The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Part 109

Dated 1817 (Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley).]

Silver key of the fountain of tears, Where the spirit drinks till the brain is wild; Softest grave of a thousand fears, Where their mother, Care, like a drowsy child, Is laid asleep in flowers. _5

ANOTHER FRAGMENT: TO MUSIC.

[Published in "Poetical Works", 1839, 1st edition.

Dated 1817 (Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley).]

No, Music, thou art not the 'food of Love.'

Unless Love feeds upon its own sweet self, Till it becomes all Music murmurs of.

'MIGHTY EAGLE'.

SUPPOSED TO BE ADDRESSED TO WILLIAM G.o.dWIN.

[Published in 1882 ("Poetical Works of P. B. S.") by Mr. H. Buxton Forman, C.B., by whom it is dated 1817.]

Mighty eagle! thou that soarest O'er the misty mountain forest, And amid the light of morning Like a cloud of glory hiest, And when night descends defiest _5 The embattled tempests' warning!

TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR.

[Published in part (5-9, 14) by Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 1st edition (without t.i.tle); in full 2nd edition (with t.i.tle). Four transcripts in Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley's hand are extant: two--Leigh Hunt's and Ch. Cowden Clarke's--described by Forman, and two belonging to Mr. C.W.

Frederickson of Brooklyn, described by Woodberry ["Poetical Works", Centenary Edition, 3 193-6]. One of the latter (here referred to as Fa) is corrected in Sh.e.l.ley's autograph. A much-corrected draft in Sh.e.l.ley's hand is in the Harvard ma.n.u.script book.]

1.

Thy country's curse is on thee, darkest crest Of that foul, knotted, many-headed worm Which rends our Mother's bosom--Priestly Pest!

Masked Resurrection of a buried Form!

2.

Thy country's curse is on thee! Justice sold, _5 Truth trampled, Nature's landmarks overthrown, And heaps of fraud-acc.u.mulated gold, Plead, loud as thunder, at Destruction's throne.

3.

And whilst that sure slow Angel which aye stands Watching the beck of Mutability _10 Delays to execute her high commands, And, though a nation weeps, spares thine and thee,

4.

Oh, let a father's curse be on thy soul, And let a daughter's hope be on thy tomb; Be both, on thy gray head, a leaden cowl _15 To weigh thee down to thine approaching doom.

5.

I curse thee by a parent's outraged love, By hopes long cherished and too lately lost, By gentle feelings thou couldst never prove, By griefs which thy stern nature never crossed; _20

6.

By those infantine smiles of happy light, Which were a fire within a stranger's hearth, Quenched even when kindled, in untimely night Hiding the promise of a lovely birth:

7.

By those unpractised accents of young speech, _25 Which he who is a father thought to frame To gentlest lore, such as the wisest teach-- THOU strike the lyre of mind!--oh, grief and shame!

8.

By all the happy see in children's growth-- That undeveloped flower of budding years-- _30 Sweetness and sadness interwoven both, Source of the sweetest hopes and saddest fears-

9.

By all the days, under an hireling's care, Of dull constraint and bitter heaviness,-- O wretched ye if ever any were,-- _35 Sadder than orphans, yet not fatherless!

10.

By the false cant which on their innocent lips Must hang like poison on an opening bloom, By the dark creeds which cover with eclipse Their pathway from the cradle to the tomb-- _40

11.

By thy most impious h.e.l.l, and all its terror; By all the grief, the madness, and the guilt Of thine impostures, which must be their error-- That sand on which thy crumbling power is built--

12.

By thy complicity with l.u.s.t and hate-- _45 Thy thirst for tears--thy hunger after gold-- The ready frauds which ever on thee wait-- The servile arts in which thou hast grown old--

13.

By thy most killing sneer, and by thy smile-- By all the arts and snares of thy black den, _50 And--for thou canst outweep the crocodile-- By thy false tears--those millstones braining men--

14.

By all the hate which checks a father's love-- By all the scorn which kills a father's care-- By those most impious hands which dared remove _55 Nature's high bounds--by thee--and by despair--

15.

Yes, the despair which bids a father groan, And cry, 'My children are no longer mine-- The blood within those veins may be mine own, But--Tyrant--their polluted souls are thine;-- _60

16.

I curse thee--though I hate thee not.--O slave!

If thou couldst quench the earth-consuming h.e.l.l Of which thou art a daemon, on thy grave This curse should be a blessing. Fare thee well!

NOTES: _9 Angel which aye cancelled by Sh.e.l.ley for Fate which ever Fa.

_24 promise of a 1839, 2nd edition; promises of 1839, 1st edition.

_27 lore]love Fa.

_32 and saddest]the saddest Fa.

_36 yet not fatherless! cancelled by Sh.e.l.ley for why not fatherless? Fa.

_41-_44 By...built 'crossed by Sh.e.l.ley and marked dele by Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley'

(Woodberry) Fa.

_50 arts and snares 1839, 1st edition; snares and arts Harvard Coll. ma.n.u.script; snares and nets Fa.; acts and snares 1839, 2nd edition.

_59 those]their Fa.

TO WILLIAM Sh.e.l.lEY.

[Published by Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley (1, 5, 6), "Poetical Works", 1839, 1st edition; in full, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition. A transcript is extant in Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley's hand.]