Wildered, ungirt, unsandalled — the thorns pierce Her hastening feet and drink her sacred blood. Bitterly screaming out she is driven on Through the long vales; and her Assyrian boy, Her love, her husband calls. The purple blood From his struck thigh stains her white navel now, Her bosom, and her neck before like snow. Alas for Cytherea! the Loves mourn - For Venus whilst Adonis lived was fair The oaks and mountains cry, Ai! ai! Adonis! The springs their waters change to tears and Who will weep not thy deadful woe, O Venus? Of her Adonis saw the life blood flow From his fair thigh, now wasting, wailing loud Stay, dearest one, 66 Stay, Adonis! and mix my lips with thine! Wake yet a while Adonis oh, but once! 31 The rivers change their streams to tears and weep, Boscombe MS. cancelled. 34 resounds replies, Boscombe MS. cancelled. 38 wailing loud || she cried out, Boscombe MS. cancelled. 42 a while little, Boscombe MS. cancelled. That I may kiss thee now for the last time FROM VIRGIL THE TENTH ECLOGUE [V. 1-26] MELODIOUS Arethusa, o'er my verse Shed thou once more the spirit of thy stream. Who denies verse to Gallus? So, when thou Glidest beneath the green and purple gleam Of Syracusan waters, mayst thou flow Unmingled with the bitter Doric dew! Begin, and, whilst the goats are browsing now The soft leaves, in our way let us pursue The melancholy loves of Gallus. List! We sing not to the dead; the wild woods knew His sufferings, and their echoes . . . Young Naiads, wild in what far woodlands Wandered ye when unworthy love possessed The laurels and the myrtle-copses dim. Fragment of the Tenth Eclogue. Published by Rossetti, 1870. The cold crags of Lycæus, weep for him ; What madness is this, Gallus? Thy heart's care With willing steps pursues another there. FROM DANTE I ADAPTED FROM A SONNET IN THE VITA NUOVA WHAT Mary is when she a little smiles I cannot even tell or call to mind, It is a miracle so new, so rare. II SONNET DANTE ALIGHIERI to GUIDO CAVALCANTI GUIDO, I would that Lappo, thou, and I, wend, Adapted from a Sonnet in the Vita Nuova. Published by Forman, 1876. Sonnet. Published with Alastor, 1816. So that no change, nor any evil chance Companions of our wandering, and would grace III THE FIRST CANZONE OF THE CONVITO I YE who intelligent the Third Heaven move, Which cannot be declared, it seems so new. I pray that ye will hear me when I cry, And tell of mine own Heart this novelty; 5 So, Mrs. Shelley, 1824 || And, Shelley, 1816. 10 my thy, Forman conj. The First Canzone of the Convito. Published by Garnett, 1862, and dated 1820. II A sweet Thought, which was once the life within This heavy Heart, many a time and oft Went up before our Father's feet, and there So that I said, "Thither I too will fare." Which tyrannizes me with such fierce stress That my heart trembles - ye may see it leap- Mine eyes, and says: "Who would have blessedness III This lowly Thought, which once would talk with me Of a bright Seraph sitting crowned on high, Found such a cruel foe it died; and so My Spirit wept the grief is hot even nowAnd said, "Alas for me! how swift could flee That piteous Thought which did my life console !" And the afflicted one questioning Mine eyes, if such a Lady saw they never, And why they would . . . I said: "Beneath those eyes might stand for ever He whom regards must kill with. ... To have known their power stood me in little Those stead; eyes have looked on me, and I am dead." |