Shelley possessed two remarkable qualities of intellect — a brilliant imagination, and a logical exactness of reason. His inclinations led him (he fancied) almost alike to poetry and metaphysical discussions. I say ‘he fancied,’ because I believe the former to have been paramount, and that it would have gained the mastery even had he struggled against it. However, he said that he deliberated at one time whether he should dedicate himself to poetry or metaphysics; and, resolving on the former, he educated himself for it, discarding in a great measure his philosophical pursuits, and engaging himself in the study of the poets of Greece, Italy, and England. To these may be added a constant perusal of portions of the old Testament — the Psalms, the Book of Job, the Prophet Isaiah, and others, the sublime poetry of which filled him with delight.
As a poet, his intellect and compositions were powerfully influenced by exterior circumstances, and especially by his place of abode. He was very fond of travelling, and ill-health increased this restlessness. The sufferings occasioned by a cold English winter made him pine, especially when our colder spring arrived, for a more genial climate. In 1816 he again visited Switzerland, and rented a house on the banks of the Lake of Geneva; and many a day, in cloud or sunshine, was passed alone in his boat — sailing as the wind listed, or weltering on the calm waters. The majestic aspect of Nature ministered such thoughts as he afterwards enwove in verse. His lines on the Bridge of the Arve, and his “Hymn to Intellectual Beauty”, were written at this time. Perhaps during this summer his genius was checked by association with another poet whose nature was utterly dissimilar to his own, yet who, in the poem he wrote at that time, gave tokens that he shared for a period the more abstract and etherealised inspiration of Shelley. The saddest events awaited his return to England; but such was his fear to wound the feelings of others that he never expressed the anguish he felt, and seldom gave vent to the indignation roused by the persecutions he underwent; while the course of deep unexpressed passion, and the sense of injury, engendered the desire to embody themselves in forms defecated of all the weakness and evil which cling to real life.
He chose therefore for his hero a youth nourished in dreams of liberty, some of whose actions are in direct opposition to the opinions of the world; but who is animated throughout by an ardent love of virtue, and a resolution to confer the boons of political and intellectual freedom on his fellow-creatures. He created for this youth a woman such as he delighted to imagine — full of enthusiasm for the same objects; and they both, with will unvanquished, and the deepest sense of the justice of their cause, met adversity and death. There exists in this poem a memorial of a friend of his youth. The character of the old man who liberates Laon from his tower prison, and tends on him in sickness, is founded on that of Doctor Lind, who, when Shelley was at Eton, had often stood by to befriend and support him, and whose name he never mentioned without love and veneration.
During the year 1817 we were established at Marlow in Buckinghamshire. Shelley’s choice of abode was fixed chiefly by this town being at no great distance from London, and its neighbourhood to the Thames. The poem was written in his boat, as it floated under the beech groves of Bisham, or during wanderings in the neighbouring country, which is distinguished for peculiar beauty. The chalk hills break into cliffs that overhang the Thames, or form valleys clothed with beech; the wilder portion of the country is rendered beautiful by exuberant vegetation; and the cultivated part is peculiarly fertile. With all this wealth of Nature which, either in the form of gentlemen’s parks or soil dedicated to agriculture, flourishes around, Marlow was inhabited (I hope it is altered now) by a very poor population. The women are lacemakers, and lose their health by sedentary labour, for which they were very ill paid. The Poor-laws ground to the dust not only the paupers, but those who had risen just above that state, and were obliged to pay poor-rates. The changes produced by peace following a long war, and a bad harvest, brought with them the most heart-rending evils to the poor. Shelley afforded what alleviation he could. In the winter, while bringing out his poem, he had a severe attack of ophthalmia, caught while visiting the poor cottages. I mention these things — for this minute and active sympathy with his fellow-creatures gives a thousandfold interest to his speculations, and stamps with reality his pleadings for the human race.
The poem, bold in its opinions and uncompromising in their expression, met with many censurers, not only among those who allow of no virtue but such as supports the cause they espouse, but even among those whose opinions were similar to his own. I extract a portion of a letter written in answer to one of these friends. It best details the impulses of Shelley’s mind, and his motives: it was written with entire unreserve; and is therefore a precious monument of his own opinion of his powers, of the purity of his designs, and the ardour with which he clung, in adversity and through the valley of the shadow of death, to views from which he believed the permanent happiness of mankind must eventually spring.
‘Marlowe, December 11, 1817.
‘I have read and considered all that you say about my general powers, and the particular instance of the poem in which I have attempted to develop them. Nothing can be more satisfactory to me than the interest which your admonitions express. But I think you are mistaken in some points with regard to the peculiar nature of my powers, whatever be their amount. I listened with deference and self-suspicion to your censures of “The Revolt of Islam”; but the productions of mine which you commend hold a very low place in my own esteem; and this reassures me, in some degree at least. The poem was produced by a series of thoughts which filled my mind with unbounded and sustained enthusiasm. I felt the precariousness of my life, and I engaged in this task, resolved to leave some record of myself. Much of what the volume contains was written with the same feeling — as real, though not so prophetic — as the communications of a dying man. I never presumed indeed to consider it anything approaching to faultless; but, when I consider contemporary productions of the same apparent pretensions, I own I was filled with confidence. I felt that it was in many respects a genuine picture of my own mind. I felt that the sentiments were true, not assumed. And in this have I long believed that my power consists; in sympathy, and that part of the imagination which relates to sentiment and contemplation. I am formed, if for anything not in common with the herd of mankind, to apprehend minute and remote distinctions of feeling, whether relative to external nature or the living beings which surround us, and to communicate the conceptions which result from considering either the moral or the material universe as a whole. Of course, I believe these faculties, which perhaps comprehend all that is sublime in man, to exist very imperfectly in my own mind. But, when you advert to my Chancery-paper, a cold, forced, unimpassioned, insignificant piece of cramped and cautious argument, and to the little scrap about “Mandeville”, which expressed my feelings indeed, but cost scarcely two minutes’ thought to express, as specimens of my powers more favourable than that which grew as it were from “the agony and bloody sweat” of intellectual travail; surely I must feel that, in some manner, either I am mistaken in believing that I have any talent at all, or you in the selection of the specimens of it. Yet, after all, I cannot but be conscious, in much of what I write, of an absence of that tranquillity which is the attribute and accompaniment of power. This feeling alone would make your most kind and wise admonitions, on the subject of the economy of intellectual force, valuable to me. And, if I live, or if I see any trust in coming years, doubt not but that I shall do something, whatever it may be, which a serious and earnest estimate of my powers will suggest to me, and which will be in every respect accommodated to their utmost limits.
[Shelley to Godwin.]
1. The revised text (1818) of this poem is given here, as being that which Shelley actually published. In order to reconvert the text of “The Revolt of Islam” into that of “Laon and Cythna”, the reader must make the following alterations in the text. At the end of the “Preface” add:—
‘In the personal conduct of my Hero and Heroine, there is one circumstance which was intended to startle the reader from the trance of ordinary life. It was my object to break through the crust of those outworn opinions on which established institutions depend. I have appealed therefore to the most universal of all feelings, and have endeavoured to strengthen the moral sense, by forbidding it to waste its energies in seeking to avoid actions which are only crimes of convention. It is because there is so great a multitude of artificial vices that there are so few real virtues. Those feelings alone which are benevolent or malevolent, are essentially good or bad. The circumstance of which I speak was introduced, however, merely to accustom men to that charity and toleration which the exhibition of a practice widely differing from their own has a tendency to promote. (The sentiments connected with and characteristic of this circumstance have no personal reference to the Writer. —[Shelley’s Note.]) Nothing indeed can be more mischievous than many actions, innocent in themselves, which might bring down upon individuals the bigoted contempt and rage of the multitude.’
2 21 1:
I had a little sister whose fair eyes
2 25 2:
To love in human life, this sister sweet,
3 1 1:
What thoughts had sway over my sister’s slumber
3 1 3:
As if they did ten thousand years outnumber
4 30 6:
And left it vacant —’twas her brother’s face —
5 47 5:
I had a brother once, but he is dead! —
6 24 8:
My own sweet sister looked), with joy did quail,
6 31 6:
The common blood which ran within our frames,
6 39 6–9:
With such close sympathies, for to each other
Had high and solemn hopes, the gentle might
Of earliest love, and all the thoughts which smother
Cold Evil’s power, now linked a sister and a brother.
6 40 1:
And such is Nature’s modesty, that those
8 4 9:
Dream ye that God thus builds for man in solitude?
8 5 1:
What then is God? Ye mock yourselves and give
8 6 1:
What then is God? Some moonstruck sophist stood
8 6 8, 9:
And that men say God has appointed Death
On all who scorn his will to wreak immortal wrath.
8 7 1–4:
Men say they have seen God, and heard from God,
Or known from others who have known such things,
And that his will is all our law, a rod
To scourge us into slaves — that Priests and Kings
8 8 1:
And it is said, that God will punish wrong;
8 8 3, 4:
And his red hell’s undying snakes among
Will bind the wretch on whom he fixed a stain
8 13 3, 4:
For it is said God rules both high and low,
And man is made the captive of his brother;
9 13 8:
To curse the rebels. To their God did they
9 14 6:
By God, and Nature, and Necessity.
9 15. The stanza contains ten lines — lines 4–7 as follows:
There was one teacher, and must ever be,
They said, even God, who, the necessity
Of rule and wrong had armed against mankind,
His slave and his avenger there to be;
9 18 3–6:
And Hell and Awe, which in the heart of man
Is God itself; the Priests its downfall knew,
As day by day their altars lovelier grew,
Till they were left alone within the fane;
10 22 9:
On fire! Almighty God his hell on earth has spread!
10 26 7, 8:
Of their Almighty God, the armies wind
In sad procession: each among the train
10 28 1:
O God Almighty! thou alone hast power.
10 31 1:
And Oromaze, and Christ, and Mahomet,
10 32 1:
He was a Christian Priest from whom it came
10 32 4:
To quell the rebel Atheists; a dire guest
10 32 9:
To wreak his fear of God in vengeance on mankind
10 34 5, 6:
His cradled Idol, and the sacrifice
Of God to God’s own wrath — that Islam’s creed
10 35 9:
And thrones, which rest on faith in God, nigh overturned.
10 39 4:
Of God may be appeased. He ceased, and they
10 40 5:
With storms and shadows girt, sate God, alone,
10 44 9:
As ‘hush! hark! Come they yet?
God, God, thine hour is near!’
10 45 8:
Men brought their atheist kindred to appease
10 47 6:
The threshold of God’s throne, and it was she!
11 16 1:
Ye turn to God for aid in your distress;
11 25 7:
Swear by your dreadful God.’—‘We swear, we swear!’
12 10 9:
Truly for self, thus thought that Christian Priest indeed,
12 11 9:
A woman? God has sent his other victim here.
12 12 6–8:
Will I stand up before God’s golden throne,
And cry, ‘O Lord, to thee did I betray
An Atheist; but for me she would have known
12 29 4:
In torment and in fire have Atheists gone;
12 30 4:
How Atheists and Republicans can die;
2. Aught but a lifeless clod, until revived by thee (Dedic. 6 9).
So Rossetti; the Shelley editions, 1818 and 1839, read clog, which is retained by Forman, Dowden, and Woodberry. Rossetti’s happy conjecture, clod, seems to Forman ‘a doubtful emendation, as Shelley may have used clog in its [figurative] sense of weight, encumbrance.’— Hardly, as here, in a poetical figure: that would be to use a metaphor within a metaphor. Shelley compares his heart to a concrete object: if clog is right, the word must be taken in one or other of its two recognized LITERAL senses —‘a wooden shoe,’ or ‘a block of wood tied round the neck or to the leg of a horse or a dog.’ Again, it is of others’ hearts, not of his own, that Shelley here deplores the icy coldness and weight; besides, how could he appropriately describe his heart as a weight or encumbrance upon the free play of impulse and emotion, seeing that for Shelley, above all men, the heart was itself the main source and spring of all feeling and action? That source, he complains, has been dried up — its emotions desiccated — by the crushing impact of other hearts, heavy, hard and cold as stone. His heart has become withered and barren, like a lump of earth parched with frost —‘a lifeless clod.’ Compare “Summer and Winter”, lines 11–15:—
‘It was a winter such as when birds die
In the deep forests; and the fishes lie
Stiffened in the translucent ice, which makes
Even the mud and slime of the warm lakes
A wrinkled clod as hard as brick;’ etc., etc.
The word revived suits well with clod; but what is a revived clog? Finally, the first two lines of the following stanza (7) seem decisive in favour of Roseetti’s word.
If any one wonders how a misprint overlooked in 1818 could, after twenty-one years, still remain undiscovered in 1839, let him consider the case of clog in Lamb’s parody on Southey’s and Coleridge’s “Dactyls” (Lamb, “Letter to Coleridge”, July 1, 1796):—
Sorely your Dactyls do drag along limp-footed;
Sad is the measure that hangs a clog round ’em so, etc., etc.
Here the misprint, clod, which in 1868 appeared in Moxon’s edition of the “Letters of Charles Lamb”, has through five successive editions and under many editors — including Fitzgerald, Ainger, and Macdonald — held its ground even to the present day; and this, notwithstanding the preservation of the true reading, clog, in the texts of Talfourd and Carew Hazlitt. Here then is the case of a palpable misprint surviving, despite positive external evidence of its falsity, over a period of thirty-six years.
3. And walked as free, etc. (Ded. 7 6).
Walked is one of Shelley’s occasional grammatical laxities. Forman well observes that walkedst, the right word here, would naturally seem to Shelley more heinous than a breach of syntactic rule. Rossetti and, after him, Dowden print walk. Forman and Woodberry follow the early texts.
4. 1 9 1–7. Here the text follows the punctuation of the editio princeps, 1818, with two exceptions: a comma is inserted (1) after scale (line 201), on the authority of the Bodleian manuscript (Locock); and (2) after neck (line 205), to indicate the true construction. Mrs. Shelley’s text, 1839, has a semicolon after plumes (line 203), which Rossetti adopts. Forman (1892) departs from the pointing of Shelley’s edition here, placing a period at the close of line 199, and a dash after blended (line 200).
5. What life, what power, was, etc. (1 11 1.)
The editio princeps, 1818, wants the commas here.
. . . and now
We are embarked — the mountains hang and frown
Over the starry deep that gleams below,
A vast and dim expanse, as o’er the waves we go. (1 23 6–9.)
With Woodberry I substitute after embarked (7) a dash for the comma of the editio princeps; with Rossetti I restore to below (8) a comma which I believe to have been overlooked by the printer of that edition. Shelley’s meaning I take to be that ‘a vast and dim expanse of mountain hangs frowning over the starry deep that gleams below it as we pass over the waves.’
7. As King, and Lord, and God, the conquering Fiend did own — (1 28 9.) So Forman (1892), Dowden; the editio princeps, has a full stop at the close of the line — where, according to Mr. Locock, no point appears in the Bodleian manuscript.
8. Black-winged demon forms, etc. (1 30 7.)
The Bodleian manuscript exhibits the requisite hyphen here, and in golden-pinioned (32 2).
9. 1 31 2, 6. The ‘three-dots’ point, employed by Shelley to indicate a pause longer than that of a full stop, is introduced into these two lines on the authority of the Bodleian manuscript. In both cases it replaces a dash in the editio princeps. See list of punctual variations below. Mr. Locock reports the presence in the manuscript of what he justly terms a ‘characteristic’ comma after Soon (31 2).
10. . . . mine shook beneath the wide emotion. (1 38 9.)
For emotion the Bodleian manuscript has commotion (Locock)— perhaps the fitter word here.
11. Deep slumber fell on me:— my dreams were fire — (1 40 1.)
The dash after fire is from the Bodleian manuscript — where, moreover, the somewhat misleading but indubitably Shelleyan comma after passion (editio princeps, 40 4) is wanting (Locock). I have added a dash to the comma after cover (40 5) in order to clarify the sense.
12. And shared in fearless deeds with evil men, (1 44 4.)
With Forman and Dowden I substitute here a comma for the full stop of the editio princeps. See also list of punctual variations below (stanza 44).
13. The Spirit whom I loved, in solitude Sustained his child: (1 45 4, 5.) The comma here, important as marking the sense as well as the rhythm of the passage, is derived from the Bodleian manuscript (Locock).
I looked, and we were sailing pleasantly,
Swift as a cloud between the sea and sky;
Beneath the rising moon seen far away,
Mountains of ice, etc. (1 47 4–7.)
The editio princeps has a comma after sky (5) and a semicolon after away (6)— a pointing followed by Forman, Dowden, and Woodberry. By transposing these points (as in our text), however, a much better sense is obtained; and, luckily, this better sense proves to be that yielded by the Bodleian manuscript, where, Mr. Locock reports, there is a semicolon after sky (5), a comma after moon (6), and no point whatsoever after away (6).
15. Girt by the deserts of the Universe; (1 50 4.)
So the Bodleian manuscript, anticipated by Woodberry (1893). Rossetti (1870) had substituted a comma for the period of editio princeps.
Hymns which my soul had woven to Freedom, strong
The source of passion, whence they rose, to be;
Triumphant strains, which, etc. (2 28 6–8.)
The editio princeps, followed by Forman, has passion whence (7). Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works” 1839, both editions, prints: strong The source of passion, whence they rose to be Triumphant strains, which, etc.
17. But, pale, were calm with passion — thus subdued, etc. (2 49 6.)
With Rossetti, Dowden, Woodberry, I add a comma after But to the pointing of the editio princeps. Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, both editions, prints: But pale, were calm. — With passion thus subdued, etc.
18. Methought that grate was lifted, etc. (3 25 1.)
Shelley’s and Mrs. Shelley’s editions have gate, which is retained by Forman. But cf. 3 14 2, 7. Dowden and Woodberry follow Rossetti in printing grate.
19. Where her own standard, etc. (4 24 5.)
So Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, both editions.
20. Beneath whose spires, which swayed in the red flame, (5 54 6.)
Shelley’s and Mrs. Shelley’s editions (1818, 1839) give red light here — an oversight perpetuated by Forman, the rhyme-words name (8) and frame (9) notwithstanding. With Rossetti, Dowden, Woodberry, I print red flame — an obvious emendation proposed by Fleay.
— when the waves smile,
As sudden earthquakes light many a volcano-isle,
Thus sudden, unexpected feast was spread, etc. (6 7 8, 9; 8 1.)
With Forman, Dowden, Woodberry, I substitute after isle (7 9) a comma for the full stop of editions 1818, 1839 (retained by Rossetti). The passage is obscure: perhaps Shelley wrote ‘lift many a volcano-isle.’ The plain becomes studded in an instant with piles of corpses, even as the smiling surface of the sea will sometimes become studded in an instant with many islands uplifted by a sudden shock of earthquake.
22. 7 7 2–6. The editio princeps punctuates thus:—
and words it gave
Gestures and looks, such as in whirlwinds bore
Which might not be withstood, whence none could save
All who approached their sphere, like some calm wave
Vexed into whirlpools by the chasms beneath;
This punctuation is retained by Forman; Rossetti, Dowden, Woodberry, place a comma after gave (2) and Gestures (3), and — adopting the suggestion of Mr. A.C. Bradley — enclose line 4 (Which might . . . could save) in parentheses; thus construing which might not be withstood and whence none could save as adjectival clauses qualifying whirlwinds (3), and taking bore (3) as a transitive verb governing All who approached their sphere (5). This, which I believe to be the true construction, is perhaps indicated quite as clearly by the pointing adopted in the text — a pointing moreover which, on metrical grounds, is, I think, preferable to that proposed by Mr. Bradley. I have added a dash to the comma after sphere (5), to indicate that it is Cythna herself (and not All who approached, etc.) that resembles some calm wave, etc.
Which dwell in lakes, when the red moon on high
Pause ere it wakens tempest; — (7 22 6, 7.)
Here when the moon Pause is clearly irregular, but it appears in editions 1818, 1839, and is undoubtedly Shelley’s phrase. Rossetti cites a conjectural emendation by a certain ‘C.D. Campbell, Mauritius’:— which the red moon on high Pours eve it wakens tempest; but cf. “Julian and Maddalo”, lines 53, 54:—
Meanwhile the sun paused ere it should alight,
Over the horizon of the mountains.
— and “Prince Athanase”, lines 220, 221:—
When the curved moon then lingering in the west
Paused, in yon waves her mighty horns to wet, etc.
— time imparted
Such power to me — I became fearless-hearted, etc. (7 30 4, 5.)
With Woodberry I replace with a dash the comma (editio princeps) after me (5)retained by Forman, deleted by Rossetti and Dowden. Shelley’s (and Forman’s) punctuation leaves the construction ambiguous; with Woodberry’s the two clauses are seen to be parallel — the latter being appositive to and explanatory of the former; while with Dowden’s the clauses are placed in correlation: time imparted such power to me that I became fearless-hearted.
25. Of love, in that lorn solitude, etc. (7 32 7.)
All editions prior to 1876 have lone solitude, etc. The important emendation lorn was first introduced into the text by Forman, from Shelley’s revised copy of “Laon and Cythna”, where lone is found to be turned into lorn by the poet’s own hand.
26. And Hate is throned on high with Fear her mother, etc. (8 13 5.)
So the editio princeps; Forman, Dowden, Woodberry, following the text of “Laon and Cythna”, 1818, read, Fear his mother. Forman refers to 10 42 4, 5, where Fear figures as a female, and Hate as ‘her mate and foe.’ But consistency in such matters was not one of Shelley’s characteristics, and there seems to be no need for alteration here. Mrs. Shelley (1839) and Rossetti follow the editio princeps.
The ship fled fast till the stars ‘gan to fail,
And, round me gathered, etc. (8 26 5, 6.)
The editio princeps has no comma after And (6). Mrs. Shelley (1839) places a full stop at fail (5) and reads, All round me gathered, etc.
28. Words which the lore of truth in hues of flame, etc. (9 12 6.)
The editio princeps, followed by Rossetti and Woodberry, has hues of grace [cf. note (20) above]; Forman and Dowden read hues of flame. For instances of a rhyme-word doing double service, see 9 34 6, 9 (thee . . . thee); 6 3 2, 4 (arms . . . arms); 10 5 1, 3 (came . . . came).
29. Led them, thus erring, from their native land; (10 5 6.)
Editions 1818, 1839 read home for land here. All modern editors adopt Fleay’s cj., land [rhyming with band (8), sand (9)].
30. 11 11 7. Rossetti and Dowden, following Mrs. Shelley (1839), print writhed here.
31. When the broad sunrise, etc. (12 34 3.)
When is Rossetti’s cj. (accepted by Dowden) for Where (1818, 1839), which Forman and Woodberry retain. In 11 24 1, 12 15 2 and 12 28 7 there is Forman’s cj. for then (1818).
a golden mist did quiver
Where its wild surges with the lake were blended — (12 40 3, 4.)
Where is Rossetti’s cj. (accepted by Forman and Dowden) for When (editions 1818, 1839; Woodberry). See also list of punctual variations below.
33. Our bark hung there, as on a line suspended, etc. (12 40 5.)
Here on a line is Rossetti’s cj. (accepted by all editors) for one line (editions 1818, 1839). See also list of punctual variations below.
Obvious errors of the press excepted, our text reproduces the punctuation of Shelley’s edition (1818), save where the sense is likely to be perverted or obscured thereby. The following list shows where the pointing of the text varies from that of the editio princeps (1818) which is in every instance recorded here.
DEDICATION, 7. long. (9).
9. scale (3), neck (7).
11. What life what power (1).
22. boat, (8), lay (9).
23. embarked, (7), below A vast (8, 9).
26. world (1), chaos: Lo! (2).
28. life: (2), own. (9).
29. mirth, (6).
30. language (2), But, when (5).
31. foundations — soon (2), war — thrones (6), multitude, (7).
32. flame, (4).
33. lightnings (3), truth, (5), brood, (5), hearts, (8).
34. Fiend (6).
35. keep (8).
37. mountains — (8).
38. unfold, (1), woe: (4), show, (5).
39. gladness, (6) 40 fire, (1), cover, (5), far (6).
42. kiss. (9).
43. But (5).
44. men. (4), fame; (7).
45. loved (4).
47. sky, (5), away (6).
49. dream, (2), floods. (9).
50. Universe. (4), language (6).
54. blind. (4).
57. mine — He (8).
58. said — (5).
60. tongue, (9).
1. which (4).
3. Yet flattering power had (7).
4. lust, (6).
6. kind, (2).
11. Nor, (2).
13. ruin. (3), trust. (9).
18. friend (3).
22. thought, (6), fancies (7).
24. radiancy, (3).
25. dells, (8).
26. waste, (4)
28. passion (7).
31. yet (4).
32. which (3).
33. blight (8), who (8).
37. seat; (7).
39. not —‘wherefore (1).
40. good, (5).
41. tears (7).
43. air (2).
46. fire, (3).
47. stroke, (2).
49. But (6).
1. dream, (4).
3. shown (7), That (9).
4. when, (3).
5. ever (7).
7. And (1).
16. Below (6).
19. if (4).
25. thither, (2).
26. worm (2), there, (3).
27. beautiful, (8).
28. And (1).
30. As (1).
2. fallen — We (6).
3. ray, (7).
4. sleep, (5).
8. fed (6).
10. wide; (1), sword (7).
16. chance, (7).
19. her (3), blending (8).
23. tyranny, (4).
24. unwillingly (1).
26. blood; (2).
27. around (2), as (4).
31. or (4).
33. was (5).
1. flow, (5).
2. profound — Oh, (4), veiled, (6).
3. victory (1), face — (8).
4. swim, (5)
6. spread, (2), outsprung (5), far, (6), war, (8).
8. avail (5).
10. weep; (4), tents (8).
11. lives, (8).
13. beside (1).
15. sky, (3).
17. love (4).
20. Which (9).
22. gloom, (8).
23. King (6).
27. known, (4).
33. ye? (1), Othman — (3).
34. pure — (7).
35. people (1).
36. where (3).
38. quail; (2).
39. society, (8).
40. see (1).
43. light (8), throne. (9).
50. skies, (6).
51. Image (7), isles; all (9), amaze. When (9, 10), fair. (12).
51. 1: will (15), train (15).
51. 2: wert, (5).
51. 4: brethren (1).
51. 5: steaming, (6).
55. creep. (9).
1. snapped (9).
2. gate, (2).
5. rout (4), voice, (6), looks, (6).
6. as (1).
7. prey, (1), isle. (9).
8. sight (2).
12. glen (4).
14. almost (1), dismounting (4).
15. blood (2).
21. reins:— We (3), word (3).
22. crest (6).
25. And, (1), and (9).
28. but (3), there, (8).
30. air. (9).
32. voice:— (1).
37. frames; (5).
43. mane, (2), again, (7).
48. Now (8).
51. hut, (4).
54. waste, (7).
2. was, (5).
6. dreams (3).
7. gave Gestures and (2, 3), withstood, (4), save (4), sphere, (5).
8. sent, (2).
14. taught, (6), sought, (8).
17. and (6).
18. own (5), beloved:— (5).
19. tears; (2), which, (3), appears, (5).
25. me, (1), shapes (5).
27. And (1).
28. strength (1).
30. Aye, (3), me, (5).
33. pure (9).
38. wracked; (4), cataract, (5).
2. and (2).
9. shadow (5).
11. freedom (7), blood. (9).
13. Woman, (8), bond-slave, (8).
14. pursuing (8), wretch! (9).
15. home, (3).
21. Hate, (1).
23. reply, (1).
25. fairest, (1).
26. And (6).
28. thunder (2).
4. hills, (1), brood, (6).
5. port — alas! (1).
8. grave (2).
9. with friend (3), occupations (7), overnumber, (8).
12. lair; (5), Words, (6).
15. who, (4), armed, (5), misery. (9).
17. call, (4).
20. truth (9).
22. sharest; (4).
23. Faith, (8).
28. conceive (8).
30. and as (5), hope (8).
33. thoughts:— Come (7).
34. willingly (2).
35. ceased, (8).
36. undight; (4).
2. tongue, (1).
7. conspirators (6), wolves, (8).
8. smiles, (5).
9. bands, (2)
11. file did (5).
18. but (5).
19. brought, (5).
24. food (5).
29. worshippers (3).
32. west (2).
36. foes, (5).
38. now! (2).
40. alone, (5).
41. morn — at (1).
42. below, (2).
43. deep, (7), pest (8).
44. drear (8).
47. ‘Kill me!’ they (9).
48. died, (8).
4. which, (6), eyes, (8).
5. tenderness (7).
7. return — the (8).
8. midnight — (1).
10. multitude (1).
11. cheeks (1), here (4).
12. come, give (3).
13. many (1).
14. arrest, (4), terror, (6).
19. thus (1).
20. Stranger: ‘What (5).
23. People: (7).
3. and like (7).
7. away (7).
8. Fairer it seems than (7).
10. self, (9).
11. divine (2), beauty — (3).
12. own. (9).
14. fear, (1), choose, (4).
17. death? the (1).
19. radiance (3).
22. spake; (5).
25. thee beloved; — (8).
26. towers (6).
28. repent, (2).
29. withdrawn, (2).
31. stood a winged Thought (1).
32. gossamer, (6).
33. stream (1).
34. sunrise, (3), gold, (3), quiver, (4).
35. abode, (4).
37. wonderful; (3), go, (4).
40. blended: (4), heavens, (6), lake; (6).
This web edition published by:
The University of Adelaide Library
University of Adelaide
South Australia 5005
Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 12:00