Her hands were clasped, veined, and pale as snow,
And quivering—young Tasso, too, was there.
Maddalo. Thou seest on whom from thine own worshipped heaven
Thou drawest down smiles—they did not rain on thee. 25
Malpiglio. Would they were parching lightnings for his sake
On whom they fell!
SONG FOR 'TASSO'
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824.]
i.
But when we cease to breathe and move
I do suppose love ceases too.
I thought, but not as now I do,
Keen thoughts and bright of linked lore, 5
Of all that men had thought before,
And all that Nature shows, and more.
ii.
But strangely, for my heart can drink
The dregs of such despair, and live, 10
And love;. . .
And if I think, my thoughts come fast,
I mix the present with the past,
And each seems uglier than the last.
iii.
A silver spirit's form, like thee,
O Leonora, and I sit
. . . still watching it,
Till by the grated casement's ledge
It fades, with such a sigh, as sedge 20
Breathes o'er the breezy streamlet's edge.
INVOCATION TO MISERY
[Published by Medwin, The Athenæum, Sept. 8, 1832. Reprinted (as Misery, a Fragment) by Mrs. Shelley, Poetical Works, 1839, 1st ed. Our text is that of 1839. A pencil copy of this poem is amongst the Shelley MSS. at the Bodleian Library. See Mr. C. D. Locock's Examination, &c, 1903, p. 38. The readings of this copy are indicated by the letter B. in the footnotes.]
