It talks according to the wit TO JANE I THE keen stars were twinkling, And the fair moon was rising among them, The guitar was tinkling, But the notes were not sweet till you sung them Again. II As the moon's soft splendor O'er the faint cold starlight of heaven Is thrown, So your voice most tender To the strings without soul had then given Its own. 90 For our beloved Jane, Trelawny MS. || For our beloved friend, Medwin, 1832; For one beloved friend, Palgrave. Mrs. To Jane, Trelawny MS. || ii.-iv., An Ariette for Music. To a Lady singing to her Accompaniment on the Guitar. The Athenæum, November 17, 1832, Mrs. Shelley, 18391. i.-iv., To Shelley, 18392. Published by Medwin and Mrs. Shelley, as above. i. 3 Dear.. Mrs. Shelley, 18392. ii. 4 your, Mrs. Shelley, 18392, || thy Medwin, 1832. 5 had then, Mrs. Shelley, 18392 || has, Medwin, 1832. The stars will awaken, Though the moon sleep a full hour later No leaf will be shaken Whilst the dews of your melody scatter Delight. IV Though the sound overpowers, Sing again, with your dear voice revealing Of some world far from ours, Where music and moonlight and feeling Are one. EPITAPH THESE are two friends whose lives were undivided; So let their memory be, now they have glided Under the grave; let not their bones be parted, For their two hearts in life were single-hearted. THE ISLE THERE was a little lawny islet Like mosaic, paven ; iii. 5 your, Mrs. Shelley, 18392 || thy, Medwin, 1832. iv. 2 your dear, Mrs. Shelley, 18392 || thy sweet, Medwin, 1832. Epitaph. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824. 3 the their, Mrs. Shelley, 18392. The Isle. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824. And its roof was flowers and leaves Each a gem engraven ; Girt by many an azure wave With which the clouds and mountains pave A DIRGE ROUGH wind, that moanest loud Wild wind, when sullen cloud Knells all the night long ; Wail, for the world's wrong. LINES WRITTEN IN THE BAY OF LERICI SHE left me at the silent time When the moon had ceased to climb The azure path of Heaven's steep, And like an albatross asleep, A Dirge. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824. 6 strain, Rossetti conj. || stain, Mrs. Shelley, 1824. Lines Written in the Bay of Lerici. Published by Garnett, Macmillan's Magazine, June, 1862. Ere she sought her ocean nest Which, though silent to the ear, Like notes which die when born, but still And feeling ever- oh, too much! The soft vibration of her touch, As if her gentle hand, even now, That even Fancy dares to claim: In the time which is our own; Over the ocean bright and wide, 37 They, Rossetti || omit, Garnett, 1862. And the wind that winged their flight Of dew, and sweet warmth left by day, And spear about the low rocks damp |