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POEMS WRITTEN IN 1817
A PALE dream came to a Lady fair,
And things are lost in the glare of day,
"And thou shalt know of things unknown,
Over thine eyes so dark and sheen."
At first all deadly shapes were driven
And o'er the vast cope of bending heaven
If the golden sun shone forth on high.
Marianne's Dream. Published by Hunt in The Literary PocketBook, 1819. Composed at Marlow, 1817.
iii. 6 gold, Mrs. Shelley, 1824.
And, as towards the east she turned,
The sky was blue as the summer sea,
The depths were cloudless overhead, The air was calm as it could be,
There was no sight or sound of dread, But that black Anchor floating still Over the piny eastern hill.
The Lady grew sick with a weight of fear
There was a mist in the sunless air,
Which shook as it were with an earthquake's
But the very weeds that blossomed there
Stood on its basis steadfastly;
But piled around, with summits hid
Among whose everlasting walls
On two dread mountains, from whose crest
Those tower-encircled cities stood.
And columns framed of marble white,
With workmanship, which could not come From touch of mortal instrument,
Shot o'er the vales, or lustre lent
But still the Lady heard that clang
x. 6 vales a, Rossetti conj.; 7 its || their, Rossetti conj.
And still the mist whose light did hang
Sudden from out that city sprung
A light that made the earth grow red; Two flames that each with quivering tongue Licked its high domes, and overhead Among those mighty towers and fanes Dropped fire, as a volcano rains Its sulphurous ruin on the plains.
And hark! a rush, as if the deep
Had burst its bonds; she looked behind, And saw over the western steep
A raging flood descend, and wind
And now those raging billows came
By the wild waves heaped tumultuously; And, on a little plank, the flow Of the whirlpool bore her to and fro.
The flames were fiercely vomited
O'er that vast flood's suspended foam,
The plank whereon that Lady sate Was driven through the chasms, about and about,
Between the peaks so desolate
Of the drowning mountains, in and out, As the thistle-beard on a whirlwind sailsWhile the flood was filling those hollow vales.
At last her plank an eddy crossed,
And bore her to the city's wall,
Which now the flood had reached almost;
To hear the fire roar and hiss
Through the domes of those mighty palaces.
The eddy whirled her round and round