“As the old faded.” — “Figures ever new Rise on the bubble, paint them as you may; We have but thrown, as those before us threw, "Our shadows on it as it passed away. But mark how chained to the triumphal chair "All that is mortal of great Plato there Expiates the joy and woe his Master knew not; The star that ruled his doom was far too fair, "And life, where long that flower of Heaven grew not, Conquered that heart by love, which gold, or pain, Or age, or sloth, or slavery, could subdue not. "And near him walk the twain, The tutor and his pupil, whom Dominion "The world was darkened beneath either pinion Of him whom from the flock of conquerors Fame singled out for her thunder-bearing minion ; "The other long outlived both woes and wars, Throned in the thoughts of men, and still had kept The jealous key of truth's eternal doors, "If Bacon's eagle spirit had not leapt Like lightning out of darkness - he compelled 252 how now, Forman conj. "To wake, and lead him to the caves that held The treasure of the secrets of its reign. See the great bards of elder time, who quelled "The passions which they sung, as by their strain May well be known: their living melody Tempers its own contagion to the vein “Of those who are infected with it. I Have suffered what I wrote, or viler pain! And so my words have seeds of misery "Even as the deeds of others, not as theirs.” And then he pointed to a company, 'Midst whom I quickly recognized the heirs Of Cæsar's crime, from him to Constantine; The anarch chiefs, whose force and murderous snares Had founded many a sceptre-bearing line, Who rose like shadows between man and God, strode, For the true sun it quenched. given "Their power was But to destroy," replied the leader:-"I Am one of those who have created, even 281-82 Even . . then, Boscombe MS. || omit, Mrs. Shelley, 1824. "If it be but a world of agony." “Whence camest thou? and whither goest thou? How did thy course begin?" I said, “and why? "Mine eyes are sick of this perpetual flow Of people, and my heart sick of one sad thought Speak!” —“ Whence I am, I partly seem to know, "And how and by what paths I have been brought To this dread pass, methinks even thou mayst guess. Why this should be, my mind can compass not; “Whither the conqueror hurries me, still less. But follow thou, and from spectator turn Actor or victim in this wretchedness; "And what thou wouldst be taught I then may learn From thee. Now listen: - In the April prime, When all the forest tips began to burn "With kindling green, touched by the azure clime Of the young season, I was laid asleep Under a mountain, which from unknown time "Had yawned into a cavern, high and deep; And from it came a gentle rivulet, Whose water, like clear air, in its calm sweep "Bent the soft grass, and kept forever wet The stems of the sweet flowers, and filled the grove With sounds which whoso hears must needs forget 296 camest, Boscombe MS. || comest, Mrs. Shelley, 1824. 311 season, Boscombe MS. || year's dawn, Mrs. Shelley, 1824. “All pleasure and all pain, all hate and love, Which they had known before that hour of rest. A sleeping mother then would dream not of "Her only child who died upon the breast At eventide; a king would mourn no more The crown of which his brows were dispossessed "When the sun lingered o'er his ocean floor To gild his rival's new prosperity; Thou wouldst forget thus vainly to deplore 66 Ills, which, if ills, can find no cure from thee, The thought of which no other sleep will quell, Nor other music blot from memory, "So sweet and deep is the oblivious spell; And whether life had been before that sleep The heaven which I imagine, or a hell "Like this harsh world in which I wake to weep, I know not. I arose, and for a space The scene of woods and waters seemed to keep, "Though it was now broad day, a gentle trace Of light diviner than the common sun Sheds on the common earth, and all the place "Was filled with magic sounds woven into one Oblivious melody, confusing sense Amid the gliding waves and shadows dun; 320 they | he, Rossetti. 322 the, Boscombe MS. || her, Mrs. Shelley, 1824. 66 And, as I looked, the bright omnipresence Of morning through the orient cavern flowed, And the sun's image radiantly intense "Burned on the waters of the well that glowed Like gold, and threaded all the forest's maze With winding paths of emerald fire. There stood "Amid the sun, as he amid the blaze Of his own glory, on the vibrating Floor of the fountain, paved with flashing rays, 66 "A Shape all light, which with one hand did fling Dew on the earth, as if she were the dawn, And the invisible rain did ever sing "A silver music on the mossy lawn; And still before me on the dusky grass, Iris her many-colored scarf had drawn : "In her right hand she bore a crystal glass, Mantling with bright nepenthe; the fierce splendor Fell from her as she moved under the mass "Of the deep cavern, and, with palms so tender Their tread broke not the mirror of its billow, Glided along the river, and did bend her "Head under the dark boughs, till like a willow, Her fair hair swept the bosom of the stream That whispered with delight to be its pillow. 361 Of the deep cavern, and, Boscombe MS. || Out of the deep cavern with, Mrs. Shelley, 1824 363 Glided, Boscombe MS. | She glided, Mrs. Shelley, 1824. |