There is a copy amongst the
Trelawny
manuscripts.
Shelley
Had loosed his heart, and shook the leaves and flowers _75
On which he wept, the while the savage storm
Waked by the darkest of December's hours
Was raving round the chamber hushed and warm;
The birds were shivering in their leafless bowers,
The fish were frozen in the pools, the form _80
Of every summer plant was dead
Whilst this. . . .
. . .
NOTES:
_7 lorn Boscombe manuscript; poor edition 1824.
_23 So Boscombe manuscript; Dim object of soul's idolatry edition 1824.
_24 star Boscombe manuscript; wanting edition 1824.
_38 grass fresh Boscombe manuscript; fresh grass edition 1824.
_46 like Boscombe manuscript; as edition 1824.
_68 air and sun Boscombe manuscript; sun and air edition 1824.
***
THE MAGNETIC LADY TO HER PATIENT.
[Published by Medwin, "The Athenaeum", August 11, 1832.
There is a copy amongst the Trelawny manuscripts. ]
1.
'Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain;
My hand is on thy brow,
My spirit on thy brain;
My pity on thy heart, poor friend;
And from my fingers flow _5
The powers of life, and like a sign,
Seal thee from thine hour of woe;
And brood on thee, but may not blend
With thine.
2.
'Sleep, sleep on! I love thee not; _10
But when I think that he
Who made and makes my lot
As full of flowers as thine of weeds,
Might have been lost like thee;
And that a hand which was not mine _15
Might then have charmed his agony
As I another's--my heart bleeds
For thine.
3.
'Sleep, sleep, and with the slumber of
The dead and the unborn _20
Forget thy life and love;
Forget that thou must wake forever;
Forget the world's dull scorn;
Forget lost health, and the divine
Feelings which died in youth's brief morn; _25
And forget me, for I can never
Be thine.
4.
'Like a cloud big with a May shower,
My soul weeps healing rain
On thee, thou withered flower! _30
It breathes mute music on thy sleep
Its odour calms thy brain!
Its light within thy gloomy breast
Spreads like a second youth again.
By mine thy being is to its deep _35
Possessed.
5.
'The spell is done.