But he who gains by base and armed wrong, XVI. WAKE the serpent not-lest he Not a May-fly shall awaken, Not the starlight as he's sliding Through the grass with silent gliding. XVII. ROME has fallen; ye see it lying Heaped in undistinguished ruin: XVIII. THE fitful alternations of the rain, XIX. I WOULD not be a king-enough Of woe it is to love; The path to power is steep and rough, I would not climb the imperial throne; XX. O THOU immortal deity Whose throne is in the depth of human thought, I do adjure thy power and thee By all that man may be, by all that he is not, By all that he has been and yet must be! XXI. HE wanders, like a day-appearing dream, Through the dim wildernesses of the mind; Through desert woods and tracts, which seem Like ocean, homeless, boundless, unconfined. XXII. ON KEATS, WHO DESIRED THAT ON HIS TOMB SHOULD BE INSCRIBED "HERE lieth one whose name was writ on water!' But ere the breath that could erase it blew, Death, in remorse for that fell slaughter,— Death, the immortalizing winter, flew Athwart the stream, and time's monthless torrent grew A scroll of crystal, blazoning the name Of Adonais! XXIII. THE rude wind is singing The dirge of the music dead; XXIV. "WHAT art thou, presumptuous, who profanest In sacred dedication ever grew: One of the crowd thou art without a name." XXV. WHEN Soft winds and sunny skies And the young and dewy dawn. XXVI. THE babe is at peace within the womb; XXVII. EPITAPH. THESE are two friends whose lives were undivided, So let their memory be, now they have glided Under their grave; let not their bones be parted For their two hearts in life were single-hearted. NOTE ON POEMS OF 1824 BY THE EDITOR. THIS morn thy gallant bark By spirits of the deep Thou'rt cradled on the billow To thy eternal sleep. Thou sleepst upon the shore And sea-nymphs evermore They come, they come, The spirits of the deep! My lonely watch I keep. From far across the sea I hear a loud lament, By echo's voice for thee From ocean's caverns sent. O list, O list! The spirits of the deep! They raise a wail of sorrow, While I for ever weep. |