The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (ed. Hutchinson, 1914)/To Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin
TO MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT GODWIN
[Composed June, 1814. Published in Posthumous Poems, 1824.]
I
Mine eyes were dim with tears unshed;
Yes. I was firm—thus wert[1] not thou:—
My baffled looks did fear[2] yet dread
To meet thy looks—I could not know
How anxiously they sought to shine 5
With soothing pity upon mine.
Mine eyes were dim with tears unshed;
Yes. I was firm—thus wert[1] not thou:—
My baffled looks did fear[2] yet dread
To meet thy looks—I could not know
How anxiously they sought to shine 5
With soothing pity upon mine.
II
To sit and curb the soul's mute rage
Which preys upon itself alone;
To curse the life which is the cage
Of fettered grief that dares not groan, 10
Hiding from many a careless eye
The scornèd load of agony.
To sit and curb the soul's mute rage
Which preys upon itself alone;
To curse the life which is the cage
Of fettered grief that dares not groan, 10
Hiding from many a careless eye
The scornèd load of agony.
III
Whilst thou alone, then not regarded,
Thethou alone should be,
To spend years thus, and be rewarded, 15
As thou, sweet love, requited me
When none were near—Oh! I did wake
From torture for that moment's sake.
Whilst thou alone, then not regarded,
Thethou alone should be,
To spend years thus, and be rewarded, 15
As thou, sweet love, requited me
When none were near—Oh! I did wake
From torture for that moment's sake.
IV
Upon my heart thy accents sweet
Of peace and pity fell like dew 20
On flowers half dead;—thy lips did meet
Mine tremblingly; thy dark eyes threw
Their[3] soft persuasion on my brain,
Charming away its dream of pain.
Upon my heart thy accents sweet
Of peace and pity fell like dew 20
On flowers half dead;—thy lips did meet
Mine tremblingly; thy dark eyes threw
Their[3] soft persuasion on my brain,
Charming away its dream of pain.
V
We are not happy, sweet! our state
Is strange and full of doubt and fear; 26
More need of words that ills abate;—
Reserve or censure come not near
Our sacred friendship, lest there be
No solace left for thee[4] and me. 30
We are not happy, sweet! our state
Is strange and full of doubt and fear; 26
More need of words that ills abate;—
Reserve or censure come not near
Our sacred friendship, lest there be
No solace left for thee[4] and me. 30