NOTE ON POEMS OF 1820, BY MRS. SHELLEY We spent the latter part of the year | accomplishments, and charming from 1819 in Florence, where Shelley passed her frank and affectionate nature. She several hours daily in the Gallery, and had the most intense love of knowmade various notes on its ancient works ledge, a delicate and trembling sensiof art. His thoughts were a good deal bility, and preserved freshness of mind taken up also by the project of a after a life of considerable adversity. steamboat, undertaken by a friend, an As a favourite friend of my father, we engineer, to ply between Leghorn and had sought her with eagerness; and Marseilles, for which he supplied a sum the most open and cordial friendship of money. This was a sort of plan to was established between us. delight Shelley, and he was greatly disappointed when it was thrown aside. There was something in Florence that disagreed excessively with his health, and he suffered far more pain than usual; so much so that we left it sooner than we intended, and removed to Pisa, where we had some friends, and, above all, where we could consult the celebrated Vaccà as to the cause of Shelley's sufferings. He, like every other medical man, could only guess at that, and gave little hope of immediate relief; he enjoined him to abstain from all physicians and medicine, and to leave his complaint to Nature. As he had vainly consulted medical men of the highest repute in England, he was easily persuaded to adopt this advice. Pain and ill-health followed him to the end; but the residence at Pisa agreed with him better than any other, and there in consequence we remained. Our stay at the Baths of San Giuliano was shortened by an accident. At the foot of our garden ran the canal that communicated between the Serchio and the Arno. The Serchio overflowed its banks, and, breaking its bounds, this canal also overflowed; all this part of the country is below the level of its rivers, and the consequence was that it was speedily flooded. The rising waters filled the Square of the Baths, in the lower part of which our house was situated. The canal overflowed in the garden behind; the rising waters on either side at last burst open the doors, and, meeting in the house, rose to the height of six feet. It was a picturesque sight at night to see the peasants driving the cattle from the plains below to the hills above the Baths. A fire was kept up to guide them across the ford; and the forms of the men and the animals showed in dark relief against the red glare of the flame, which was reflected again in the waters that filled the Square. In the Spring we spent a week or two near Leghorn, borrowing the house of some friends who were absent on a journey to England. It was on a We then removed to Pisa, and took beautiful summer evening, while wan-up our abode there for the winter. The dering among the lanes whose myrtle- extreme mildness of the climate suited hedges were the bowers of the fire-flies, Shelley, and his solitude was enlivened that we heard the carolling of the sky- by an intercourse with several intimate lark which inspired one of the most friends. Chance cast us strangely enough beautiful of his poems. He addressed on this quiet half-unpeopled town; but the letter to Mrs. Gisborne from this its very peace suited Shelley. Its river, house, which was hers: he had made the near mountains, and not distant sea, his study of the workshop of her son, added to its attractions, and were the who was an engineer. Mrs. Gisborne objects of many delightful excursions. had been a friend of my father in her We feared the south of Italy, and a younger days. She was a lady of great hotter climate, on account of our child · passionately fond of travelling. Be human life, besides its great unalterabe necessities, is ruled by a thousand li liputian ties that shackle at the time. although it is difficult to account after wards for their influence over OL our former bereavement inspiring us POEMS WRITTEN IN 1821 DIRGE FOR THE YEAR [Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824, and dated [Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824. There is a transcript in the Harvard MS. Book.] [Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824.] Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow And sick of prey, yet howling on for more, LINES [Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824.] I FAR, far away, O ye II Vultures, who build your bowers spread! 35 on hopes are 5 Dying joys, choked by the dead, Will serve your beaks for prey / Many a day. FROM THE ARABIC: AN IMITATION [Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824. There is an intermediate draft amongst the Bodleian MSS. See Locock, Examination, &c., 1903, p. 13.] I My faint spirit was sitting in the light Of thy looks, my love; 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, TO EMILIA VIVIANI [Published, i. by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824; ii. 1 by Dr. Garnett. Relics of Shelley, 1862; ii. 2, 3 by H. Buxton Forman, P. W. of P. B. S., 1876.] I 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? For never rain or dew 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. II Send the stars light, but send not love to me, Health like a heap of embers soon to fade- THE FUGITIVES [Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824.] [Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824.] MUSIC, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, SONG [Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824. There is a transcript in the Harvard MS. book.] 5 Spirit false! thou hast forgot 57 clung“, – 11. 1839. |