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NOTE xxxiv. p. 313.

"And flowery weeds and fragrant copses dress
The bones of Desolation's nakedness."

Nothing but the bones are there now; and what have we gained?

NOTE xxxv. p. 317.

"This poem was conceived and chiefly written in a wood that skirts the Arno, near Florence, and on a day when that tempestuous wind, whose temperature is at once mild and animating, was collecting the vapours which pour down the autumnal rains. They began, as I foresaw, at sunset, with a violent tempest of hail and rain, attended by that magnificent thunder and lightning peculiar to the Cis-alpine regions.

"The phenomenon alluded to at the conclusion of the third stanza is well known to naturalists. The vegetation at the bottom of the sea, of rivers and of lakes, sympathises with that of the land in the change of seasons, and is consequently influenced by the winds that announce it."-Shelley's Note.

It is characteristic of Shelley's pleasure in repeating an image or a thought that pleased him, that he makes use of this phenomenon " at least three times in different poems.

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NOTE xxxvi. p. 296.

The lines from Moschus with which Shelley prefaced the Adonais were accidentally omitted in the text. I insert them here, with a translation made of them by Professor Mahaffy. Φάρμακον ἦλθε Βίων ποτὶ σὸν στόμα φαρμακοειδές. πῶς τευ τοῖς χείλεσσι ποτέδραμε κ' οὐκ ἐγλυκάνθη ; τίς δὲ βροτός, τοσσοῦτον ἀνάμερος ὡς κεράσαι τοι ἢ δοῦναι λαλέοντι τὸ φάρμακον, οὐ φύγεν ᾠδάν ;

Bion, a potion came to thy mouth which soothed like a potion. How did it touch thy lips and not change its bitter to sweetness? Who so savage of men as to mix or to give thee the poison Even as thou didst speak? Fled he not from the voice of thy singing?

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And like a dying lady, lean and pale

An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying king .

Arethusa arose

Ariel to Miranda.-Take

Art thou pale for weariness

A Sensitive Plant in a garden grew

As I lay asleep in Italy

At the creation of the Earth

A widow bird sate mourning for her love.

A woodman whose rough heart was out of tune

Before these cruel Twins, whom at one birth
Beneath is a wide plain of billowy mist
Best and brightest, come away!
Brother mine, calm wanderer

Daylight on its last purple cloud

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I arise from dreams of thee

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers

I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way
I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden

If I walk in Autumn's even

I loved-alas! our life is love

I loved, I love, and when I love no more
I met a traveller from an antique land
In silence then they took the

way

In the great morning of the world

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Let there be light! said Liberty

Life may change, but it may fly not
Life of Life! thy lips enkindle

Lift not the painted veil which those who live.
Like the ghost of a dear friend dead

Listen, listen, Mary mine

Madonna, wherefore hast thou sent to me
Many a green isle needs must be

Men of England, wherefore plough.

Music, when soft voices die

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My coursers are fed with the lightning
My faint spirit was sitting in the light
My lost William, thou in whom

Nor happiness, nor majesty, nor fame
Now the last day of many days

Oh, world! oh, life! oh, time!
Old winter was gone

O Mary dear, that you were here

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O, wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being

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Tell me, thou star, whose wings of light.
That time is dead for ever, child
The awful shadow of some unseen Power
The babe is at peace within the womb
The blasts of Autumn drive the wingèd seeds.

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The serpent is shut out from paradise

The sleepless Hours who watch me as I lie
The spider spreads her webs, whether she be .
The sun is set; the swallows are asleep
The sun is warm, the sky is clear

.

The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing.
The wind has swept from the wide atmosphere
The world's great age begins anew.

The young moon has fed

Thou art the wine whose drunkenness is all

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Thou, Earth, calm empire of a happy soul
Thy little footsteps on the sands

To the deep, to the deep.

'Twas at the season when the Earth upsprings

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[We] look on that which cannot change-the One
We strew these opiate flowers

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Ye hasten to the dead! What seek ye there

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Printed by R. & R. CLARK, Edinburgh.

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