[71:2] First published in the _Fall of Robespierre_, 1795: included (as 'Song', p. 13) in 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. LINENOTES: Title] Effusion xxv. 1796. ON A DISCOVERY MADE TOO LATE[72:1] Thou bleedest, my poor Heart! and thy distress Reasoning I ponder with a scornful smile And probe thy sore wound sternly, though the while Swoln be mine eye and dim with heaviness. Why didst thou listen to Hope's whisper bland? 5 Or, listening, why forget the healing tale, When Jealousy with feverous fancies pale Jarr'd thy fine fibres with a maniac's hand? Faint was that Hope, and rayless!--Yet 'twas fair And sooth'd with many a dream the hour of rest: 10 Thou should'st have lov'd it most, when most opprest, And nurs'd it with an agony of care, Even as a mother her sweet infant heir That wan and sickly droops upon her breast! 1794. FOOTNOTES: [72:1] First published in 1796: _Selection of Sonnets_, _Poems_ 1796: in 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829, and 1834. It was sent in a letter to Southey, dated October 21, 1794. (_Letters of S. T. C._, 1895, i. 92.) LINENOTES: Title] Effusion xix. 1796 (in 'Contents' _To my Heart_): Sonnet II. On a Discovery made too late 1797, 1803, and again in P. and D. W., 1877-80: Sonnet xi. 1828, 1829, 1834. [2-4] Doth Reason ponder with an anguish'd smile Probing thy sore wound sternly, tho' the while Her eye be swollen and dim with heaviness. Letter, 1794. [6] the] its Letter, 1794. [7] feverous] feverish 1796, 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829. [14] wan] pale Letter, 1794. TO THE AUTHOR OF 'THE ROBBERS'[72:2] Schiller! that hour I would have wish'd to die, If thro' the shuddering midnight I had sent From the dark dungeon of the Tower time-rent That fearful voice, a famish'd Father's cry-- Lest in some after moment aught more mean 5 Might stamp me mortal! A triumphant shout Black Horror scream'd, and all her _goblin_ rout Diminish'd shrunk from the more withering scene! Ah! Bard tremendous in sublimity! Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood 10 Wandering at eve with finely-frenzied eye Beneath some vast old tempest-swinging wood! Awhile with mute awe gazing I would brood: Then weep aloud in a wild ecstasy! ? 1794. FOOTNOTES: