LIII. Her voice was as a mountain stream which sweeps Such living change, and kindling murmurs flew LIV. Over the plain the throngs were scattered then And Hope, and Justice, and Laone's name, Earth's children did a woof of happy converse frame. LV. Their feast was such as Earth, the general mother, Pours from her fairest bosom, when she smiles In the embrace of Autumn;-to each other As when some parent fondly reconciles Her warring children, she their wrath beguiles With her own sustenance; they relenting weep: Such was this Festival, which from their isles. And continents, and winds, and oceans deep, All shapes might throng to share, that fly, or walk, or creep. 1 I leave the word light notwithstanding the "conclusive" reasons Mr. Rossetti sees in the words name and frame for altering light to flume. LVI. Might share in peace and innocence, for gore In baskets; with pure streams their thirsting lips they wet. LVII. Laone had descended from the shrine, And every deepest look and holiest mind Fed on her form, though now those tones divine Were silent as she past; she did unwind Her veil, as with the crowds of her own kind She mixed; some impulse made my heart refrain LVIII. And joyous was our feast; pathetic talk, Who feels but when his zone grew dim in mist Canto Sixth. I. BESIDE the dimness of the glimmering sea, Of the last watchfire fell, and darkness wrapt The waves, and each bright chain of floating fire was snapt,3 II. And till we came even to the City's wall And the great gate, then, none knew whence or why, And first, one pale and breathless past us by, Of their own terror driven, 1 The male friend,-not Cythna. 2 In the original edition, 'till. 3 There is a full stop here in Shelley's tumultuously edition; but I think there can be little if any doubt that he would have put a comma. Hither and thither hurrying with pale cheeks, III. Then, rallying cries of treason and of danger Came to me, as to know their cause I leapt On the gate's turret, and in rage and grief and scorn I wept !2 IV. For to the North I saw the town on fire, The red artillery's bolt mangling among them falls. V. And now the horsemen come-and all was done Their red swords flash in the unrisen sun. serve as 1 One of several instances in which identical words have to rhymes. In this case, at all events, I cannot imagine Shelley would have made any change; and I doubt whether he would in the case of the very next stanza. It is quite likely that he had in his mind the memorable instances of the same licence 2 taken by Dante in the Paradiso. Probably Shelley would have wished to reduce this line to the standard six feet, had he observed that it consisted of seven ; but as we cannot tell whether rage, grief or scorn would have been sacrificed, we can but leave it as it is. I rushed among the rout to have repelled As if reproach from their own hearts withheld Their steps, they stood; but soon came pouring there New multitudes, and did those rallied bands o'erbear. VI. I strove, as drifted on some cataract By irresistible streams, some wretch might strive In one dread mass, were parted, and the stain Of blood, from mortal steel fell o'er the fields like rain. VII. For now the despot's blood-hounds with their prey, Their gluttony of death; the loose array Of horsemen o'er the wide fields murdering sweep, A harvest sown with other hopes, the while, A killing rain of fire1:—when the waves smile, 1 There is some difficulty in realizing this picture. It should seem that the hireling cavalry of Othman were sabring the patriots at close quarters, and that, at the same time, the warships from Propontis were firing bombs into the conflict, regardless whether hirelings or patriots were the victims. I presume Shelley did not notice this indiscriminate consequence, in the ardour of his narration. 2 The final line and a half, as printed in Shelley's and Mrs. Shelley's editions, are to me quite inscrutable, although Mr. Rossetti, without remark, follows those editions. The passage has hitherto stood thus: When the waves smile As sudden earthquakes light many a volcano isle. The full stop at the end closes it in as belonging to the sense of this stanza; |