem to walk, Poor Media! you tire yourself with talk." "And well it may,
"And if my love were
Unless my heart deceives me, I would lie
With the sweet dance your heart must keep to
What would you take all beauty and delight
And say, sweet lamb, would you not learn the sweet
And subtle mystery by which spirits meet?
THE BIRTH OF PLEASURE
AT the creation of the Earth
Of an ever-lengthening line
Which enwrapped her perfect form
The Birth of Pleasure. Forman || no title, Garnett. Published by Garnett, 1862, and dated, 1819.
LOVE, HOPE, DESIRE, AND FEAR
AND many there were hurt by that strong boy;
In earth and air and sea;
Nothing that lives from their award is free.
Of the four elements that frame the heart,
By force or circumstance or sleight
Desire presented her [false] glass, and then
Was spellbound to embrace what seemed so fair
And, dazed by that bright error,
It would have scorned the [shafts] of the avenger,
Touched with her palsying spear,—
So that, as if a frozen torrent,
The blood was curdled in its current;
It dared not speak, even in look or motion,
But chained within itself its proud devotion.
Love, Hope, Desire, and Fear. Published by Garnett, 1862, and dated, 1821.
Between Desire and Fear thou wert
A wretched thing, poor Heart!
Sad was his life who bore thee in his breast, Wild bird for that weak nest.
Till Love even from fierce Desire it bought,
At one birth these four were born
When, as summer lures the swallow,