3.
As a lizard with the shade
Of a trembling leaf,
Thou with sorrow art dismayed; _15
Even the sighs of grief
Reproach thee, that thou art not near,
And reproach thou wilt not hear.
4.
Let me set my mournful ditty
To a merry measure; _20
Thou wilt never come for pity,
Thou wilt come for pleasure;
Pity then will cut away
Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.
5.
I love all that thou lovest, _25
Spirit of Delight!
The fresh Earth in new leaves dressed,
And the starry night;
Autumn evening, and the morn
When the golden mists are born. _30
6.
I love snow, and all the forms
Of the radiant frost;
I love waves, and winds, and storms,
Everything almost
Which is Nature’s, and may be _35
Untainted by man’s misery.
7.
I love tranquil solitude,
And such society
As is quiet, wise, and good
Between thee and me _40
What difference? but thou dost possess
The things I seek, not love them less.
8.
I love Love—though he has wings,
And like light can flee,
But above all other things, _45
Spirit, I love thee—
Thou art love and life! Oh, come,
Make once more my heart thy home.
***
MUTABILITY.
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Posthumous Poems”, 1824.
There is a fair draft amongst the Boscombe manuscripts.]
1.
The flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow dies;
All that we wish to stay
Tempts and then flies.
What is this world’s delight? _5
Lightning that mocks the night,
Brief even as bright.