THE ZUCCA. THE MAGNETIC LADY TO HER PATIENT. LINES: 'WHEN THE LAMP IS SHATTERED'. TO JANE: THE INVITATION. TO JANE: THE RECOLLECTION. THE PINE FOREST OF THE CASCINE NEAR PISA. WITH A GUITAR, TO JANE. TO JANE: 'THE KEEN STARS WERE TWINKLING'. A DIRGE. LINES WRITTEN IN THE BAY OF LERICI. LINES: 'WE MEET NOT AS WE PARTED'. THE ISLE. FRAGMENT: TO THE MOON. EPITAPH. NOTE ON POEMS OF 1822, BY MRS. SHELLEY. *** EARLY POEMS [1814, 1815]. [The poems which follow appeared, with a few exceptions, either in the volumes published from time to time by Shelley himself, or in the "Posthumous Poems" of 1824, or in the "Poetical Works" of 1839, of which a second and enlarged edition was published by Mrs. Shelley in the same year. A few made their first appearance in some fugitive publication--such as Leigh Hunt's "Literary Pocket-Book"--and were subsequently incorporated in the collective editions. In every case the editio princeps and (where this is possible) the exact date of composition are indicated below the title.] *** STANZA, WRITTEN AT BRACKNELL. [Composed March, 1814. Published in Hogg's "Life of Shelley", 1858.] Thy dewy looks sink in my breast; Thy gentle words stir poison there; Thou hast disturbed the only rest That was the portion of despair! Subdued to Duty's hard control, _5 I could have borne my wayward lot: The chains that bind this ruined soul Had cankered then--but crushed it not. *** STANZAS.--APRIL, 1814. [Composed at Bracknell, April, 1814. Published with "Alastor", 1816.] Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon, Rapid clouds have drank the last pale beam of even: Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon, And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven. Pause not! The time is past! Every voice cries, Away! _5 Tempt not with one last tear thy friend's ungentle mood: Thy lover's eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay: Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude. Away, away! to thy sad and silent home; Pour bitter tears on its desolated hearth; _10 Watch the dim shades as like ghosts they go and come, And complicate strange webs of melancholy mirth. The leaves of wasted autumn woods shall float around thine head: The blooms of dewy spring shall gleam beneath thy feet: But thy soul or this world must fade in the frost that binds the dead, _15 Ere midnight's frown and morning's smile, ere thou and peace may meet. The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose, For the weary winds are silent, or the moon is in the deep: Some respite to its turbulence unresting ocean knows; Whatever moves, or toils, or grieves, hath its appointed sleep. _20