[Published by Mr. C.D. Locock, "Examination", etc., 1903.]
The death knell is ringing
The raven is singing
The earth worm is creeping
The mourners are weeping
Ding dong, bell— _5
***
FRAGMENT: 'I STOOD UPON A HEAVEN-CLEAVING TURRET'.
I stood upon a heaven-cleaving turret
Which overlooked a wide Metropolis—
And in the temple of my heart my Spirit
Lay prostrate, and with parted lips did kiss
The dust of Desolations [altar] hearth— _5
And with a voice too faint to falter
It shook that trembling fane with its weak prayer
'Twas noon,—the sleeping skies were blue
The city
***
NOTE ON POEMS OF 1821, BY MRS. SHELLEY.
My task becomes inexpressibly painful as the year draws near that which sealed our earthly fate, and each poem, and each event it records, has a real or mysterious connection with the fatal catastrophe. I feel that I am incapable of putting on paper the history of those times. The heart of the man, abhorred of the poet, who could
'peep and botanize Upon his mother's grave,'
does not appear to me more inexplicably framed than that of one who can dissect and probe past woes, and repeat to the public ear the groans drawn from them in the throes of their agony.