The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley

Section I

:— PRINCIPAL POEMS. Queen Mab (1813) — tags To Harriett Shelley ...«••" * Queen Mab, Section I. ...•»• * V „ ,, II. ..... 7 .. HI .-iv. Il " V* ....■• f "VI =7 "VII 3* 11VIII. ...... 38 ;; "ix. « Alastor : or, The Spirit of Solitude (i3is)— ?.eface • ■ : .... Js Alastor ...•••'" The Revolt of Islam (1817)-— Dedication ...>•■"• + ->">,!• ■ • • ; : : : : 7l :: 1": : : : : . • • % " vT* ■ ii2 If VII. ...•>• i.VIII. . If, ..IX. !J| " TTT ' : : .151 „ XII. I5S CONTENTS. 6 PAGB Rosalind and Helen (i8i3) — Advertisement .....•• I^4 Rosalind and Helen ..•■••• lf>5 Julian and Maddalo (1S18)— ■ Prefatory Note ....... *92 Julian and Maddalo a ..... 192 Prometheus Unbound (1S19)— Act I. ... » , . - 206 ir II. ' . . . _ . . * .225 11 III. ; .* _. . . . . ,240 II IV. . . - . r ■ . . 251 The Cenci (18 19)— Act I. . . . . , . . . .26s nit. . ■ 275 Will. . c 282 w IV ,294 w V. . ■ . . o _. . - . 306 Peter Bell the Third (x8is>**— Prologue . . • • . * a • "321 Part I. — Death ..._>_>•• 322 11 II. — The Devil ... r ■ . a2_t .- III.— Hell 325 w IV. — Sin . ...... 3 328 v V. — Grace ..._-... 330 w VI. — Damnation ....... 332 11 VII. — Double Damnation . ... 337 Œdipus Tyrannus ; or, Swellfoot the Tyrant (1820) — Advertisement ....... 340 ActrJ 34i w 11. ■ . • ...... 3£j The Witch of Atlas (1820)— To Mary . ...... 36a The Witch of Atlas ... --• • * • • • 361 Epipsychidion (1820) — .

Advertisements '. • • •' • • - 375 Epipsychidion ....... 376 Adonais ; An Elegy on the Death of John Keats (1821)— . 389 Hellas (iSsi) — Preface ,»..••■• 400 Hellas • • __■*••- • 4°* CONTENTS.

Section II

— MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. PAGE Earlv Poems — To Coleridge ........ 427 Stanzas (April 1814) ....... 428 Mutability (We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon) . 429 On Death (The pale, the cold, and the moony smile) . . 429 A Summer-Evening Churchyard, Lechlade, Gloucestershire (1815) 430 To Wordsworth ....... 430 Feelings of a Republican on the Fall of Bonaparte . . 431 Lines (The cold earth slept below) ..... 431 Poems written in 1816 — The Sunset ........ 433 Hymn to Intellectual Beatty ..... 434 Mont Blanc ........ 436 Poems written in 1817 — Marianne 5 Dream ....... 440 Death (They die — the dead return not.

Misery) . . . 443 To Constantia, Singing ...... 444 Sonnet, G__rymandias ....... 445 To the Lord Chancellor ...... 445 To William Shelley (Thc billows on the beach are leaping around it) 447 Lines (That time is dead for ever, child) .... 448 On Fanny Godwin . ...... 448 Lines to a Critic ..._.... 448 Poems written in 1818 — Passage of the Apennines ...... 450 On a Dead Violet ...-.-. 450 Thc Jr'ast ........ 451 Sonnet (Lift not the painted veil which those who live) . . 451 Lines written among the Euganean Hills .... 451 Stanzas written in Dejection near Naples . . . . 459 Misery ....••-• 460 Poems written in 1819— The Masque of Anarchy . . . . _ 4^2 Lines written during the Castlereagh Administration . . 47° Song — To the Men of England ..... ,47* England in 1819 . - .... 472 Similes for Two Political Characters of 1819 . .472 God Save the Queen ..... 473 An Ode to the Asserters of Liberty . . . . 474 Ode to Heaven ....... 474 Ode to the West Wind . . . . . .476 An Exhortation ........ 477 The Indian Serenade ...... 478 Lines written for Miss Sophia Stacey .... 479 Poems written in 1820 — Love s Philosophy ...••>. 4'0 Ode to Liberty ,....•• 4?° Arethusa ........ 486 Hymn of Apollo ....... 4*8 CONTENTS. 8 PAGE Poems written in 1820 — Continued— Hymn of Pan ........ 489 The Question ........ 490 The Sensitive Plant ....... 491 The Cloud ........... 498 To a Skylark . . . . . . ■ ... 499 To (I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden) .... '502 The Two Spirits, an Allegory ..... 502 Song of Proserpine ....... 503 Letter to Maria Gisborne ...._• 504 Ode to Naples . . . ■ ' > . 510 Summer and Winter .<,..._.» 514 Lines to a Reviewer ....... 514 Autumn, a Dirge ....... 515 Liberty . . '. . . . 515' The Tower of Famine ...... 516 Good Night ........ 516 Time Long Past ....... 517 Sonnet (Ye hasten to the dead : what seek ye there) . . 517 Poems written in 1821 — Dirge for the Year ....... 518 To Night . . . . . . 519 From the Arabic, an Imitation ..... 519 To Emilia Viviani ...._>.. 520 Time ......... 520 Lines (Far, far away, O ye) ...... 520 The Fugitives ........ 521 To (Music, when soft voices die) , 522 Song (Rarely, rarely, comest thou) ..... 522 Lines written on hearing the news of the Death 01 Napoleon . 524 Mutability (The flower that smiles to-day) . . - „ 525 Sonnet, Political Greatness ...... 525 Lines (If I walk in autumn's even) ..... 525 To-morrow ......... 526 The Aziola ........ 526 A Lament ........ 526 Remembrance * . . . . . . 527 To Edward Williams . . . , . . . 527 To (One word is too often profaned) .... 529 Xo (When passion's trance is overpast) . . . 529 A Bridal Song ....... 529 Poems written in i8_:___— The Magnetic Lady to her Patient ..... 531 Lines (When the lamp is shattered) ..... 532 To Jane— the Invitation ..►.,_, 533 To Jane — the Recollection ...... 534 With a Guitar, to Jane . . ... . . 536 A Dirge ........ 538 To Jane (The keen stars were twinkling) .... 538 Lines written in the Bay of Lerici . .'7 . . 539 Epitaph . . . |.

. . 540

Section III

— FRAGMENTS. 1. To Mary Woolstone craft Godwin . 541 2. Prince Athanase . . • , . . S42 CONTENTS. 9 PAGE Fragments — Continued— 3. Otho ...... -549 4. To Mary Shelley (1818) 5. The Woodman and the Nightingale .... 549 6. O mighty mind, in whose deep stream this age . , crj 7. Silence ! Oh well are Death and Sleep and Thou . . 551 8. The fierce beasts ofthe woods and wildernesses . , 9. My head is wild with weeping for a grief . . . 552 10. Flourishing vine whose kindling clusters grow . . . 552 11. Scene from Tasso — Song for Tasso .... 552 12. Marenghi . ....... 553 13. Ye gentle visitations of calm thought .... 557 14. The world is dreary ...... 557 15. To William Shelley (Thy little footsteps on the sands) , 557 16. To William Shelley (My lost William, thou in whom) , 557 17. On the Medusa of Leonardo da Vinci .... 558 18.

Such hope as is the sick despair of good (1820) . . 559 19. My head is heavy, my limb* are weary . . . 559 20. A Vision of the Sea ...... 559 sx. The Waning Moon ...... 562 22. Death (Death is here, and death is there} . . . 563 23. The Worlds Wanderers ...... 563 24. Prologue to Hellas . . ... ■ . 564 25. I would not be a King— Enough .... 568 26. O thou immortal deity ...... 568 27- He wanders, like a day-appearing dream . . . 568 28. Ginevra ........ 568 29. Evening, Ponte al Mare, Pisa ..... 573 30. The Boat on the Serchio ...... 574 31. Music (I pant for the music which is divine) . . . 576 32. Sonnet to Byron ....... 577 33. I fa-int, I perish with my love ! I grow .... 577 34. Great Spirit whom the sea of boundless thought . . 577 35. Faint with love, the Lady ofthe South .... 577 36.

The Zucca (1822) ....... 578 37. The Isle . . . . . . -579 38. Fragments of an unfinished Drama . ... . 580 39. Charles the First . . . . . ' . 585 40. Lines (We meet not as we parted) .... 603 41. Bright wanderer, fair coquette of heaven . . , 604 42. The Triumph of Life ...... 604 a THE POETICAL WORKS OF PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. QUEEN MAB. TO HARRIETT SHELLEY. Whose is the love that, gleaming through the world, Wards off the poisonous arrow of its scorn? Whose is the warm and partial praise. Virtue's most sweet reward ? Beneath whose looks did my reviving soui Riper in truth and virtuous daring grow ? Whose eyes have I gazed fondly on. And loved mankind the more ? Harriett! on thine: — thou wert my purer mind; Thou wert the inspiration of my song ; Thine are these early wilding flowers. Though garlanded by me.

Then press into thy breast this pledge of love : And know, though time may change and years may roll, Each floweret gathered ir. my heart It consecrates to thine. QUEEN MAB. I. How wonderful is Death — Death, and his brother Sleep ! One, pale as yonder waning moon, With lips of lurid blue ; The other, rosy as the mom When, throned on ocean's wave, It blushes o'er the world : Yet both so passing wonderful ! ' Hath then the gloomy Power Whose reign is in the tainted sepulchres Seized on her sinless soul? Must that divinest form, Which love and admiration cannot view Without a beating heart, those azure veins Which steal like streams along a field of snow, That lovely outline, which is fair As breathing marble, perish ? A I QUEEN MAB. Must putrefaction's breath Leave nothing of this heavenly sight But loathsomeness and ruin ?

Spare nothing but a gloomy theme On which the lightest heart might moralize ? Or is it only a sweet slumber Stealing o'er sensation, Which the breath of roseate morning Chaseth into darkness ? Will Ianthe wake again, And give that faithful bosom joy Whose sleepless spirit waits to catch Light, life, and rapture, from her smile ? Yes ! she will wake again, Although her glowing limbs are motionless, And silent those sweet lips, Once breathing eloquence That might have soothed a tiger's rage, Or thawed the cold heart of a conqueror. Her dewy eyes are closed, And on their lids, whose texture fine Scarce hides the dark-blue orbs beneath, The baby Sleep is pillowed : Her golden tresses shade The bosom's stainless pride, Curling like tendrils of the parasite Around a marble column. Hark ! whence that rushing sound ? 'Tis like a wondrous strain that sweeps Around a lonely ruin, When west winds sigh, and evening waves respond In whispers from the shore ; 'Tis wilder than the unmeasured notes Which from the unseen lyres of dells and groves The genii of the breezes sweep.

Floating on waves of music and of light, Behold the chariot of the Fairy Queen ! Celestial coursers paw the unyielding air ; Their filmy pennons at her word they furl, And stop obedient to the reins of light. These the Queen of Spells drew in ; She spread a charm around the spot ; And, leaning graceful from the etherial car, Long did she gaze and silently Upon the slumbering maid. Human eye hath ne'er beheld A shape so wild, so bright, so beautiful, As that which o'er the maiden's charmed sleep, Waving a starry wand, Hung like a mist of light. The broad and yellow moon Shone dimly through her form — That form of faultless symmetry ; The pearly and pellucid car Moved not the moonlight's line. 'Twas not an earthly pageant. Those who had looked upon the sight, Passing all human glory, Saw not the yellow moon, Saw not the mortal scene, — Heard not the night-wind's rush, Heard not an earthly sound ; Saw but the fairy pageant, — Heard but the heavenly strains That filled the lonely dwelling.

The Fairy's frame was slight ; slight as some cloud That catches but the palest tinge of day When evening yields to night, — Bright as that fibrous woof when stars indue Its transitory robe. Her thin and misty form Moved with the moving air; Such sounds as breathed around like odorous winds Of wakening Spring arose, Filling the chamber and the midnight sky. "Maiden, the world's supremest Spirit Beneath the shadow of her wings Folds all thy memory doth inherit From ruin of divinest things, — Feelings that lure thee to betray, And light of thoughts that pass away. ' ' For thou hast earned a mighty boon ; The truths which wisest poets see Dimly, thy mind may make its own, Rewarding its own majesty, Entranced in some diviner mood Of self-oblivious solitude. " Custom and faith and power thou spumest, From hate and awe thy heart is free ; Ardent and pure as day thou burnest ; • For dark and cold mortality A living light, to cheer it long The watch-fires of the world among.

"Therefore, from Nature's inner shrine, Where gods and fiends in worship bend, Majestic Spirit, be it thine The flame to seize, — the veil to rend, Where the vast snake Eternity In charmed sleep doth ever lie. " All that inspires thy voice of love, Or speaks in thy unclosing eyes, Or through thy frame doth bum and move, Or think or feel, awake, arise ! Spirit, leave, for mine and me, Earth's unsubstantial mimicry ! " It ceased : and from the mute and moveless frame A radiant Spirit rose, All beautiful in naked purity. Instinct with inexpressible beauty and grace, Each stain of earthliness Had passed away ; it reassumed Its native dignity, and stood Immortal amid ruin. Upon the couch the body lay, Wrapped in the depth of slumber : Its features were fixed and meaningless ; Yet animal life was there, And every organ yet performed Its natural functions. 'Twas a sight Of wonder to behold the body and Soul.

The self-same lineaments, the same Marks of identity, were there ; Yet oh how different ! One aspires to heaven, Pants for its sempiternal heritage, And, ever-changing, ever-rising still, Wantons in endless being. The other, for a time the unwilling sport Of circumstance and passion, struggles on ; Fleets through its sad duration rapidly ; Then, like a useless and worn-out machine, Rots, perishes, and passes. Fairy. Spirit who hast dived so deep, Spirit who hast soared so high, Thou the fearless, thou the mild, Accept the boon thy worth hath earned, — Ascend the car with me. Spirit. Do I dream? Is this new feeling But a visioned ghost of slumber ? if indeed I am a Soul, A free, a disembodied Soul, Speak again to me. Fairy. I am the Fairy Mab. To me 'tis given The wonders of tlie human world to keep.

The secrets of the immeasurable past In the unfailing consciences of men, Those stern unflattering chroniclers, I find. The future, from the causes which arise In each event, I gather. Not the sting Which retributive memory implants In the hard bosom of the selfish man, Nor that ecstatic and exulting throb Which virtue's votary feels when he sums up The thoughts and actions of a well-spent day, Are unforeseen, unregistered by me : And it is yet permitted me to rend The veil of mortal frailty, that the spirit, Clothed in its changeless purity, may know How soonest to accomplish the great end For which it hath its being, and may taste That peace which in the end all life will share. This is the meed of virtue ; happy Soul, Ascend the car with me ! The chains of earth's immurement Fell from Ian the' s Spirit ; They shrank and brake like bandages of straw Beneath a wakened giant's strength.

She knew her glorious change, And felt in apprehension uncontrolled New raptures opening round : Each day-dream of her mortal life, Each frenzied vision of the slumbers That closed each well-spent day, Seemed now to meet reality. The Fairy and the Soul proceeded ; The silver clouds disparted ; And, as the car of magic they ascended, Again the speechless music swelled, Again the coursers of the air Unfurled their azure pennons, and the Queen, Shaking the beamy reins, Bade them pursue their way. The magic car moved on. The night was fair, and countless stars Studded heaven's dark-blue vault, — The eastern wave grew pale With the first smile of mom. The magic car moved on. From the celestial hoofs The atmosphere in flaming sparkles flew ; And, where the burning wheels Eddied above the mountain's loftiest peak, Was traced a line of lightning.

Now far above a rock, the utmost verge Of the wide earth, it flew — The rival of the Andes, whose dark brow Loured o'er the silver sea. Far far below the chariot's path, Calm as a slumbering babe, Tremendous Ocean lay. The mirror of its stillness showed The pale and waning stars, The chariot's fiery track, And the grey light of morn Tinging those fleecy clouds That cradled in their folds the infant dawn. The chariot seemed to fly Through the abyss of an immense concave, Radiant with million constellations, tinged With shades of infinite colour, And semicircled with a belt Flashing incessant meteors. The magic car moved on. As they approached their goal, The coursers seemed to gather speed. The sea no longer was distinguished ; earth Appeared a vast and shadowy sphere ; The sun's unclouded orb Rolled through the black concave ; Its rays of rapid light Parted around the chariot's swifter course, And fell like ocean's feathery spray Dashed from the boiling surge Before a vessel's prow.

The magic car moved on. Earth's distant orb appeared The smallest light that twinkles in the heavens ; Whilst round the chariot's way Innumerable systems rolled, And countless spheres diffused An ever-varying glory. It was a sight of wonder : some Were homed like the crescent moon ; Some shed a mild and silver beam Like Hesperus o'er the western sea ; Some dashed athwart with trains of flame, Like worlds to death and ruin driven ; Some shone like stars, and, as the chariot passed. Bedimmed all other light. Spirit of Nature ! here, In this interminable wilderness Of worlds at whose immensity Even soaring fancy staggers, Here is thy fitting temple. Yet not the lightest leaf That quivers to the passing breeze Is less instinct with thee : Yet not the meanest worm That lurks in graves and fattens on the dead Less shares thy eternal breath.

Spirit of Nature ! thou Imperishable as this glorious scene ! Here is thy fitting temple ! If solitude hath ever led thy steps To the wild ocean's echoing shore, And thou hast lingered there Until the sun's broad orb Seemed resting on the burnished wave, — Thou must have marked the braided webs of gold That without motion hang Over the sinking sphere : Thou must have marked the billowy mountain-clouds Edged with intolerable radiancy, Towering like rocks of jet Above the burning deep. And yet there is a moment — ■ When the sun's highest point Peeps like a star o'er ocean's western edge — When those far clouds of feathery purple gleam Like islands on a dark blue sea ; Then has thy fancy soared above the earth, And furled its wearied wing Within the Fairy's fane. Yet not the golden islands That gleam amid yon flood of purple light Nor the feathery curtains That canopy the sun's resplendent couch, Nor the burnished ocean-waves Paving that gorgeous dome, So fair, so wonderful a sight As Mab's etherial palace could afford.

Yet likest evening's vault, that fairy hall. As heaven low resting on the wave, it spread Its floors of flashing light, Its vast and azure dome ; And, on the verge of that obscure abyss Where crystal battlements o'erhang the gulf Of the dark world, ten thousand spheres diffuse Their lustre through its adamantine gates. The magic car no longer moved. The Fairy and the Spirit Entered the hall of spells. Those golden clouds That rolled in glittering billows Beneath the azure canopy With the etherial footsteps trembled not : The light and crimson mists Floated to strains of thrilling melody Through the vast columns and the pearly shrines. " Spirit," the Fairy said, And pointed to the gorgeous dome, " This is a wondrous sight, And mocks all human grandeur ; But, were it virtue's only meed to dwell In a celestial palace, all resigned To pleasurable impulses, immured Within the prison of itself, the will Of changeless Nature would be unfulfilled.

Leam to make others happy. Spirit, come ! This is thine high reward : — the past shall rise ; Thou shalt behold the present ; I will teach The secrets of the future. " The Fairy and the Spirit Approached the overhanging battlement. — ■ Below lay stretched the universe. There, far as the remotest line That bounds imagination's flight, Countless and unending orbs In mazy motion intermingled, Vet still fulfilled immutably Eternal Nature's law. Above, below, around, The circling systems formed A wilderness of harmony ; Each with undeviating aim, In eloquent silence, through the depths of space Pursued its wondrous way. There was a little light That twinkled in the misty distance. None but a spirit's eye Might ken that rolling orb ; None but a spirit's eye, And in no other place But that celestial dwelling, might behold Each action of this Earth's inhabitants.

But matter, space, and time, In those aerial mansions cease to act ; And all-prevailing wisdom, when it reaps The harvest of its excellence, o'erbounds Those obstacles of which an earthly soul Fears to attempt the conquest. The Fairy pointed to the earth. The Spirit's intellectual eye Its kindred beings recognized. The thronging thousands, to a passing view, Seemed like an ant-hill's citizens. How wonderful that even The passions, prejudices, interests, That sway the meanest being, the weak touch That moves the finest nerve, And in one human brain Causes the faintest thought, becomes a link In the great chain of nature ! "Behold," the Fairy cried, " Palmyra's ruined palaces ! — Behold where grandeur frowned ; Behold where pleasure smiled. What now remains ? — the memory Of senselessness and shame.

What is immortal there ? Nothing. — It stands to tell A melancholy tale, to give An awful warning : soon Oblivion will steal silently The remnant of its fame. Monarchs and conquerors there Proud o'er prostrate millions trod — The earthquakes of the human race, — Like them, forgotten when the ruin That marks their shock is past. "Beside the eternal Nile The Pyramids have risen. Nile shall pursue his changeless way ; Those Pyramids shall fall ; Yea, not a stone shall stand to tell The spot whereon they stood ; Their very site shall be forgotten, As is their builder's name. " Behold yon sterile spot, Where now the wandering Arab's tent Flaps in the desert-blast. There once old Salem's haughty fane Reared high to heaven its thousand golden domes, And in the blushing face of day Exposed its shameful glory.

Oh ! many a widow, many an orphan, cursed The building of that fane ; and many a father. Worn out with toil and slavery, implored The poor man's God to sweep it from the earth, And spare his children the detested task Of piling stone on stone, and poisoning The choicest days of life, To soothe a dotard's vanity. There an inhuman and uncultured race Howled hideous praises to their Demon-God. They rushed to war, tore from the mother's womb The unborn child, — old age and infancy Promiscuous perished ; their victorious arms Left not a soul to breathe. Oh ! theywere fiends ! But what was he who taught them that the God Of nature and benevolence had given A special sanction to the trade of blood ? His name and theirs are fading ; and the tales Of this barbarian nation, which imposture Recites till terror credits, are pursuing Itself into forgetfulness. ' ' Where Athens, Rome, and Sparta stood, There is a moral desert now.

The mean and miserable huts, The yet more wretched palaces, Contrasted with those ancient fanes Now crumbling to oblivion ; The long and lonely colonnades, Through which the ghost of Freedom stalks ; Seem like a well-known tune, Which in some dear scene we have loved to hear, Remembered now in sadness. But oh ! how much more changed, How gloomier is the contrast Of human nature there ! Where Socrates expired, a tyrant's slave, A coward and a fool, spreads death around — Then, shuddering, meets his own. Where Cicero and Antoninus lived, A cowled and hypocritical monk Prays, curses, and deceives. ' ' Spirit ! ten thousand years Have scarcely passed away Since, in the waste where now the savage drinks His enemy's blood, and, aping Europe's sons, Wakes the unholy song of war, Arose a stately city, Metropolis of the western continent.

There now the mossy column-stone, Indented by Time's unrelaxing grasp, Which once appeared to brave All save its country's ruin ; There the wide sorest scene, Rude in the uncultivated loveliness Of gardens long run wild, Seems, to the unwilling sojourner whose steps Chance in that desert has delayed, Thus to have stood since earth was what it is. Yet once it was the busiest haunt Whither, as to a common centre, flocked Strangers, and ships, and merchandize : Once peace and freedom blessed The cultivated plain. But wealth, that curse of man, Blighted the bud of its prosperity : Virtue and wisdom, truth and liberty, Fled, to return not until man shall know That they alone can give the bliss AVorthy a soul th'at claims Its kindred with eternity. "There's not one atom of yon earth But once was living man ; Nor the minutest drop of rain That hangeth in its thinnest cloud, But flowed in human veins : And from the burning plains Where Libyan monsters yell, From the most gloomy glens Of Greenland's sunless clime, To where the golden fields Of fertile England spread Their harvest to the day, Thou canst not find one spot Whereon no city stood. ' ' How strange is human pride !

I tell thee that those living things To whom the fragile blade of grass That springeth in the mom And perisheth ere noon Is an unbounded world, — I tell thee that those viewless beings Whose mansion is the smallest particle Of the impassive atmosphere, — Think, feel, and live, like man ; That their affections and antipathies, Like his, produce the laws Ruling their moral state ; And the minutest throb That through their frame diffuses The slightest, faintest motion, Is fixed and indispensable As the majestic laws That rule yon rolling orbs." The Fairy paused. The Spirit, In ecstacy of admiration, felt All knowledge of the past revived. The events Of old and wondrous times, Which dim tradition interruptedly Teaches the credulous vulgar, were unfolded In just perspective to the view, Yet dim from their infinitude.

The Spirit seemed to stand High on an isolated pinnacle ; The flood of ages combating below, The depth of the unbounded universe Above, and all around Nature's unchanging harmony. 3. "Fairy!" the Spirit said, And on the Queen of Spells Fixed her etherial eyes, " I thank thee. Thou hast given A boon which I will not resign, and taught A lesson not to be unlearned. I know The past, and thence I will essay to glean A warning for the suture, so that man May profit by his errors, and derive Experience from his folly : For, when the power of imparting joy Is equal to the will, the human soul Requires no other heaven. Fairy. Turn thee, surpassing Spirit ! Much yet remains unscanned. Thou know'st how great is man, Thou know'st his imbecility : — Yet learn thou what he is ; Yet learn the lofty destiny Which restless Time prepares F"or every living soul.

Behold a gorgeous palace that amid Yon populous city rears its thousand towers, And seems itself a city. Gloomy troops Of sentinels, in stern and silent ranks, Encompass it around. The dweller there Cannot be free and happy ; hear'st thou not The curses of the fatherless, the groans Of those who have no friend ? He passes on. The King, the wearer of a gilded chain That binds his soul to abjectness, the fool Whom courtiers nickname monarch, whilst a slave Even to the basest appetites — that man Heeds not the shriek of penury ; he smiles At the deep curses which the destitute Mutter in secret, and a sullen joy Pervades his bloodless heart when thousands groan But for those morsels which his wantonness Wastes in unjoyous revelry, to save All that they love from famine. When he hears The tale of horror, to some ready-made face Of hypocritical assent he turns, Smothering the glow of shame that, spite of him, Flushes his bloated cheek.

Now to the meal Of silence, grandeur, and excess, he drags His palled unwilling appetite. If gold Gleaming around, and numerous viands culled From every clime, could force the loathing sense To overcome satiety, — if wealth The spring it draws from poisons not, — or vice, Unfeeling stubborn vice, converteth not Its food to deadliest venom ; then that king Is happy ; and the peasant who fulfils His unforced task, when he returns at even, And by the blazing faggot meets again Her welcome for whom all his toil is sped, Tastes not a sweeter meal. Behold him now Stretched on the gorgeous couch ; his fevered brain Reels dizzily awhile : but ah ! too soon The slumber of intemperance subsides, And conscience, that undying serpent, calls Her venomous brood to their nocturnal task. Listen ! he speaks ! oh .' mark that frenzied eye— Oh ! mark that deadly visage.