The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Part 165

4.

'Thou art not dead, but thou hast wandered, Thou Soul of ours, who thyself dost fret,' _40 A Spirit of gentle Love beside me said; For that fair Lady, whom thou dost regret, Hath so transformed the life which thou hast led, Thou scornest it, so worthless art thou made.

And see how meek, how pitiful, how staid, _45 Yet courteous, in her majesty she is.

And still call thou her Woman in thy thought; Her whom, if thou thyself deceivest not, Thou wilt behold decked with such loveliness, That thou wilt cry [Love] only Lord, lo! here _50 Thy handmaiden, do what thou wilt with her.

5.

My song, I fear that thou wilt find but few Who fitly shall conceive thy reasoning Of such hard matter dost thou entertain.

Whence, if by misadventure chance should bring _55 Thee to base company, as chance may do, Quite unaware of what thou dost contain, I prithee comfort thy sweet self again, My last delight; tell them that they are dull, And bid them own that thou art beautiful. _60

NOTE: C5. Published with "Epispychidion", 1821.--ED.

MATILDA GATHERING FLOWERS.

FROM THE PURGATORIO OF DANTE, CANTO 28, LINES 1-51.

[Published in part (lines 1-8, 22-51) by Medwin, "The Angler in Wales", 1834, "Life of Sh.e.l.ley", 1847; reprinted in full by Garnett, "Relics of Sh.e.l.ley", 1862.]

And earnest to explore within--around-- The divine wood, whose thick green living woof Tempered the young day to the sight--I wound

Up the green slope, beneath the forest's roof, With slow, soft steps leaving the mountain's steep, _5 And sought those inmost labyrinths, motion-proof

Against the air, that in that stillness deep And solemn, struck upon my forehead bare, The slow, soft stroke of a continuous...

In which the ... leaves tremblingly were _10 All bent towards that part where earliest The sacred hill obscures the morning air.

Yet were they not so shaken from the rest, But that the birds, perched on the utmost spray, Incessantly renewing their blithe quest, _15

With perfect joy received the early day, Singing within the glancing leaves, whose sound Kept a low burden to their roundelay,

Such as from bough to bough gathers around The pine forest on bleak Chia.s.si's sh.o.r.e, _20 When Aeolus Sirocco has unbound.

My slow steps had already borne me o'er Such s.p.a.ce within the antique wood, that I Perceived not where I entered any more,--

When, lo! a stream whose little waves went by, _25 Bending towards the left through gra.s.s that grew Upon its bank, impeded suddenly

My going on. Water of purest hue On earth, would appear turbid and impure Compared with this, whose unconcealing dew, _30

Dark, dark, yet clear, moved under the obscure Eternal shades, whose interwoven looms The rays of moon or sunlight ne'er endure.

I moved not with my feet, but mid the glooms Pierced with my charmed eye, contemplating _35 The mighty mult.i.tude of fresh May blooms

Which starred that night, when, even as a thing That suddenly, for blank astonishment, Charms every sense, and makes all thought take wing,--

A solitary woman! and she went _40 Singing and gathering flower after flower, With which her way was painted and besprent.

'Bright lady, who, if looks had ever power To bear true witness of the heart within, Dost bask under the beams of love, come lower _45

Towards this bank. I prithee let me win This much of thee, to come, that I may hear Thy song: like Proserpine, in Enna's glen,

Thou seemest to my fancy, singing here And gathering flowers, as that fair maiden when _50 She lost the Spring, and Ceres her, more dear.

NOTES: _2 The 1862; That 1834.

_4, _5 So 1862; Up a green slope, beneath the starry roof, With slow, slow steps-- 1834.

_6 inmost 1862; leafy 1834.

_9 So 1862; The slow, soft stroke of a continuous sleep cj. Rossetti, 1870.

_9-_28 So 1862; Like the sweet breathing of a child asleep: Already I had lost myself so far Amid that tangled wilderness that I Perceived not where I ventured, but no fear Of wandering from my way disturbed, when nigh A little stream appeared; the gra.s.s that grew Thick on its banks impeded suddenly My going on. 1834.

_13 the 1862; their cj. Rossetti, 1870.

_26 through]the cj. Rossetti.

_28 hue 1862; dew 1834.

_30 dew 1862; hue 1834.

_32 Eternal shades 1862; Of the close boughs 1834.

_33 So 1862; No ray of moon or suns.h.i.+ne would endure 1834.

_34, _35 So 1862; My feet were motionless, but mid the glooms Darted my charmed eyes--1834.

_37 Which 1834; That 1862.

_39 So 1834; Dissolves all other thought...1862.

_40 So 1862; Appeared a solitary maid--she went 1834.

_46 Towards 1862; Unto 1834.

_47 thee, to come 1862; thee O come 1834.

FRAGMENT.

ADAPTED FROM THE VITA NUOVA OF DANTE.

[Published by Forman, "Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1876.]

What Mary is when she a little smiles I cannot even tell or call to mind, It is a miracle so new, so rare.

UGOLINO.

(Published by Medwin, "Life of Sh.e.l.ley", 1847, with Sh.e.l.ley's corrections in italics [''].--ED.)

INFERNO 33, 22-75.

[Translated by Medwin and corrected by Sh.e.l.ley.]

Now had the loophole of that dungeon, still Which bears the name of Famine's Tower from me, And where 'tis fit that many another will

Be doomed to linger in captivity, Shown through its narrow opening in my cell _5 'Moon after moon slow waning', when a sleep,

'That of the future burst the veil, in dream Visited me. It was a slumber deep And evil; for I saw, or I did seem'