XL. She hurried at his words, beset with fears, 355 A chain-droop'd lamp was flickering by each door; The arras, rich with horsemen, hawk, and hound, And the long carpets rose along the gusty floor. 360 XLI. They glide, like phantoms, into the wide hall! Where lay the Porter, in uneasy sprawl, With a huge empty flagon by his side: The wakeful bloodhound rose, and shook his hide, 365 But his sagacious eye an inmate owns : By one, and one, the bolts full easy slide: The chains lie silent on the footworn stones; The key turns, and the door upon its hinges groans; XLII. And they are gone: ay, ages long ago 370 These lovers fled away into the storm. That night the Baron dreamt of many a woe, 375 SHELLEY. ADONAIS. I. I WEEP for ADONAIS-he is dead! Oh, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head! 5 And teach them thine own sorrow; say: With me Forget the Past, his fate and fame shall be An echo and a light unto eternity! II. Where wert thou, mighty Mother, when he lay, ΙΟ When thy son lay, pierced by the shaft which flies When Adonais died? With veiled eyes, 'Mid listening Echoes, in her Paradise She sate, while one, with soft enamoured breath, 15 Rekindled all the fading melodies, With which, like flowers that mock the corse beneath, He had adorned and hid the coming bulk of death. Like his, a mute and uncomplaining sleep; For he is gone, where all things wise and fair 25 Death feeds on his mute voice, and laughs at our despair. IV. Most musical of mourners, weep again! Who was the Sire of an immortal strain, Into the gulf of death; but his clear Sprite Yet reigns o'er earth, the third among the sons of light. V. Most musical of mourners, weep anew! Not all to that bright station dared to climb: Which leads, through toil and hate, to Fame's serene abode. 45 VI. But now, thy youngest, dearest one, has perished, Like a pale flower by some sad maiden cherished, Most musical of mourners, weep anew! 50 Thy extreme hope, the loveliest and the last, The bloom, whose petals nipt before they blew VII. To that high Capital, where kingly Death 55 A grave among the eternal.-Come away! Haste, while the vault of blue Italian day Is yet his fitting charnel-roof! while still He lies, as if in dewy sleep he lay; Awake him not! surely he takes his fill Of deep and liquid rest, forgetful of all ill. 60 VIII. He will awake no more, oh, never more! His extreme way to her dim dwelling-place; Of change shall o'er his sleep the mortal curtain draw. IX. 65 70 Oh, weep for Adonais !-The quick Dreams, The passion-winged Ministers of thought, Who were his flocks, whom near the living streams 75 Of his young spirit he fed, and whom he taught The love which was its music, wander not,— But droop there, whence they sprung; and mourn their lot Round the cold heart, where, after their sweet pain, They ne'er will gather strength, nor find a home again. 80 X. And one with trembling hand clasps his cold head, "Our love, our hope, our sorrow, is not dead; See, on the silken fringe of his faint eyes, 85 Like dew upon a sleeping flower, there lies A tear some Dream hath loosened from his brain." She knew not 'twas her own, as with no stain She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain. XI. One from a lucid urn of starry dew Washed his light limbs, as if embalming them; The wreath upon him, like an anadem, A greater loss with one which was more weak; And dull the barbed fire against his frozen cheek. 90 95 XII. Another Splendour on his mouth alit, That mouth whence it was wont to draw the breath And, as a dying meteor stains a wreath Of moonlight vapour, which the cold night clips, It flushed through his pale limbs, and passed to its eclipse. XIII. And others came,-Desires and Adorations, Splendours and Glooms and glimmering Incarnations Of hopes and fears, and twilight Phantasies; And Sorrow, with her family of Sighs, 100 105 IIO Of her own dying smile instead of eyes, And Pleasure, blind with tears, led by the gleam 115 Came in slow pomp;-the moving pomp might seem Like pageantry of mist on an autumnal stream. XIV. All he had loved, and moulded into thought 120 Her eastern watch-tower, and her hair unbound, Afar the melancholy thunder moaned, Pale Ocean in unquiet slumber lay, 125 And the wild winds flew around, sobbing in their dismay. And will no more reply to winds or fountains, Or amorous birds perched on the young green spray, 130 Or herdsman's horn, or bell at closing day; Since she can mimic not his lips, more dear Than those for whose disdain she pined away Murmur, between their songs, is all the woodmen hear. 135 |