PASSAGES OF THE POEM, OR
CONNECTED
THEREWITH.
Shelley
V.
Epipsych
Lines addressed to
the Noble Lady
[Emilia] [E. V. ]
Emilia
[The following Poem was found in the PF. of a young Englishman, who
died on his passage from Leghorn to the Levant. He had bought one of
the Sporades] He was accompanied by a lady [who might have been]
supposed to be his wife, & an effeminate looking youth, to whom he
shewed an [attachment] so [singular] excessive an attachment as to
give rise to the suspicion, that she was a woman--At his death this
suspicion was confirmed;. . . object speedily found a refuge both from
the taunts of the brute multitude, and from the. . . of her grief in the
same grave that contained her lover. --He had bought one of the
Sporades, & fitted up a Saracenic castle which accident had preserved
in some repair with simple elegance, & it was his intention to
dedicate the remainder of his life to undisturbed intercourse with his
companions
These verses apparently were intended as a dedication of a longer poem
or series of poems
PREFACE 3.
The writer of these lines died at Florence in [January 1820] while he
was preparing * * for one wildest of the of the Sporades, where he
bought & fitted up the ruins of some old building--His life was
singular, less on account of the romantic vicissitudes which
diversified it, than the ideal tinge which they received from his own
character & feelings--
The verses were apparently intended by the writer to accompany some
longer poem or collection of poems, of which there* [are no remnants
in his] * * * remains [in his] portfolio. --
The editor is induced to
The present poem, like the vita Nova of Dante, is sufficiently
intelligible to a certain class of readers without a matter of fact
history of the circumstances to which it relate, & to a certain other
class, it must & ought ever to remain incomprehensible--It was
evidently intended to be prefixed to a longer poem or series of
poems--but among his papers there are no traces of such a collection.
PASSAGES OF THE POEM, OR CONNECTED THEREWITH.
Here, my dear friend, is a new book for you;
I have already dedicated two
To other friends, one female and one male,--
What you are, is a thing that I must veil;
What can this be to those who praise or rail? _5
I never was attached to that great sect
Whose doctrine is that each one should select
Out of the world a mistress or a friend,
And all the rest, though fair and wise, commend
To cold oblivion--though 'tis in the code _10
Of modern morals, and the beaten road
Which those poor slaves with weary footsteps tread
Who travel to their home among the dead
By the broad highway of the world--and so
With one sad friend, and many a jealous foe, _15
The dreariest and the longest journey go.
Free love has this, different from gold and clay,
That to divide is not to take away.
Like ocean, which the general north wind breaks
Into ten thousand waves, and each one makes _20
A mirror of the moon--like some great glass,
Which did distort whatever form might pass,
Dashed into fragments by a playful child,
Which then reflects its eyes and forehead mild;
Giving for one, which it could ne'er express, _25
A thousand images of loveliness.
If I were one whom the loud world held wise,
I should disdain to quote authorities
In commendation of this kind of love:--
Why there is first the God in heaven above, _30
Who wrote a book called Nature, 'tis to be
Reviewed, I hear, in the next Quarterly;
And Socrates, the Jesus Christ of Greece,
And Jesus Christ Himself, did never cease
To urge all living things to love each other, _35
And to forgive their mutual faults, and smother
The Devil of disunion in their souls.
. . .
I love you! --Listen, O embodied Ray
Of the great Brightness; I must pass away
While you remain, and these light words must be _40
Tokens by which you may remember me.
Start not--the thing you are is unbetrayed,
If you are human, and if but the shade
Of some sublimer spirit. . .
. .
Lines addressed to
the Noble Lady
[Emilia] [E. V. ]
Emilia
[The following Poem was found in the PF. of a young Englishman, who
died on his passage from Leghorn to the Levant. He had bought one of
the Sporades] He was accompanied by a lady [who might have been]
supposed to be his wife, & an effeminate looking youth, to whom he
shewed an [attachment] so [singular] excessive an attachment as to
give rise to the suspicion, that she was a woman--At his death this
suspicion was confirmed;. . . object speedily found a refuge both from
the taunts of the brute multitude, and from the. . . of her grief in the
same grave that contained her lover. --He had bought one of the
Sporades, & fitted up a Saracenic castle which accident had preserved
in some repair with simple elegance, & it was his intention to
dedicate the remainder of his life to undisturbed intercourse with his
companions
These verses apparently were intended as a dedication of a longer poem
or series of poems
PREFACE 3.
The writer of these lines died at Florence in [January 1820] while he
was preparing * * for one wildest of the of the Sporades, where he
bought & fitted up the ruins of some old building--His life was
singular, less on account of the romantic vicissitudes which
diversified it, than the ideal tinge which they received from his own
character & feelings--
The verses were apparently intended by the writer to accompany some
longer poem or collection of poems, of which there* [are no remnants
in his] * * * remains [in his] portfolio. --
The editor is induced to
The present poem, like the vita Nova of Dante, is sufficiently
intelligible to a certain class of readers without a matter of fact
history of the circumstances to which it relate, & to a certain other
class, it must & ought ever to remain incomprehensible--It was
evidently intended to be prefixed to a longer poem or series of
poems--but among his papers there are no traces of such a collection.
PASSAGES OF THE POEM, OR CONNECTED THEREWITH.
Here, my dear friend, is a new book for you;
I have already dedicated two
To other friends, one female and one male,--
What you are, is a thing that I must veil;
What can this be to those who praise or rail? _5
I never was attached to that great sect
Whose doctrine is that each one should select
Out of the world a mistress or a friend,
And all the rest, though fair and wise, commend
To cold oblivion--though 'tis in the code _10
Of modern morals, and the beaten road
Which those poor slaves with weary footsteps tread
Who travel to their home among the dead
By the broad highway of the world--and so
With one sad friend, and many a jealous foe, _15
The dreariest and the longest journey go.
Free love has this, different from gold and clay,
That to divide is not to take away.
Like ocean, which the general north wind breaks
Into ten thousand waves, and each one makes _20
A mirror of the moon--like some great glass,
Which did distort whatever form might pass,
Dashed into fragments by a playful child,
Which then reflects its eyes and forehead mild;
Giving for one, which it could ne'er express, _25
A thousand images of loveliness.
If I were one whom the loud world held wise,
I should disdain to quote authorities
In commendation of this kind of love:--
Why there is first the God in heaven above, _30
Who wrote a book called Nature, 'tis to be
Reviewed, I hear, in the next Quarterly;
And Socrates, the Jesus Christ of Greece,
And Jesus Christ Himself, did never cease
To urge all living things to love each other, _35
And to forgive their mutual faults, and smother
The Devil of disunion in their souls.
. . .
I love you! --Listen, O embodied Ray
Of the great Brightness; I must pass away
While you remain, and these light words must be _40
Tokens by which you may remember me.
Start not--the thing you are is unbetrayed,
If you are human, and if but the shade
Of some sublimer spirit. . .
. .
