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To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite; To forgive wrongs darker than death or
night; To defy Power, which seems omnipo
Oh, weep for Adonais-he is dead! Wake, melancholy Mother, wake and
weep! Yet wherefore? Quench within their
burning bed Thy fiery tears, and let thy loud heart
keep Like his, a mute and uncomplaining
For he is gone where all things wise and Died on the promise of the fruit, is fair
waste; Descend;-oh, dream not that the The broken lily lies—the storm is overpast. amorous Deep
25 Will yet restore him to the vital air; To hat high Capital, where kingly Death feeds on his mute voice, and laughs Death
55 at our despair.
Keeps his pale court in beauty and
decay, Most musical of mourners, weep again! He came; and bought, with price of Lament anew, Urania !-He died,
purest breath, Who was the Sire of an immortal strain, A grave among the eternal.—Come Blind, old, and lonely, when his coun- away! try's pride,
31 Haste, while the vault of blue Italian The priest, the slave, and the liberticide, day Trampled and mocked with many a Is yet his fitting charnel-roof! while loathèd rite
60 Of lust and blood; he went, unterrified, He lies, as if in dewy sleep he lay; Into the gulf of death; but his clear Awake him not! surely he takes his fill Sprite
35 Of deep and liquid rest, forgetful of all ill. Yet reigns o'er earth; the third among the sons of light.
He will awake no more, oh, never
more! Most musical of mourners, weep anew! Within the twilight chamber spreads Not all to that bright station dared to apace,
The shadow of white Death, and at the And happier they their happiness who door knew,
Invisible Corruption waits to trace Whose tapers yet burn through that His extreme way to her dim dwellingnight of time
40 place; In which suns perished; others more The eternal Hunger sits, but pity and awe sublime,
Soothe her pale rage, nor dares she to Struck by the envious wrath of man or deface
So fair a prey, till darkness, and the law Have sunk, extinct in their refulgent Of change, shall o'er his sleep the mortal prime;
curtain draw. And some yet live, treading the thorny road,
Oh, weep for Adonais!—The quick Which leads, through toil and hate, to Dreams, Fame's serene abode.
45 The passion-wingèd Ministers of
thought, But now, thy youngest, dearest one has Who were his flocks, whom near the perished,
75 The nursling of thy widowhood, who Of his young spirit he fed, and whom grew,
he taught Like a pale flower by some sad maiden The love which was its music, wander cherished,
not, And fed with true love tears, instead Wander no more, from kindling brain of dew;
to brain, Most musical of mourners, weep anew!
But droop there, whence they sprung; Thy extremel hope, the loveliest and and mourn their lot the last,
Round the cold heart, where, after The bloom, whose petals, nipped be- their sweet pain,
80 fore they blew,
They ne'er will gather strength, or find
a home again.
And one with trembling hands clasps Splendours, and Glooms, and glimmerhis cold head,
ing Incarnations And fans him with her moonlight Of hopes and fears, and twilight Phanwings, and cries:
tasies; “Our love, our hope, our sorrow, is And Sorrow, with her family of Sighs, not dead;
And Pleasure, blind with tears, led by See, on the silken fringe of his faint the gleam eyes,
85 Of her own dying smile instead of eyes, Like dew upon a sleeping flower, there Came in slow pomp;—the moving lies
pomp might seem
116 A tear some Dream has loosened from Like pageantry of mist on an autumnal his brain."
stream. Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise! She knew not 'twas her own; as with All he had loved, and moulded into no stain
thought, She faded, like a cloud which had outwept From shape, and hue, and odor, and its rain.
Lamented Adonais. Morning sought One from a lucid urn of starry dew Her eastern watch-tower, and her hair Washed his light limbs as if embalming unbound, them;
Wet with the tears which should adorn Another clipped her profuse locks, and the ground, threw
Dimmed the aërial eyes that kindle day; The wreath upon him, like an anadem, Afar the melancholy thunder moaned; Which frozen tears instead of pearls Pale Ocean in unquiet slumber lay; 125 begem;
And the wild winds flew round, sobbing in Another in her wilful grief would break their dismay. Her bow and winged reeds, as if to stem
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless A greater loss with one which was more mountains, weak;
And feeds her grief with his remembered And dull the barbèd fire against his lay, frozen cheek.
And will no more reply to winds or
fountains, Another Splendor on his mouth alit, 100 Or amorous birds perched on the young That mouth, whence it was wont to green spray,
130 draw the breath
Or herdsman's horn, or bell at closing Which gave it strength to pierce the day; guarded wit,
Since she can mimic not his lips, more And pass into the panting heart beneath dear With lightning and with music: the Than those for whose disdain she damp death
pined away Quenched its caress upon his icy lips; Into a shadow of all sounds:-a drear And, as a dying meteor stains a wreath Murmur, between their songs, is all the Of moonlight vapor, which the cold woodmen hear.
135 night clips, It flushed through his pale limbs, and Grief made the young Spring wild, and passed to its eclipse.
she threw down
Her kindling buds, as if she Autumn And others came ... Desires and Ad- were, orations,
Or they dead leaves; since her delight Winged Persuasions and veiled Desti- is flown, nies,
For whom should she have waked the 1 chaplet.
Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone, But grief returns with the revolving
year; The airs and streams renew their joy
ous tone; The ants, the bees, the swallows re
appear; Fresh leaves and flowers deck the dead
Seasons' bier; The amorous birds now pair in every
brake, And build their mossy homes in field and brere;?
160 And the green lizard, and the golden
snake, Like unimprisoned flames, out of their
Alas! that all we loved of him should be, But for our grief, as if it had not been, And grief itself be mortal! Woe is me! Whence are we, and why are we? of
what scene The actors or spectators? Great and Meet massed in death, who lends what life must borrow.
186 As long as skies are blue, and fields are
green, Evening must usher night, night urge
the morrow, Month follow month with woe, and year
wake year to sorrow.
Through wood and stream and field and
hill and ocean A quickening life from the Earth's heart
has burst As it has ever done, with change and
motion From the great morning of the world
He will awake no more, oh, never more! “Wake thou,” cried Misery, “childless Mother, rise
191 Out of thy sleep, and slake, in thy heart's
core, A wound more fierce than his with tears and sighs.”