1.
That time is dead for ever, child!
Drowned, frozen, dead for ever!
We look on the past
And stare aghast
At the spectres wailing, pale and ghast, _5
Of hopes which thou and I beguiled
To death on life’s dark river.
2.
The stream we gazed on then rolled by;
Its waves are unreturning;
But we yet stand _10
In a lone land,
Like tombs to mark the memory
Of hopes and fears, which fade and flee
In the light of life’s dim morning.
***
DEATH.
[Published by Mrs. Shelley in “Posthumous Poems”, 1824.]
1.
They die—the dead return not—Misery
Sits near an open grave and calls them over,
A Youth with hoary hair and haggard eye—
They are the names of kindred, friend and lover,
Which he so feebly calls—they all are gone— _5
Fond wretch, all dead! those vacant names alone,
This most familiar scene, my pain—
These tombs—alone remain.
2.
Misery, my sweetest friend—oh, weep no more!
Thou wilt not be consoled—I wonder not! _10
For I have seen thee from thy dwelling’s door
Watch the calm sunset with them, and this spot
Was even as bright and calm, but transitory,
And now thy hopes are gone, thy hair is hoary;
This most familiar scene, my pain— _15
These tombs—alone remain.
NOTE: _5 calls editions 1839; called 1824.
***