NOTES:
_58-_61 List, my dear fellow, the breeze blows fair;
How it scatters Dominic's long black hair!
_58-_61 List, my dear fellow, the breeze blows fair;
How it scatters Dominic's long black hair!
Shelley
.
.
'Ay, heave the ballast overboard,
And stow the eatables in the aft locker. '
'Would not this keg be best a little lowered? ' _75
'No, now all's right. ' 'Those bottles of warm tea--
(Give me some straw)--must be stowed tenderly;
Such as we used, in summer after six,
To cram in greatcoat pockets, and to mix
Hard eggs and radishes and rolls at Eton, _80
And, couched on stolen hay in those green harbours
Farmers called gaps, and we schoolboys called arbours,
Would feast till eight. '
. . .
With a bottle in one hand,
As if his very soul were at a stand _85
Lionel stood--when Melchior brought him steady:--
'Sit at the helm--fasten this sheet--all ready! '
The chain is loosed, the sails are spread,
The living breath is fresh behind,
As with dews and sunrise fed, _90
Comes the laughing morning wind;--
The sails are full, the boat makes head
Against the Serchio's torrent fierce,
Then flags with intermitting course,
And hangs upon the wave, and stems _95
The tempest of the. . .
Which fervid from its mountain source
Shallow, smooth and strong doth come,--
Swift as fire, tempestuously
It sweeps into the affrighted sea; _100
In morning's smile its eddies coil,
Its billows sparkle, toss and boil,
Torturing all its quiet light
Into columns fierce and bright.
The Serchio, twisting forth _105
Between the marble barriers which it clove
At Ripafratta, leads through the dread chasm
The wave that died the death which lovers love,
Living in what it sought; as if this spasm
Had not yet passed, the toppling mountains cling, _110
But the clear stream in full enthusiasm
Pours itself on the plain, then wandering
Down one clear path of effluence crystalline
Sends its superfluous waves, that they may fling
At Arno's feet tribute of corn and wine;
Then, through the pestilential deserts wild
Of tangled marsh and woods of stunted pine,
It rushes to the Ocean.
NOTES:
_58-_61 List, my dear fellow, the breeze blows fair;
How it scatters Dominic's long black hair!
Singing of us, and our lazy motions,
If I can guess a boat's emotions. '--editions 1824, 1839.
_61-_67 Rossetti places these lines conjecturally between lines 51 and 52.
_61-_65 'are evidently an alternative version of 48-51' (A. C. Bradley).
_95, _96 and stems The tempest of the wanting in editions 1824, 1839.
_112 then Boscombe manuscript; until editions 1824, 1839
_114 superfluous Boscombe manuscript; clear editions 1824, 1839.
_117 pine Boscombe manuscript; fir editions 1824, 1839.
***
MUSIC.
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824. ]
1.
I pant for the music which is divine,
My heart in its thirst is a dying flower;
Pour forth the sound like enchanted wine,
Loosen the notes in a silver shower;
Like a herbless plain, for the gentle rain, _5
I gasp, I faint, till they wake again.
2.
'Ay, heave the ballast overboard,
And stow the eatables in the aft locker. '
'Would not this keg be best a little lowered? ' _75
'No, now all's right. ' 'Those bottles of warm tea--
(Give me some straw)--must be stowed tenderly;
Such as we used, in summer after six,
To cram in greatcoat pockets, and to mix
Hard eggs and radishes and rolls at Eton, _80
And, couched on stolen hay in those green harbours
Farmers called gaps, and we schoolboys called arbours,
Would feast till eight. '
. . .
With a bottle in one hand,
As if his very soul were at a stand _85
Lionel stood--when Melchior brought him steady:--
'Sit at the helm--fasten this sheet--all ready! '
The chain is loosed, the sails are spread,
The living breath is fresh behind,
As with dews and sunrise fed, _90
Comes the laughing morning wind;--
The sails are full, the boat makes head
Against the Serchio's torrent fierce,
Then flags with intermitting course,
And hangs upon the wave, and stems _95
The tempest of the. . .
Which fervid from its mountain source
Shallow, smooth and strong doth come,--
Swift as fire, tempestuously
It sweeps into the affrighted sea; _100
In morning's smile its eddies coil,
Its billows sparkle, toss and boil,
Torturing all its quiet light
Into columns fierce and bright.
The Serchio, twisting forth _105
Between the marble barriers which it clove
At Ripafratta, leads through the dread chasm
The wave that died the death which lovers love,
Living in what it sought; as if this spasm
Had not yet passed, the toppling mountains cling, _110
But the clear stream in full enthusiasm
Pours itself on the plain, then wandering
Down one clear path of effluence crystalline
Sends its superfluous waves, that they may fling
At Arno's feet tribute of corn and wine;
Then, through the pestilential deserts wild
Of tangled marsh and woods of stunted pine,
It rushes to the Ocean.
NOTES:
_58-_61 List, my dear fellow, the breeze blows fair;
How it scatters Dominic's long black hair!
Singing of us, and our lazy motions,
If I can guess a boat's emotions. '--editions 1824, 1839.
_61-_67 Rossetti places these lines conjecturally between lines 51 and 52.
_61-_65 'are evidently an alternative version of 48-51' (A. C. Bradley).
_95, _96 and stems The tempest of the wanting in editions 1824, 1839.
_112 then Boscombe manuscript; until editions 1824, 1839
_114 superfluous Boscombe manuscript; clear editions 1824, 1839.
_117 pine Boscombe manuscript; fir editions 1824, 1839.
***
MUSIC.
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824. ]
1.
I pant for the music which is divine,
My heart in its thirst is a dying flower;
Pour forth the sound like enchanted wine,
Loosen the notes in a silver shower;
Like a herbless plain, for the gentle rain, _5
I gasp, I faint, till they wake again.
2.
