Chapter LXIX: Conclusion (14)

It was not unrequited love _35 That bade my ‘wildered spirit rove; ’Twas not the pride disdaining life, That with this mortal world at strife Would yield to the soul’s inward sense, Then groan in human impotence, _40 And weep because it is not given To taste on Earth the peace of Heaven. ’Twas not that in the narrow sphere Where Nature fixed my wayward fate There was no friend or kindred dear _45 Formed to become that spirit’s mate, Which, searching on tired pinion, found Barren and cold repulse around; Oh, no! yet each one sorrow gave New graces to the narrow grave. _50 For broken vows had early quelled The stainless spirit’s vestal flame; Yes! whilst the faithful bosom swelled, Then the envenomed arrow came, And Apathy’s unaltering eye _55 Beamed coldness on the misery; And early I had learned to scorn The chains of clay that bound a soul Panting to seize the wings of morn, And where its vital fires were born _60 To soar, and spur the cold control Which the vile slaves of earthly night Would twine around its struggling flight.

Oh, many were the friends whom fame Had linked with the unmeaning name, _65 Whose magic marked among mankind The casket of my unknown mind, Which hidden from the vulgar glare Imbibed no fleeting radiance there. My darksome spirit sought—it found _70 A friendless solitude around. For who that might undaunted stand, The saviour of a sinking land, Would crawl, its ruthless tyrant’s slave, And fatten upon Freedom’s grave, _75 Though doomed with her to perish, where The captive clasps abhorred despair.

They could not share the bosom’s feeling, Which, passion’s every throb revealing, Dared force on the world’s notice cold _80 Thoughts of unprofitable mould, Who bask in Custom’s fickle ray, Fit sunshine of such wintry day! They could not in a twilight walk Weave an impassioned web of talk, _85 Till mysteries the spirits press In wild yet tender awfulness, Then feel within our narrow sphere How little yet how great we are! But they might shine in courtly glare, _90 Attract the rabble’s cheapest stare, And might command where’er they move A thing that bears the name of love; They might be learned, witty, gay, Foremost in fashion’s gilt array, _95 On Fame’s emblazoned pages shine, Be princes’ friends, but never mine!

Ye jagged peaks that frown sublime, Mocking the blunted scythe of Time, Whence I would watch its lustre pale _100 Steal from the moon o’er yonder vale Thou rock, whose bosom black and vast, Bared to the stream’s unceasing flow, Ever its giant shade doth cast On the tumultuous surge below: _105

Woods, to whose depths retires to die The wounded Echo’s melody, And whither this lone spirit bent The footstep of a wild intent:

Meadows! whose green and spangled breast _110 These fevered limbs have often pressed, Until the watchful fiend Despair Slept in the soothing coolness there! Have not your varied beauties seen The sunken eye, the withering mien, _115 Sad traces of the unuttered pain That froze my heart and burned my brain. How changed since Nature’s summer form Had last the power my grief to charm, Since last ye soothed my spirit’s sadness, _120 Strange chaos of a mingled madness! Changed!—not the loathsome worm that fed In the dark mansions of the dead, Now soaring through the fields of air, And gathering purest nectar there, _125 A butterfly, whose million hues The dazzled eye of wonder views, Long lingering on a work so strange, Has undergone so bright a change. How do I feel my happiness? _130 I cannot tell, but they may guess Whose every gloomy feeling gone, Friendship and passion feel alone; Who see mortality’s dull clouds Before affection’s murmur fly, _135 Whilst the mild glances of her eye Pierce the thin veil of flesh that shrouds The spirit’s inmost sanctuary. O thou! whose virtues latest known, First in this heart yet claim’st a throne; _140 Whose downy sceptre still shall share The gentle sway with virtue there; Thou fair in form, and pure in mind, Whose ardent friendship rivets fast The flowery band our fates that bind, _145 Which incorruptible shall last When duty’s hard and cold control Has thawed around the burning soul,— The gloomiest retrospects that bind With crowns of thorn the bleeding mind, _150 The prospects of most doubtful hue That rise on Fancy’s shuddering view,— Are gilt by the reviving ray Which thou hast flung upon my day.

***

FRAGMENT OF A SONNET.

TO HARRIET.

[Published from the Esdaile manuscript book by Dowden, “Life of Shelley”, 1887; dated August 1, 1812.]

Ever as now with Love and Virtue’s glow May thy unwithering soul not cease to burn, Still may thine heart with those pure thoughts o’erflow Which force from mine such quick and warm return.

***

TO HARRIET.

[Published, 5-13, by Forman, “Poetical Works of P. B. S.”, 1876; 58-69, by Shelley, “Notes to Queen Mab”, 1813; and entire (from the Esdaile manuscript book) by Dowden, “Life of Shelley”, 1887; dated 1812.]

It is not blasphemy to hope that Heaven More perfectly will give those nameless joys Which throb within the pulses of the blood And sweeten all that bitterness which Earth Infuses in the heaven-born soul. O thou _5 Whose dear love gleamed upon the gloomy path Which this lone spirit travelled, drear and cold, Yet swiftly leading to those awful limits Which mark the bounds of Time and of the space When Time shall be no more; wilt thou not turn _10 Those spirit-beaming eyes and look on me, Until I be assured that Earth is Heaven, And Heaven is Earth?—will not thy glowing cheek, Glowing with soft suffusion, rest on mine, And breathe magnetic sweetness through the frame _15 Of my corporeal nature, through the soul Now knit with these fine fibres? I would give The longest and the happiest day that fate Has marked on my existence but to feel ONE soul-reviving kiss...O thou most dear, _20 ’Tis an assurance that this Earth is Heaven, And Heaven the flower of that untainted seed Which springeth here beneath such love as ours. Harriet! let death all mortal ties dissolve, But ours shall not be mortal! The cold hand _25 Of Time may chill the love of earthly minds Half frozen now; the frigid intercourse Of common souls lives but a summer’s day; It dies, where it arose, upon this earth. But ours! oh, ’tis the stretch of Fancy’s hope _30 To portray its continuance as now, Warm, tranquil, spirit-healing; nor when age Has tempered these wild ecstasies, and given A soberer tinge to the luxurious glow Which blazing on devotion’s pinnacle _35 Makes virtuous passion supersede the power Of reason; nor when life’s aestival sun To deeper manhood shall have ripened me; Nor when some years have added judgement’s store To all thy woman sweetness, all the fire _40 Which throbs in thine enthusiast heart; not then Shall holy friendship (for what other name May love like ours assume?), not even then Shall Custom so corrupt, or the cold forms Of this desolate world so harden us, _45 As when we think of the dear love that binds Our souls in soft communion, while we know Each other’s thoughts and feelings, can we say Unblushingly a heartless compliment, Praise, hate, or love with the unthinking world, _50 Or dare to cut the unrelaxing nerve That knits our love to virtue. Can those eyes, Beaming with mildest radiance on my heart To purify its purity, e’er bend To soothe its vice or consecrate its fears? _55 Never, thou second Self! Is confidence So vain in virtue that I learn to doubt The mirror even of Truth? Dark flood of Time, Roll as it listeth thee; I measure not By month or moments thy ambiguous course. _60 Another may stand by me on thy brink,, And watch the bubble whirled beyond his ken, Which pauses at my feet. The sense of love, The thirst for action, and the impassioned thought Prolong my being; if I wake no more, _65 My life more actual living will contain Than some gray veteran’s of the world’s cold school, Whose listless hours unprofitably roll By one enthusiast feeling unredeemed, Virtue and Love! unbending Fortitude, _70 Freedom, Devotedness and Purity! That life my Spirit consecrates to you.

***

SONNET.

TO A BALLOON LADEN WITH KNOWLEDGE.

[Published from the Esdaile manuscript book by Dowden, “Life of Shelley”, 1887; dated August, 1812.]

Bright ball of flame that through the gloom of even Silently takest thine aethereal way, And with surpassing glory dimm’st each ray Twinkling amid the dark blue depths of Heaven,— Unlike the fire thou bearest, soon shalt thou _5 Fade like a meteor in surrounding gloom, Whilst that, unquenchable, is doomed to glow A watch-light by the patriot’s lonely tomb; A ray of courage to the oppressed and poor; A spark, though gleaming on the hovel’s hearth, _10 Which through the tyrant’s gilded domes shall roar; A beacon in the darkness of the Earth; A sun which, o’er the renovated scene, Shall dart like Truth where Falsehood yet has been.

***

SONNET.

ON LAUNCHING SOME BOTTLES FILLED WITH KNOWLEDGE INTO THE BRISTOL CHANNEL.

[Published from the Esdaile manuscript book by Dowden, “Life of Shelley”, 1887; dated August, 1812.]

Vessels of heavenly medicine! may the breeze Auspicious waft your dark green forms to shore; Safe may ye stem the wide surrounding roar Of the wild whirlwinds and the raging seas; And oh! if Liberty e’er deigned to stoop _5 From yonder lowly throne her crownless brow, Sure she will breathe around your emerald group The fairest breezes of her West that blow. Yes! she will waft ye to some freeborn soul Whose eye-beam, kindling as it meets your freight, _10 Her heaven-born flame in suffering Earth will light, Until its radiance gleams from pole to pole, And tyrant-hearts with powerless envy burst To see their night of ignorance dispersed.

***

THE DEVIL’S WALK.

A BALLAD.

[Published as a broadside by Shelley, 1812.]

1. Once, early in the morning, Beelzebub arose, With care his sweet person adorning, He put on his Sunday clothes.

2. He drew on a boot to hide his hoof, _5 He drew on a glove to hide his claw, His horns were concealed by a Bras Chapeau, And the Devil went forth as natty a Beau As Bond-street ever saw.

3. He sate him down, in London town, _10 Before earth’s morning ray; With a favourite imp he began to chat, On religion, and scandal, this and that, Until the dawn of day.

4. And then to St. James’s Court he went, _15 And St. Paul’s Church he took on his way; He was mighty thick with every Saint, Though they were formal and he was gay.

5. The Devil was an agriculturist, And as bad weeds quickly grow, _20 In looking over his farm, I wist, He wouldn’t find cause for woe.

6. He peeped in each hole, to each chamber stole, His promising live-stock to view; Grinning applause, he just showed them his claws, _25 And they shrunk with affright from his ugly sight, Whose work they delighted to do.

7. Satan poked his red nose into crannies so small One would think that the innocents fair, Poor lambkins! were just doing nothing at all _30 But settling some dress or arranging some ball, But the Devil saw deeper there.

8. A Priest, at whose elbow the Devil during prayer Sate familiarly, side by side, Declared that, if the Tempter were there, _35 His presence he would not abide. Ah! ah! thought Old Nick, that’s a very stale trick, For without the Devil, O favourite of Evil, In your carriage you would not ride.

9. Satan next saw a brainless King, _40 Whose house was as hot as his own; Many Imps in attendance were there on the wing, They flapped the pennon and twisted the sting, Close by the very Throne.

10. Ah! ah! thought Satan, the pasture is good, _45 My Cattle will here thrive better than others; They dine on news of human blood, They sup on the groans of the dying and dead, And supperless never will go to bed; Which will make them fat as their brothers. _50

11. Fat as the Fiends that feed on blood, Fresh and warm from the fields of Spain, Where Ruin ploughs her gory way, Where the shoots of earth are nipped in the bud, Where Hell is the Victor’s prey, _55 Its glory the meed of the slain.

12. Fat—as the Death-birds on Erin’s shore, That glutted themselves in her dearest gore, And flitted round Castlereagh, When they snatched the Patriot’s heart, that HIS grasp _60 Had torn from its widow’s maniac clasp, —And fled at the dawn of day.

13. Fat—as the Reptiles of the tomb, That riot in corruption’s spoil, That fret their little hour in gloom, _65 And creep, and live the while.

14. Fat as that Prince’s maudlin brain, Which, addled by some gilded toy, Tired, gives his sweetmeat, and again Cries for it, like a humoured boy. _70

15. For he is fat,—his waistcoat gay, When strained upon a levee day, Scarce meets across his princely paunch; And pantaloons are like half-moons Upon each brawny haunch. _75

16. How vast his stock of calf! when plenty Had filled his empty head and heart, Enough to satiate foplings twenty, Could make his pantaloon seams start.

17. The Devil (who sometimes is called Nature), _80 For men of power provides thus well, Whilst every change and every feature, Their great original can tell.

18. Satan saw a lawyer a viper slay, That crawled up the leg of his table, _85 It reminded him most marvellously Of the story of Cain and Abel.

19. The wealthy yeoman, as he wanders His fertile fields among, And on his thriving cattle ponders, _90 Counts his sure gains, and hums a song; Thus did the Devil, through earth walking, Hum low a hellish song.

20. For they thrive well whose garb of gore Is Satan’s choicest livery, _95 And they thrive well who from the poor Have snatched the bread of penury, And heap the houseless wanderer’s store On the rank pile of luxury.

21. The Bishops thrive, though they are big; _100 The Lawyers thrive, though they are thin; For every gown, and every wig, Hides the safe thrift of Hell within.

22. Thus pigs were never counted clean, Although they dine on finest corn; _105 And cormorants are sin-like lean, Although they eat from night to morn.

23. Oh! why is the Father of Hell in such glee, As he grins from ear to ear? Why does he doff his clothes joyfully, _110 As he skips, and prances, and flaps his wing, As he sidles, leers, and twirls his sting, And dares, as he is, to appear?

24. A statesman passed—alone to him, The Devil dare his whole shape uncover, _115 To show each feature, every limb, Secure of an unchanging lover.

25. At this known sign, a welcome sight, The watchful demons sought their King, And every Fiend of the Stygian night, _120 Was in an instant on the wing.

26. Pale Loyalty, his guilt-steeled brow, With wreaths of gory laurel crowned: The hell-hounds, Murder, Want and Woe, Forever hungering, flocked around; _125 From Spain had Satan sought their food, ’Twas human woe and human blood!

27. Hark! the earthquake’s crash I hear,— Kings turn pale, and Conquerors start, Ruffians tremble in their fear, _130 For their Satan doth depart.

28. This day Fiends give to revelry To celebrate their King’s return, And with delight its Sire to see Hell’s adamantine limits burn. _135

29. But were the Devil’s sight as keen As Reason’s penetrating eye, His sulphurous Majesty I ween, Would find but little cause for joy.

30. For the sons of Reason see _140 That, ere fate consume the Pole, The false Tyrant’s cheek shall be Bloodless as his coward soul.

NOTE: _55 Where cj. Rossetti; When 1812.

***

FRAGMENT OF A SONNET.

FAREWELL TO NORTH DEVON.

[Published (from the Esdaile manuscript book) by Dowden, “Life of Shelley”, 1887; dated August, 1812.]

Where man’s profane and tainting hand Nature’s primaeval loveliness has marred, And some few souls of the high bliss debarred Which else obey her powerful command; ...mountain piles _5 That load in grandeur Cambria’s emerald vales.

***

ON LEAVING LONDON FOR WALES.

[Published (from the Esdaile manuscript book) by Dowden, “Life of Shelley”, 1887; dated November, 1812.]

Hail to thee, Cambria! for the unfettered wind Which from thy wilds even now methinks I feel, Chasing the clouds that roll in wrath behind, And tightening the soul’s laxest nerves to steel; True mountain Liberty alone may heal _5 The pain which Custom’s obduracies bring, And he who dares in fancy even to steal One draught from Snowdon’s ever sacred spring Blots out the unholiest rede of worldly witnessing.

And shall that soul, to selfish peace resigned, _10 So soon forget the woe its fellows share? Can Snowdon’s Lethe from the free-born mind So soon the page of injured penury tear? Does this fine mass of human passion dare To sleep, unhonouring the patriot’s fall, _15 Or life’s sweet load in quietude to bear While millions famish even in Luxury’s hall, And Tyranny, high raised, stern lowers on all?

No, Cambria! never may thy matchless vales A heart so false to hope and virtue shield; _20 Nor ever may thy spirit-breathing gales Waft freshness to the slaves who dare to yield. For me!...the weapon that I burn to wield I seek amid thy rocks to ruin hurled, That Reason’s flag may over Freedom’s field, _25 Symbol of bloodless victory, wave unfurled, A meteor-sign of love effulgent o’er the world.

...

Do thou, wild Cambria, calm each struggling thought; Cast thy sweet veil of rocks and woods between, That by the soul to indignation wrought _30 Mountains and dells be mingled with the scene; Let me forever be what I have been, But not forever at my needy door Let Misery linger speechless, pale and lean; I am the friend of the unfriended poor,— _35 Let me not madly stain their righteous cause in gore.

***

THE WANDERING JEW’S SOLILOQUY.

[Published (from the Esdaile manuscript book) by Bertram Dobell, 1887.]

Is it the Eternal Triune, is it He Who dares arrest the wheels of destiny And plunge me in the lowest Hell of Hells? Will not the lightning’s blast destroy my frame? Will not steel drink the blood-life where it swells? _5 No—let me hie where dark Destruction dwells, To rouse her from her deeply caverned lair, And, taunting her cursed sluggishness to ire, Light long Oblivion’s death-torch at its flame And calmly mount Annihilation’s pyre. _10 Tyrant of Earth! pale Misery’s jackal Thou! Are there no stores of vengeful violent fate Within the magazines of Thy fierce hate? No poison in the clouds to bathe a brow That lowers on Thee with desperate contempt? _15 Where is the noonday Pestilence that slew The myriad sons of Israel’s favoured nation? Where the destroying Minister that flew Pouring the fiery tide of desolation Upon the leagued Assyrian’s attempt? _20 Where the dark Earthquake-daemon who engorged At the dread word Korah’s unconscious crew? Or the Angel’s two-edged sword of fire that urged Our primal parents from their bower of bliss (Reared by Thine hand) for errors not their own _25 By Thine omniscient mind foredoomed, foreknown? Yes! I would court a ruin such as this, Almighty Tyrant! and give thanks to Thee— Drink deeply—drain the cup of hate; remit this—I may die.

***

EVENING.

TO HARRIET.

[Published by Dowden, “Life of Shelley”, 1887. Composed July 31, 1813.]

O thou bright Sun! beneath the dark blue line Of western distance that sublime descendest, And, gleaming lovelier as thy beams decline, Thy million hues to every vapour lendest, And, over cobweb lawn and grove and stream _5 Sheddest the liquid magic of thy light, Till calm Earth, with the parting splendour bright, Shows like the vision of a beauteous dream; What gazer now with astronomic eye Could coldly count the spots within thy sphere? _10 Such were thy lover, Harriet, could he fly The thoughts of all that makes his passion dear, And, turning senseless from thy warm caress,— Pick flaws in our close-woven happiness.

***

TO IANTHE.

[Published by Dowden, “Life of Shelley”, 1887. Composed September, 1813.]

I love thee, Baby! for thine own sweet sake; Those azure eyes, that faintly dimpled cheek, Thy tender frame, so eloquently weak, Love in the sternest heart of hate might wake; But more when o’er thy fitful slumber bending _5 Thy mother folds thee to her wakeful heart, Whilst love and pity, in her glances blending, All that thy passive eyes can feel impart: More, when some feeble lineaments of her, Who bore thy weight beneath her spotless bosom, _10 As with deep love I read thy face, recur,— More dear art thou, O fair and fragile blossom; Dearest when most thy tender traits express The image of thy mother’s loveliness.

***

SONG FROM THE WANDERING JEW.

[Published as Shelley’s by Medwin, “Life of Shelley”, 1847, 1 page 58.]

See yon opening flower Spreads its fragrance to the blast; It fades within an hour, Its decay is pale—is fast. Paler is yon maiden; _5 Faster is her heart’s decay; Deep with sorrow laden, She sinks in death away.

***

FRAGMENT FROM THE WANDERING JEW.

[Published as Shelley’s by Medwin, “Life of Shelley”, 1847, 1 page 56.]

The Elements respect their Maker’s seal! Still Like the scathed pine tree’s height, Braving the tempests of the night Have I ‘scaped the flickering flame. Like the scathed pine, which a monument stands _5 Of faded grandeur, which the brands Of the tempest-shaken air Have riven on the desolate heath; Yet it stands majestic even in death, And rears its wild form there. _10,

***

TO THE QUEEN OF MY HEART.

[Published as Shelley’s by Medwin, “The Shelley Papers”, 1833, and by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 1st edition; afterwards suppressed as of doubtful authenticity.]

1. Shall we roam, my love, To the twilight grove, When the moon is rising bright; Oh, I’ll whisper there, In the cool night-air, _5 What I dare not in broad daylight!

2. I’ll tell thee a part Of the thoughts that start To being when thou art nigh; And thy beauty, more bright _10 Than the stars’ soft light, Shall seem as a weft from the sky.

3. When the pale moonbeam On tower and stream Sheds a flood of silver sheen, _15 How I love to gaze As the cold ray strays O’er thy face, my heart’s throned queen!

4. Wilt thou roam with me To the restless sea, _20 And linger upon the steep, And list to the flow Of the waves below How they toss and roar and leap?

5. Those boiling waves, _25 And the storm that raves At night o’er their foaming crest, Resemble the strife That, from earliest life, The passions have waged in my breast. _30

6. Oh, come then, and rove To the sea or the grove, When the moon is rising bright; And I’ll whisper there, In the cool night-air, _35 What I dare not in broad daylight.

***

NOTES ON THE TEXT AND ITS PUNCTUATION.

In the case of every poem published during Shelley’s lifetime, the text of this edition is based upon that of the editio princeps or earliest issue. Wherever our text deviates verbally from this exemplar, the word or words of the editio princeps will be found recorded in a footnote. In like manner, wherever the text of the poems first printed by Mrs. Shelley in the “Posthumous Poems” of 1824 or the “Poetical Works” of 1839 is modified by manuscript authority or otherwise, the reading of the earliest printed text has been subjoined in a footnote. Shelley’s punctuation—or what may be presumed to be his—has been retained, save in the case of errors (whether of the transcriber or the printer) overlooked in the revision of the proof-sheets, and of a few places where the pointing, though certainly or seemingly Shelley’s, tends to obscure the sense or grammatical construction. In the following notes the more important textual difficulties are briefly discussed, and the readings embodied in the text of this edition, it is hoped, sufficiently justified. An attempt has also been made to record the original punctuation where it is here departed from.

1. THE DAEMON OF THE WORLD: PART 1.

The following paragraph, relating to this poem, closes Shelley’s “Preface” to “Alastor”, etc., 1816:—‘The Fragment entitled “The Daemon of the World” is a detached part of a poem which the author does not intend for publication. The metre in which it is composed is that of “Samson Agonistes” and the Italian pastoral drama, and may be considered as the natural measure into which poetical conceptions, expressed in harmonious language, necessarily fall.’

2. Lines 56, 112, 184, 288. The editor has added a comma at the end of these lines, and a period (for the comma of 1816) after by, line 279.

3. Lines 167, 168. The editio princeps has a comma after And, line 167, and heaven, line 168.

1. THE DAEMON OF THE WORLD: PART 2.

Printed by Mr. Forman from a copy in his possession of “Queen Mab”, corrected by Shelley’s hand. See “The Shelley Library”, pages 36-44, for a detailed history and description of this copy.

2. Lines 436-438. Mr. Forman prints:— Which from the exhaustless lore of human weal Draws on the virtuous mind, the thoughts that rise In time-destroying infiniteness, gift, etc. Our text exhibits both variants—lore for ‘store,’ and Dawns for ‘Draws’—found in Shelley’s note on the corresponding passage of “Queen Mab” (8 204-206). See editor’s note on this passage. Shelley’s comma after infiniteness, line 438, is omitted as tending to obscure the construction.

1. ALASTOR; OR THE SPIRIT OF SOLITUDE.

“Preface”. For the concluding paragraph see editor’s note on “The Daemon of the World”: Part 1.

2. Conducts, O Sleep, to thy, etc. (line 219.) The Shelley texts, 1816, 1824, 1839, have Conduct here, which Forman and Dowden retain. The suggestion that Shelley may have written ‘death’s blue vaults’ (line 216) need not, in the face of ‘the dark gate of death’ (line 211), be seriously considered; Conduct must, therefore, be regarded as a fault in grammar. That Shelley actually wrote Conduct is not impossible, for his grammar is not seldom faulty (see, for instance, “Revolt of Islam, Dedication”, line 60); but it is most improbable that he would have committed a solecism so striking both to eye and ear. Rossetti and Woodberry print Conducts, etc. The final s is often a vanishing quantity in Shelley’s manuscripts. Or perhaps the compositor’s hand was misled by his eye, which may have dropped on the words, Conduct to thy, etc., seven lines above.

3. Of wave ruining on wave, etc. (line 327.) For ruining the text of “Poetical Works”, 1839, both editions, has running—an overlooked misprint, surely, rather than a conjectural emendation. For an example of ruining as an intransitive (= ‘falling in ruins,’ or, simply, ‘falling in streams’) see “Paradise Lost”, 6 867-869:— Hell heard th’ insufferable noise, Hell saw Heav’n ruining from Heav’n, and would have fled Affrighted, etc. Ruining, in the sense of ‘streaming,’ ‘trailing,’ occurs in Coleridge’s “Melancholy: a Fragment” (Sibylline Leaves, 1817, page 262):— Where ruining ivies propped the ruins steep— “Melancholy” first appeared in “The Morning Post”, December 7, 1797, where, through an error identical with that here assumed in the text of 1839, running appears in place of ruining—the word intended, and doubtless written, by Coleridge.

4. Line 349. With Mr. Stopford Brooke, the editor substitutes here a colon for the full stop which, in editions 1816, 1824, and 1839, follows ocean. Forman and Dowden retain the full stop; Rossetti and Woodberry substitute a semicolon.

5. And nought but gnarled roots of ancient pines Branchless and blasted, clenched with grasping roots The unwilling soil. (lines 530-532.) Editions 1816, 1824, and 1839 have roots (line 530)—a palpable misprint, the probable origin of which may be seen in the line which follows. Rossetti conjectures trunks, but stumps or stems may have been Shelley’s word.

6. Lines 543-548. This somewhat involved passage is here reprinted exactly as it stands in the editio princeps, save for the comma after and, line 546, first introduced by Dowden, 1890. The construction and meaning are fully discussed by Forman (“Poetical Works” of Shelley, edition 1876, volume 1 pages 39, 40), Stopford Brooke (“Poems of Shelley”, G. T. S., 1880, page 323), Dobell (“Alastor”, etc., Facsimile Reprint, 2nd edition 1887, pages 22-27), and Woodberry (“Complete P. W. of Shelley”, 1893, volume 1 page 413).

1. THE REVOLT OF ISLAM.

The revised text (1818) of this poem is given here, as being that which Shelley actually published. In order to reconvert the text of “The Revolt of Islam” into that of “Laon and Cythna”, the reader must make the following alterations in the text. At the end of the “Preface” add:—

‘In the personal conduct of my Hero and Heroine, there is one circumstance which was intended to startle the reader from the trance of ordinary life. It was my object to break through the crust of those outworn opinions on which established institutions depend. I have appealed therefore to the most universal of all feelings, and have endeavoured to strengthen the moral sense, by forbidding it to waste its energies in seeking to avoid actions which are only crimes of convention. It is because there is so great a multitude of artificial vices that there are so few real virtues. Those feelings alone which are benevolent or malevolent, are essentially good or bad. The circumstance of which I speak was introduced, however, merely to accustom men to that charity and toleration which the exhibition of a practice widely differing from their own has a tendency to promote. (The sentiments connected with and characteristic of this circumstance have no personal reference to the Writer.—[Shelley’s Note.]) Nothing indeed can be more mischievous than many actions, innocent in themselves, which might bring down upon individuals the bigoted contempt and rage of the multitude.’

2 21 1: I had a little sister whose fair eyes

2 25 2: To love in human life, this sister sweet,

3 1 1: What thoughts had sway over my sister’s slumber

3 1 3: As if they did ten thousand years outnumber

4 30 6: And left it vacant—’twas her brother’s face—

5 47 5: I had a brother once, but he is dead!—

6 24 8: My own sweet sister looked), with joy did quail,

6 31 6: The common blood which ran within our frames,

6 39 6-9: With such close sympathies, for to each other Had high and solemn hopes, the gentle might Of earliest love, and all the thoughts which smother Cold Evil’s power, now linked a sister and a brother.

6 40 1: And such is Nature’s modesty, that those

8 4 9: Dream ye that God thus builds for man in solitude?

8 5 1: What then is God? Ye mock yourselves and give

8 6 1: What then is God? Some moonstruck sophist stood

8 6 8, 9: And that men say God has appointed Death On all who scorn his will to wreak immortal wrath.

8 7 1-4: Men say they have seen God, and heard from God, Or known from others who have known such things, And that his will is all our law, a rod To scourge us into slaves—that Priests and Kings

8 8 1: And it is said, that God will punish wrong;

8 8 3, 4: And his red hell’s undying snakes among Will bind the wretch on whom he fixed a stain

8 13 3, 4: For it is said God rules both high and low, And man is made the captive of his brother;

9 13 8: To curse the rebels. To their God did they

9 14 6: By God, and Nature, and Necessity.

9 15. The stanza contains ten lines—lines 4-7 as follows: There was one teacher, and must ever be, They said, even God, who, the necessity Of rule and wrong had armed against mankind, His slave and his avenger there to be;

9 18 3-6: And Hell and Awe, which in the heart of man Is God itself; the Priests its downfall knew, As day by day their altars lovelier grew, Till they were left alone within the fane;

10 22 9: On fire! Almighty God his hell on earth has spread!

10 26 7, 8: Of their Almighty God, the armies wind In sad procession: each among the train

10 28 1: O God Almighty! thou alone hast power.

10 31 1: And Oromaze, and Christ, and Mahomet,

10 32 1: He was a Christian Priest from whom it came

10 32 4: To quell the rebel Atheists; a dire guest

10 32 9: To wreak his fear of God in vengeance on mankind

10 34 5, 6: His cradled Idol, and the sacrifice Of God to God’s own wrath—that Islam’s creed

10 35 9: And thrones, which rest on faith in God, nigh overturned.

10 39 4: Of God may be appeased. He ceased, and they

10 40 5: With storms and shadows girt, sate God, alone,

10 44 9: As ‘hush! hark! Come they yet? God, God, thine hour is near!’

10 45 8: Men brought their atheist kindred to appease

10 47 6: The threshold of God’s throne, and it was she!

11 16 1: Ye turn to God for aid in your distress;

11 25 7: Swear by your dreadful God.’—‘We swear, we swear!’

12 10 9: Truly for self, thus thought that Christian Priest indeed,

12 11 9: A woman? God has sent his other victim here.

12 12 6-8: Will I stand up before God’s golden throne, And cry, ‘O Lord, to thee did I betray An Atheist; but for me she would have known

12 29 4: In torment and in fire have Atheists gone;

12 30 4: How Atheists and Republicans can die;

2. Aught but a lifeless clod, until revived by thee (Dedic. 6 9).

So Rossetti; the Shelley editions, 1818 and 1839, read clog, which is retained by Forman, Dowden, and Woodberry. Rossetti’s happy conjecture, clod, seems to Forman ‘a doubtful emendation, as Shelley may have used clog in its [figurative] sense of weight, encumbrance.’—Hardly, as here, in a poetical figure: that would be to use a metaphor within a metaphor. Shelley compares his heart to a concrete object: if clog is right, the word must be taken in one or other of its two recognized LITERAL senses—‘a wooden shoe,’ or ‘a block of wood tied round the neck or to the leg of a horse or a dog.’ Again, it is of others’ hearts, not of his own, that Shelley here deplores the icy coldness and weight; besides, how could he appropriately describe his heart as a weight or encumbrance upon the free play of impulse and emotion, seeing that for Shelley, above all men, the heart was itself the main source and spring of all feeling and action? That source, he complains, has been dried up—its emotions desiccated—by the crushing impact of other hearts, heavy, hard and cold as stone. His heart has become withered and barren, like a lump of earth parched with frost—‘a lifeless clod.’ Compare “Summer and Winter”, lines 11-15:— ‘It was a winter such as when birds die In the deep forests; and the fishes lie Stiffened in the translucent ice, which makes Even the mud and slime of the warm lakes A wrinkled clod as hard as brick;’ etc., etc.

The word revived suits well with clod; but what is a revived clog? Finally, the first two lines of the following stanza (7) seem decisive in favour of Roseetti’s word.

If any one wonders how a misprint overlooked in 1818 could, after twenty-one years, still remain undiscovered in 1839, let him consider the case of clog in Lamb’s parody on Southey’s and Coleridge’s “Dactyls” (Lamb, “Letter to Coleridge”, July 1, 1796):— Sorely your Dactyls do drag along limp-footed; Sad is the measure that hangs a clog round ’em so, etc., etc.

Here the misprint, clod, which in 1868 appeared in Moxon’s edition of the “Letters of Charles Lamb”, has through five successive editions and under many editors—including Fitzgerald, Ainger, and Macdonald—held its ground even to the present day; and this, notwithstanding the preservation of the true reading, clog, in the texts of Talfourd and Carew Hazlitt. Here then is the case of a palpable misprint surviving, despite positive external evidence of its falsity, over a period of thirty-six years.

3. And walked as free, etc. (Ded. 7 6).

Walked is one of Shelley’s occasional grammatical laxities. Forman well observes that walkedst, the right word here, would naturally seem to Shelley more heinous than a breach of syntactic rule. Rossetti and, after him, Dowden print walk. Forman and Woodberry follow the early texts.

4. 1 9 1-7. Here the text follows the punctuation of the editio princeps, 1818, with two exceptions: a comma is inserted (1) after scale (line 201), on the authority of the Bodleian manuscript (Locock); and (2) after neck (line 205), to indicate the true construction. Mrs. Shelley’s text, 1839, has a semicolon after plumes (line 203), which Rossetti adopts. Forman (1892) departs from the pointing of Shelley’s edition here, placing a period at the close of line 199, and a dash after blended (line 200).

5. What life, what power, was, etc. (1 11 1.) The editio princeps, 1818, wants the commas here.

6. ...and now We are embarked—the mountains hang and frown Over the starry deep that gleams below, A vast and dim expanse, as o’er the waves we go. (1 23 6-9.) With Woodberry I substitute after embarked (7) a dash for the comma of the editio princeps; with Rossetti I restore to below (8) a comma which I believe to have been overlooked by the printer of that edition. Shelley’s meaning I take to be that ‘a vast and dim expanse of mountain hangs frowning over the starry deep that gleams below it as we pass over the waves.’

7. As King, and Lord, and God, the conquering Fiend did own,—(1 28 9.) So Forman (1892), Dowden; the editio princeps, has a full stop at the close of the line,—where, according to Mr. Locock, no point appears in the Bodleian manuscript.

8. Black-winged demon forms, etc. (1 30 7.) The Bodleian manuscript exhibits the requisite hyphen here, and in golden-pinioned (32 2).

9. 1 31 2, 6. The ‘three-dots’ point, employed by Shelley to indicate a pause longer than that of a full stop, is introduced into these two lines on the authority of the Bodleian manuscript. In both cases it replaces a dash in the editio princeps. See list of punctual variations below. Mr. Locock reports the presence in the manuscript of what he justly terms a ‘characteristic’ comma after Soon (31 2).

10. ...mine shook beneath the wide emotion. (1 38 9.) For emotion the Bodleian manuscript has commotion (Locock)—perhaps the fitter word here.

11. Deep slumber fell on me:—my dreams were fire— (1 40 1.) The dash after fire is from the Bodleian manuscript,—where, moreover, the somewhat misleading but indubitably Shelleyan comma after passion (editio princeps, 40 4) is wanting (Locock). I have added a dash to the comma after cover (40 5) in order to clarify the sense.

12. And shared in fearless deeds with evil men, (1 44 4.) With Forman and Dowden I substitute here a comma for the full stop of the editio princeps. See also list of punctual variations below (stanza 44).

13. The Spirit whom I loved, in solitude Sustained his child: (1 45 4, 5.) The comma here, important as marking the sense as well as the rhythm of the passage, is derived from the Bodleian manuscript (Locock).

14. I looked, and we were sailing pleasantly, Swift as a cloud between the sea and sky; Beneath the rising moon seen far away, Mountains of ice, etc. (1 47 4-7.) The editio princeps has a comma after sky (5) and a semicolon after away (6)—a pointing followed by Forman, Dowden, and Woodberry. By transposing these points (as in our text), however, a much better sense is obtained; and, luckily, this better sense proves to be that yielded by the Bodleian manuscript, where, Mr. Locock reports, there is a semicolon after sky (5), a comma after moon (6), and no point whatsoever after away (6).

15. Girt by the deserts of the Universe; (1 50 4.) So the Bodleian manuscript, anticipated by Woodberry (1893). Rossetti (1870) had substituted a comma for the period of editio princeps.

16. Hymns which my soul had woven to Freedom, strong The source of passion, whence they rose, to be; Triumphant strains, which, etc. (2 28 6-8.) The editio princeps, followed by Forman, has passion whence (7). Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works” 1839, both editions, prints: strong The source of passion, whence they rose to be Triumphant strains, which, etc.

17. But, pale, were calm with passion—thus subdued, etc. (2 49 6.) With Rossetti, Dowden, Woodberry, I add a comma after But to the pointing of the editio princeps. Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, both editions, prints: But pale, were calm.—With passion thus subdued, etc.

18. Methought that grate was lifted, etc. (3 25 1.) Shelley’s and Mrs. Shelley’s editions have gate, which is retained by Forman. But cf. 3 14 2, 7. Dowden and Woodberry follow Rossetti in printing grate.

19. Where her own standard, etc. (4 24 5.) So Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, both editions.

20. Beneath whose spires, which swayed in the red flame, (5 54 6.) Shelley’s and Mrs. Shelley’s editions (1818, 1839) give red light here,—an oversight perpetuated by Forman, the rhyme-words name (8) and frame (9) notwithstanding. With Rossetti, Dowden, Woodberry, I print red flame,—an obvious emendation proposed by Fleay.

21. —when the waves smile, As sudden earthquakes light many a volcano-isle, Thus sudden, unexpected feast was spread, etc. (6 7 8, 9; 8 1.) With Forman, Dowden, Woodberry, I substitute after isle (7 9) a comma for the full stop of editions 1818, 1839 (retained by Rossetti). The passage is obscure: perhaps Shelley wrote ‘lift many a volcano-isle.’ The plain becomes studded in an instant with piles of corpses, even as the smiling surface of the sea will sometimes become studded in an instant with many islands uplifted by a sudden shock of earthquake.

22. 7 7 2-6. The editio princeps punctuates thus:— and words it gave Gestures and looks, such as in whirlwinds bore Which might not be withstood, whence none could save All who approached their sphere, like some calm wave Vexed into whirlpools by the chasms beneath; This punctuation is retained by Forman; Rossetti, Dowden, Woodberry, place a comma after gave (2) and Gestures (3), and—adopting the suggestion of Mr. A.C. Bradley—enclose line 4 (Which might...could save) in parentheses; thus construing which might not be withstood and whence none could save as adjectival clauses qualifying whirlwinds (3), and taking bore (3) as a transitive verb governing All who approached their sphere (5). This, which I believe to be the true construction, is perhaps indicated quite as clearly by the pointing adopted in the text—a pointing moreover which, on metrical grounds, is, I think, preferable to that proposed by Mr. Bradley. I have added a dash to the comma after sphere (5), to indicate that it is Cythna herself (and not All who approached, etc.) that resembles some calm wave, etc.

23. Which dwell in lakes, when the red moon on high Pause ere it wakens tempest;— (7 22 6, 7.) Here when the moon Pause is clearly irregular, but it appears in editions 1818, 1839, and is undoubtedly Shelley’s phrase. Rossetti cites a conjectural emendation by a certain ‘C.D. Campbell, Mauritius’:—which the red moon on high Pours eve it wakens tempest; but cf. “Julian and Maddalo”, lines 53, 54:— Meanwhile the sun paused ere it should alight, Over the horizon of the mountains. —and “Prince Athanase”, lines 220, 221:— When the curved moon then lingering in the west Paused, in yon waves her mighty horns to wet, etc.

24. —time imparted Such power to me—I became fearless-hearted, etc. (7 30 4, 5.) With Woodberry I replace with a dash the comma (editio princeps) after me (5)retained by Forman, deleted by Rossetti and Dowden. Shelley’s (and Forman’s) punctuation leaves the construction ambiguous; with Woodberry’s the two clauses are seen to be parallel—the latter being appositive to and explanatory of the former; while with Dowden’s the clauses are placed in correlation: time imparted such power to me that I became fearless-hearted.

25. Of love, in that lorn solitude, etc. (7 32 7.) All editions prior to 1876 have lone solitude, etc. The important emendation lorn was first introduced into the text by Forman, from Shelley’s revised copy of “Laon and Cythna”, where lone is found to be turned into lorn by the poet’s own hand.

26. And Hate is throned on high with Fear her mother, etc. (8 13 5.) So the editio princeps; Forman, Dowden, Woodberry, following the text of “Laon and Cythna”, 1818, read, Fear his mother. Forman refers to 10 42 4, 5, where Fear figures as a female, and Hate as ‘her mate and foe.’ But consistency in such matters was not one of Shelley’s characteristics, and there seems to be no need for alteration here. Mrs. Shelley (1839) and Rossetti follow the editio princeps.

27. The ship fled fast till the stars ‘gan to fail, And, round me gathered, etc. (8 26 5, 6.) The editio princeps has no comma after And (6). Mrs. Shelley (1839) places a full stop at fail (5) and reads, All round me gathered, etc.

28. Words which the lore of truth in hues of flame, etc. (9 12 6.) The editio princeps, followed by Rossetti and Woodberry, has hues of grace [cf. note (20) above]; Forman and Dowden read hues of flame. For instances of a rhyme-word doing double service, see 9 34 6, 9 (thee...thee); 6 3 2, 4 (arms...arms); 10 5 1, 3 (came...came).

29. Led them, thus erring, from their native land; (10 5 6.) Editions 1818, 1839 read home for land here. All modern editors adopt Fleay’s cj., land [rhyming with band (8), sand (9)].

30. 11 11 7. Rossetti and Dowden, following Mrs. Shelley (1839), print writhed here.

31. When the broad sunrise, etc. (12 34 3.) When is Rossetti’s cj. (accepted by Dowden) for Where (1818, 1839), which Forman and Woodberry retain. In 11 24 1, 12 15 2 and 12 28 7 there is Forman’s cj. for then (1818).

32. a golden mist did quiver Where its wild surges with the lake were blended,— (12 40 3, 4.) Where is Rossetti’s cj. (accepted by Forman and Dowden) for When (editions 1818, 1839; Woodberry). See also list of punctual variations below.

33. Our bark hung there, as on a line suspended, etc. (12 40 5.) Here on a line is Rossetti’s cj. (accepted by all editors) for one line (editions 1818, 1839). See also list of punctual variations below.

34. LIST OF PUNCTUAL VARIATIONS. Obvious errors of the press excepted, our text reproduces the punctuation of Shelley’s edition (1818), save where the sense is likely to be perverted or obscured thereby. The following list shows where the pointing of the text varies from that of the editio princeps (1818) which is in every instance recorded here.

DEDICATION, 7. long. (9).