Rocks the year:-be calm and mild, With new love within her eyes. IV. January grey is here, Like a sexton by her grave; March with grief doth howl and rave, TO NIGHT.1 I. SWIFTLY walk over the western wave, Out of the misty eastern cave, Where all the long and lone daylight, II. Wrap thy form in a mantle grey, Star-inwrought! Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day;2 Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land, 1 This and the nine poems which follow it all appear in the Posthumous Poems (1824). 2 In Mrs. Shelley's editions, day, with a small d. III. When I arose and saw the dawn, I sighed for thee; When light rode high, and the dew was gone, IV. Thy brother Death came, and cried, Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noon-tide bee, Shall I nestle near thy side? Wouldst thou me ?-And I replied, FROM THE ARABIC. AN IMITATION.1 I. My faint spirit was sitting in the light It panted for thee like the hind at noon. Thy barb whose hoofs outspeed the tempest's flight My heart, for my weak feet were weary soon, II. Ah! fleeter far than fleetest storm or steed, Or the death they bear, The heart which tender thought clothes like a dove In the battle, in the darkness, in the need, Shall mine cling to thee, Nor claim one smile for all the comfort, love, 1 This song is said by Medwin to be "almost a translation" from a passage in a very remarkable book,- Antar, a Bedoween Romance, by Terrick Hamilton, in 4 vols. (London 1819 and 1820). I have not succeeded in identifying the passage; but I confess I have not, with that view, read through the book, which is full of love-songs done in poetic prose. TO EMILIA VIVIANI.1 MADONNA, wherefore hast thou sent to me Embleming love and health, which never yet Alas, and they are wet! Is it with thy kisses or thy tears? Such fragrance drew From plant or flower-the very doubt endears My sadness ever new, The sighs I breathe, the tears I shed for thee.3 TIME. UNFATHOMABLE Sea! whose waves are years, Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow And sick of prey, yet howling on for more, 1 In the Posthumous Poems, this madrigal is headed "TO E*** V***,” and dated March, 1821. 2 Spelt mignionette in Mrs. Shelley's editions of 1824 and 1839. 3 Mr. Garnett (Relics of Shelley) gives as the commencement of a second stanza of this poem the first of Send the stars light, but send not love to me, LINES. I. FAR, far away, O ye II. Vultures, who build your bowers Dying joys choked by the dead, THE FUGITIVES. I. THE waters are flashing, The white hail is dashing, The lightnings are glancing, The whirlwind is rolling, The thunder is tolling, |