Dark, dark, yet clear, moved under the obscure Eternal shades, whose interwoven looms

No

ray of moon or sunshine would endure.

I moved not with my feet, but mid the glooms
Pierced with my charmèd eye, contemplating
The mighty multitude of fresh May blooms

That 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

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

"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,

32 Eternal shades, Garnett, 1862 || Of the close boughs, Medwin, 1834.

33 Medwin, 1834 || The rays of moon or sunlight ne'er endure, Garnett, 1862.

34, 35 Garnett, 1862 ||

My feet were motionless, but mid the glooms
Darted my charmed eyes -

37 That, Garnett || Which, Medwin, 1834.

Medwin, 1834.

39 Medwin, 1834 || Dissolves all other thought... Garnett, 1862. 40 Garnett, 1862 || Appeared a solitary maid win, 1834.

she went, Med

46 Towards, Garnett, 1862 || Unto, Medwin, 1834. 47 Garnett, 1862 || thee. O come, Medwin, 1834.

She lost the spring, and Ceres her, more dear."

V

UGOLINO

INFERNO XXxiii. 22-75

TRANSLATED BY MEDWIN AND CORRECTED BY SHELLEY

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
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

To see that tyrant Lord his revels keep,
The leader of the cruel hunt to them,
Chasing the wolf and wolf-cubs up the steep

Ascent, that from the Pisan is the screen
Of Lucca; with him Gualandi came,
Sismondi, and Lanfranchi, bloodhounds lean,

Ugolino. Published by Medwin, Life of Shelley, 1847, with Shelley's corrections in italics.

Trained to the sport and eager for the game, Wide ranging in his front; but soon were

seen,

Though by so short a course, with spirits tame,

The father and his whelps to flag at once, And then the sharp fangs gored their bosoms deep.

Ere morn I roused myself, and heard my sons,

For they were with me, moaning in their sleep, And begging bread. Ah for those darling ones! Right cruel art thou, if thou dost not weep

In thinking of my soul's sad augury;

And if thou weepest not now, weep never more! They were already waked, as wont drew nigh

The allotted hour for food, and in that hour Each drew a presage from his dream. When I Heard locked beneath me of that horrible tower

The outlet; then into their eyes alone

I looked to read myself, without a sign
Or word. I wept not turned within to stone.

They wept aloud, and little Anselm mine, Said, 'twas my youngest, dearest little one, "What ails thee, father! why look so at thine?"

In all that day, and all the following night,
I wept not, nor replied; but when to shine
Upon the world, not us, came forth the light

Of the new sun, and thwart my prison thrown
Gleamed through its narrow chink, a doleful sight,
Three faces, each the reflex of my own,

Were imaged by its faint and ghastly ray;
Then I, of either hand unto the bone,
Gnawed, in my agony; and thinking they

'Twas done from hunger pangs, in their excess,
All of a sudden raise themselves, and say,
"Father! our woes, so great, were yet the less

Would you but eat of us,

'twas you who clad Our bodies in these weeds of wretchedness, Despoil them." Not to make their hearts more sad,

I hushed myself. That day is at its close,
Another still we were all mute. Oh, had
The obdurate earth opened to end our woes!

The fourth day dawned, and when the new sun shone, Outstretched himself before me as it rose

My Gaddo, saying, "Help, father! hast thou none

For thine own child is there no help from thee?"
He died there at my feet- and one by one,
I saw them fall, plainly as you see me.

Between the fifth and sixth day, ere 'twas dawn, I found myself blind-groping o'er the three. Three days I called them after they were gone.

Famine of grief can get the mastery.

48 yet, Rossetti || not, Medwin, 1847.

SONNET

TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN OF CAVALCANTI

GUIDO CAVALCANTI to DANTE ALIGHIERI

RETURNING from its daily quest, my Spirit
Changed thoughts and vile in thee doth weep to find.
It grieves me that thy mild and gentle mind
Those ample virtues which it did inherit

Has lost.

Once thou didst loathe the multitude Of blind and madding men; I then loved thee I loved thy lofty songs and that sweet mood When thou wert faithful to thyself and me. I dare not now through thy degraded state Own the delight thy strains inspire — in vain I seek what once thou wert we cannot meet As we were wont. Again, and yet again, Ponder my words: so the false Spirit shall fly And leave to thee thy true integrity.

SCENES FROM THE MAGICO PRODIGIOSO

TRANSLATED FROM THE SPANISH OF CALDERON

SCENE I. Enter CYPRIAN, dressed as a Student; CLARIN and MOSCON as poor Scholars, with books.

CYPRIAN

In the sweet solitude of this calm place,
This intricate wild wilderness of trees

Sonnet. Translated from the Italian of Cavalcanti.

by Forman, 1876, and dated by him 1815.

Published

Scenes from the Magico Prodigioso. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824, dated March, 1822. The text follows Mrs. Shelley, 1824, except as noted.