***
TO —.
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Posthumous Poems”, 1824.]
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory—
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, _5
Are heaped for the beloved’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
***
SONG.
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Posthumous Poems”, 1824.
There is a transcript in the Harvard manuscript book.]
1.
Rarely, rarely, comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day _5
’Tis since thou art fled away.
2.
How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at pain. _10
Spirit false! thou hast forgot
All but those who need thee not.