VERSES ON A CAT I A CAT in distress, Nothing more, nor less; Good folks, I must faithfully tell ye, It waits for some dinner II You would not easily guess And the various evils, Which like so many devils, III Some a living require, And others desire An old fellow out of the way; I leave to be guessed, IV One wants society, Another variety, Verses on a Cat. Published by Hogg, Life of Shelley, 1858, and dated 1800. Others a tranquil life; Others, as good, Only want a wife. But this poor little cat To stuff out its own little maw; Some people had such food, OMENS HARK! the owlet flaps his wings. EPITAPHIUM LATIN VERSION OF THE EPITAPH IN GRAY'S ELEGY I HIC sinu fessum caput hospitali Nescius auræ. Omens. Published by Medwin, Shelley Papers, 1833, dated 1807. Epitaphium. Published by Medwin, Life of Shelley, 1847, dated 1808-9. II Musa non vultu genus arroganti III Indoles illi bene larga; pectus IV Omne quod mœstis habuit miserto Corde largivit, lacrymam; recepit Omne quod cœlo voluit, fidelis Pectus amici. V Longius sed tu fuge curiosus Cæteras laudes fuge suspicari ; Cæteras culpas fuge velle tractas Sede tremendâ. VI Spe tremescentes recubant in illâ Sede virtutes pariterque culpæ, In sui Patris gremio, tremendâ Sede Deique. IN HOROLOGIUM INTER marmoreas Leonora pendula colles Quas manibus premit illa duas insensa papillas A DIALOGUE DEATH FOR my dagger is bathed in the blood of the brave, Say, victim of grief, wilt thou slumber with me? I offer a calm habitation to thee, Say, victim of grief, wilt thou slumber with me? MORTAL Mine eyelids are heavy; my soul seeks repose; In Horologium. Published by Medwin, Life of Shelley, 1847, dated 1809. A Dialogue, Esdaile MS. || Death: a Dialogue, Rossetti. Published, without title, by Hogg, Life of Shelley, 1858, dated 1809. It longs in thy cells to deposit its load, DEATH Cease, cease, wayward Mortal! I dare not unveil The shadows that float o'er Eternity's vale; Nought waits for the good but a spirit of Love That will hail their blessed advent to regions above. For Love, Mortal, gleams through the gloom of my sway, And the shades which surround me fly fast at its ray. Hast thou loved? Then depart from these regions of hate, And in slumber with me blunt the arrows of fate. I offer a calm habitation to thee, Say, victim of grief, wilt thou slumber with me? MORTAL Oh! sweet is thy slumber! oh! sweet is the ray Though it floats to mine ear from the bosom of I hoped that I quite was forgotten by all, Yet a lingering friend might be grieved at my fall, 22 o'er, Esdaile MS. || on, Hogg, 1858. |