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Are graves from which a glorious Phantom may Burst to illumine our tempestuous day.



GOD prosper, speed, and save,
God raise from England's grave
Her murdered Queen!
Pave with swift victory
The steps of Liberty,
Whom Britons own to be
Immortal Queen.


See, she comes throned on high,
On swift Eternity,

God save the Queen!
Millions on millions wait
Firm, rapid, and elate,
On her majestic state!

God save the Queen!


She is thine own pure soul
Moulding the mighty whole, —
God save the Queen!
She is thine own deep love

Rained down from heaven above,
Wherever she rest or move,
God save our Queen!

National Anthem, Mrs. Shelley, 18392 || God save the Queen, Rossetti. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 18392.


Wilder her enemies

In their own dark disguise,
God save our Queen!
All earthly things that dare
Her sacred name to bear,
Strip them, as kings are, bare;
God save the Queen!


Be her eternal throne
Built in our hearts alone,

God save the Queen!
Let the oppressor hold
Canopied seats of gold;
She sits enthroned of old
O'er our hearts Queen.


Lips touched by seraphim
Breathe out the choral hymn,—
God save the Queen!

Sweet as if angels sang,

Loud as that trumpet's clang, Wakening the world's dead gang,— God save the Queen!




PALACE-ROOF of cloudless nights!
Paradise of golden lights!

Deep, immeasurable, vast,
Which art now, and which wert then,
Of the present and the past,
Of the eternal where and when,
Presence-chamber, temple, home,
Ever-canopying dome

Of acts and ages yet to come!

Glorious shapes have life in thee,
Earth, and all earth's company;

Living globes which ever throng
Thy deep chasms and wildernesses;

And green worlds that glide along ;
And swift stars with flashing tresses ;

And icy moons most cold and bright,
And mighty suns beyond the night,
Atoms of intensest light.

Even thy name is as a god,
Heaven! for thou art the abode

Of that power which is the glass
Wherein man his nature sees.

Generations as they pass
Worship thee with bended knees.

Ode to Heaven. Published with Prometheus Unbound, 1820.

Dated in the Harvard MS., Florence, December, 1819.

Their unremaining gods and they
Like a river roll away;
Thou remainest such alway.


Thou art but the mind's first chamber,
Round which its young fancies clamber,
Like weak insects in a cave,
Lighted up by stalactites;

But the portal of the grave,
Where a world of new delights

Will make thy best glories seem
But a dim and noonday gleam
From the shadow of a dream!


Peace! the abyss is wreathed with scorn
At your presumption, atom-born!

What is heaven? and what are ye
Who its brief expanse inherit?

What are suns and spheres which flee With the instinct of that Spirit

Of which ye are but a part?
Drops which Nature's mighty heart
Drives through thinnest veins. Depart!

What is heaven? a globe of dew,

Filling in the morning new

Some eyed flower whose young leaves waken On an unimagined world;

Constellated suns unshaken, Orbits measureless, are furled

In that frail and fading sphere,

With ten millions gathered there,
To tremble, gleam, and disappear.


CHAMELEONS feed on light and air;
Poets' food is love and fame;
If in this wide world of care

Poets could but find the same
With as little toil as they,

Would they ever change their hue
As the light chameleons do,
Suiting it to every ray
Twenty times a day?

Poets are on this cold earth,

As chameleons might be,
Hidden from their early birth

In a cave beneath the sea.
Where light is, chameleons change;
Where love is not, poets do;
Fame is love disguised; if few
Find either, never think it strange
That poets range.

Yet dare not stain with wealth or power
A poet's free and heavenly mind.
If bright chameleons should devour
Any food but beams and wind,
They would grow as earthly soon

An Exhortation. Published with Prometheus Unbound, 1820.

Dated in the Harvard MS., Pisa, April, 1820. ii. 1 on, Shelley, 1820 || in, Harvard MS.

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