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The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Part 190

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'Now I claim thee as my love, Lay aside all chilling fear, _90 My affection will I prove, Where sheeted ghosts and spectres are!

'For thou art mine, and I am thine, 'Till the dreaded judgement day, I am thine, and thou art mine-- _95 Night is past--I must away.'

Still I gazed, and still the form Pressed upon my aching sight, Still I braved the howling storm, When the ghost dissolved in night.-- _100

Restless, sleepless fled the night, Sleepless as a sick man's bed, When he sighs for morning light, When he turns his aching head,--

Slow and painful pa.s.sed the day. _105 Melancholy seized my brain, Lingering fled the hours away, Lingering to a wretch in pain.--



At last came night, ah! horrid hour, Ah! chilling time that wakes the dead, _110 When demons ride the clouds that lower, --The phantom sat upon my bed.

In hollow voice, low as the sound Which in some charnel makes its moan, What floats along the burying ground, _115 The phantom claimed me as her own.

Her chilling finger on my head, With coldest touch congealed my soul-- Cold as the finger of the dead, Or damps which round a tombstone roll-- _120

Months are pa.s.sed in lingering round, Every night the spectre comes, With thrilling step it shakes the ground, With thrilling step it round me roams--

Stranger! I have told to thee, _125 All the tale I have to tell-- Stranger! canst thou tell to me, How to 'scape the powers of h.e.l.l?--

STRANGER: Warrior! I can ease thy woes, Wilt thou, wilt thou, come with me-- _130 Warrior! I can all disclose, Follow, follow, follow me.

Yet the tempest's duskiest wing, Its mantle stretches o'er the sky, Yet the midnight ravens sing, _135 'Mortal! Mortal! thou must die.'

At last they saw a river clear, That crossed the heathy path they trod, The Stranger's look was wild and drear, The firm Earth shook beneath his nod-- _140

He raised a wand above his head, He traced a circle on the plain, In a wild verse he called the dead, The dead with silent footsteps came.

A burning brilliance on his head, _145 Flaming filled the stormy air, In a wild verse he called the dead, The dead in motley crowd were there.--

'Ghasta! Ghasta! come along, Bring thy fiendish crowd with thee, _150 Quickly raise th' avenging Song, Ghasta! Ghasta! come to me.'

Horrid shapes in mantles gray, Flit athwart the stormy night, 'Ghasta! Ghasta! come away, _155 Come away before 'tis light.'

See! the sheeted Ghost they bring, Yelling dreadful o'er the heath, Hark! the deadly verse they sing, Tidings of despair and death! _160

The yelling Ghost before him stands, See! she rolls her eyes around, Now she lifts her bony hands, Now her footsteps shake the ground.

STRANGER: Phantom of Theresa say, _165 Why to earth again you came, Quickly speak, I must away!

Or you must bleach for aye in flame,--

PHANTOM: Mighty one I know thee now, Mightiest power of the sky, _170 Know thee by thy flaming brow, Know thee by thy sparkling eye.

That fire is scorching! Oh! I came, From the caverned depth of h.e.l.l, My fleeting false Rodolph to claim, _175 Mighty one! I know thee well.--

STRANGER: Ghasta! seize yon wandering sprite, Drag her to the depth beneath, Take her swift, before 'tis light, Take her to the cells of death! _180

Thou that heardst the trackless dead, In the mouldering tomb must lie, Mortal! look upon my head, Mortal! Mortal! thou must die.

Of glowing flame a cross was there, _185 Which threw a light around his form, Whilst his lank and raven hair, Floated wild upon the storm.--

The warrior upwards turned his eyes, Gazed upon the cross of fire, _190 There sat horror and surprise, There sat G.o.d's eternal ire.--

A s.h.i.+vering through the Warrior flew, Colder than the nightly blast, Colder than the evening dew, _195 When the hour of twilight's past.--

Thunder shakes th' expansive sky, Shakes the bosom of the heath, 'Mortal! Mortal! thou must die'-- The warrior sank convulsed in death. _200

JANUARY, 1810.

NOTES: _114 its]it 1810.

_115 What]query Which?

17. FRAGMENT, OR THE TRIUMPH OF CONSCIENCE.

'Twas dead of the night when I sate in my dwelling, One glimmering lamp was expiring and low,-- Around the dark tide of the tempest was swelling, Along the wild mountains night-ravens were yelling, They bodingly presaged destruction and woe! _5

'Twas then that I started, the wild storm was howling, Nought was seen, save the lightning that danced on the sky, Above me the crash of the thunder was rolling, And low, chilling murmurs the blast wafted by.--

My heart sank within me, unheeded the jar _10 Of the battling clouds on the mountain-tops broke, Unheeded the thunder-peal crashed in mine ear, This heart hard as iron was stranger to fear, But conscience in low noiseless whispering spoke.

'Twas then that her form on the whirlwind uprearing, _15 The dark ghost of the murdered Victoria strode, Her right hand a blood reeking dagger was bearing, She swiftly advanced to my lonesome abode.-- I wildly then called on the tempest to bear me!

POEMS FROM ST. IRVYNE, OR, THE ROSICRUCIAN.

["St. Irvyne; or The Rosicrucian", appeared early in 1811 (see "Bibliographical List"). Rossetti (1870) relying on a pa.s.sage in Medwin's "Life of Sh.e.l.ley" (1 page 74), a.s.signs 1, 4, 5, and 6 to 1808, and 2 and 4 to 1809. The t.i.tles of 1, 3, 4, and 5 are Rossetti's; those of 2 and 6 are Dowden's.]

1.--VICTORIA.

[Another version of "The Triumph of Conscience" immediately preceding.]

1.

'Twas dead of the night, when I sat in my dwelling; One glimmering lamp was expiring and low; Around, the dark tide of the tempest was swelling, Along the wild mountains night-ravens were yelling,-- They bodingly presaged destruction and woe. _5

2.

'Twas then that I started!--the wild storm was howling, Nought was seen, save the lightning, which danced in the sky; Above me, the crash of the thunder was rolling, And low, chilling murmurs, the blast wafted by.

3.

My heart sank within me--unheeded the war _10 Of the battling clouds, on the mountain-tops, broke;-- Unheeded the thunder-peal crashed in mine ear-- This heart, hard as iron, is stranger to fear; But conscience in low, noiseless whispering spoke.

4.

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The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Part 190 summary

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