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Of some fierce Mænad, even from the dim verge
Of the dying year, to which this closing night
Of vapors, from whose solid atmosphere
Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
Beside a pumice isle in Baia's bay,
All overgrown with azure moss and flowers
Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below
Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear,
If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
The impulse of thy strength, only less free
The comrade of thy wanderings over heaven,
As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.
A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.
Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,
Drive my dead thoughts over the universe
Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth
The trumpet of a prophecy! O wind,
Percy Bysshe Shelley
205 HYMN TO THE EARTH, MOTHER OF ALL'
UNIVERSAL mother, who dost keep
From everlasting thy foundations deep, Eldest of things, Great Earth, I sing of thee; All shapes that have their dwelling in the sea, All things that fly, or on the ground divine Live, move, and there are nourished—these are thine; These from thy wealth thou dost sustain; from thee Fair babes are born, and fruits on every tree Hang ripe and large, revered Divinity!
The life of mortal men beneath thy sway
1 Translated by Percy Bysshe Shelley.
Leap round them sporting-such delights by thee
Mother of gods, thou wife of starry Heaven,
THE SEA 1
WILL go back to the great sweet mother,
Mother and lover of men, the sea.
Close with her, kiss her, and mix her with me;
Set free my soul as thy soul is free.
O fair green-girdled mother of mine,
Sea, that art clothed with the sun and the rain,
Thy large embraces are keen like pain!
Wrought without hand in a world without stain.
I shall sleep, and move with the moving ships,
Change as the winds change, veer in the tide;
I shall rise with thy rising, with thee subside;
1 From The Triumph of Time.
Sleep, and not know if she be, if she were,
With splendid summer and perfume and pride.
This woven raiment of nights and days,
Were it once cast off and unwound from me,
Alive and aware of thy waves and thee;
Algernon Charles Swinburne
ROM Stirling Castle we had seen
The mazy Forth unraveled,
And with the Tweed had traveled;
Then said my "winsome Marrow,"
And see the Braes of Yarrow.”
“Let Yarrow folk, frae Selkirk town,
Who have been buying, selling,
Each maiden to her dwelling!
Hares couch, and rabbits burrow,