Percy Bysshe Shelley - Delphi Poets Series Read online

Page 6

And they thrive well who from the poor

  Have snatched the bread of penury,

  And heap the houseless wanderer’s store

  On the rank pile of luxury.

  21.

  The Bishops thrive, though they are big; 100

  The Lawyers thrive, though they are thin;

  For every gown, and every wig,

  Hides the safe thrift of Hell within.

  22.

  Thus pigs were never counted clean,

  Although they dine on finest corn; 105

  And cormorants are sin-like lean,

  Although they eat from night to morn.

  23.

  Oh! why is the Father of Hell in such glee,

  As he grins from ear to ear?

  Why does he doff his clothes joyfully, 110

  As he skips, and prances, and flaps his wing,

  As he sidles, leers, and twirls his sting,

  And dares, as he is, to appear?

  24.

  A statesman passed — alone to him,

  The Devil dare his whole shape uncover, 115

  To show each feature, every limb,

  Secure of an unchanging lover.

  25.

  At this known sign, a welcome sight,

  The watchful demons sought their King,

  And every Fiend of the Stygian night, 120

  Was in an instant on the wing.

  26.

  Pale Loyalty, his guilt-steeled brow,

  With wreaths of gory laurel crowned:

  The hell-hounds, Murder, Want and Woe,

  Forever hungering, flocked around; 125

  From Spain had Satan sought their food,

  ‘Twas human woe and human blood!

  27.

  Hark! the earthquake’s crash I hear, —

  Kings turn pale, and Conquerors start,

  Ruffians tremble in their fear, 130

  For their Satan doth depart.

  28.

  This day Fiends give to revelry

  To celebrate their King’s return,

  And with delight its Sire to see

  Hell’s adamantine limits burn. 135

  29.

  But were the Devil’s sight as keen

  As Reason’s penetrating eye,

  His sulphurous Majesty I ween,

  Would find but little cause for joy.

  30.

  For the sons of Reason see 140

  That, ere fate consume the Pole,

  The false Tyrant’s cheek shall be

  Bloodless as his coward soul.

  QUEEN MAB

  A PHILOSOPHICAL POEM WITH NOTES

  Originally published in 1813, this long poem is formed of nine cantos and complemented with seventeen notes. After substantial revision, a second edition of a portion of the text was published in 1816 under the title The Daemon of the World. This poem serves as a foundation of the poet’s theory of revolution, depicting a two-pronged revolt involving necessary changes, brought on by both nature and the virtue of mankind.

  Shelley used William Godwin’s idea of “necessity” and combined it with his own idea of ever-changing nature, to establish the theory that contemporary evils inflicting society would break up over time. The poem is written in the form of a fairy tale that presents a future vision of a utopia on earth. Queen Mab, a fairy famously referred to by Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, descends in a chariot to a dwelling where Ianthe is sleeping on a couch. Queen Mab detaches Ianthe’s spirit or soul from her sleeping body and transports it on a celestial tour to her palace at the edge of the universe.

  A page of the poem’s original manuscript

  CONTENTS

  QUEEN MAB.

  NOTES ON QUEEN MAB.

  FALSEHOOD AND VICE.

  A DIALOGUE.

  NOTE ON QUEEN MAB, BY MRS. SHELLEY.

  TO THE EDITOR OF THE ‘EXAMINER.’

  The original title page

  QUEEN MAB.

  A PHILOSOPHICAL POEM, WITH NOTES.

  (An edition (250 copies) of “Queen Mab” was printed at London in the summer of 1813 by Shelley himself, whose name, as author and printer, appears on the title-page (see “Bibliographical List”). Of this edition about seventy copies were privately distributed. Sections 1, 2, 8, and 9 were afterwards rehandled, and the intermediate sections here and there revised and altered; and of this new text sections 1 and 2 were published by Shelley in the “Alastor” volume of 1816, under the title, “The Daemon of the World”. The remainder lay unpublished till 1876, when sections 8 and 9 were printed by Mr. H. Buxton Forman, C.B., from a printed copy of “Queen Mab” with Shelley’s manuscript corrections. See “The Shelley Library”, pages 36-44, for a description of this copy, which is in Mr. Forman’s possession. Sources of the text are (1) the editio princeps of 1813; (2) text (with some omissions) in the “Poetical Works” of 1839, edited by Mrs. Shelley; (3) text (one line only wanting) in the 2nd edition of the “Poetical Works”, 1839 (same editor).

  “Queen Mab” was probably written during the year 1812 — it is first heard of at Lynmouth, August 18, 1812 (“Shelley Memorials”, page 39) — but the text may be assumed to include earlier material.)

  ECRASEZ L’INFAME! — Correspondance de Voltaire.

  Avia Pieridum peragro loca, nullius ante

  Trita solo; juvat integros accedere fonteis;

  Atque haurire: juvatque novos decerpere flores.

  …

  Unde prius nulli velarint tempora musae.

  Primum quod magnis doceo de rebus; et arctis

  Religionum animos nodis exsolvere pergo. — Lucret. lib. 4.

  Dos pon sto, kai kosmon kineso. — Archimedes.

  TO HARRIET *****.

  Whose is the love that gleaming through the world,

  Wards off the poisonous arrow of its scorn?

  Whose is the warm and partial praise,

  Virtue’s most sweet reward?

  Beneath whose looks did my reviving soul 5

  Riper in truth and virtuous daring grow?

  Whose eyes have I gazed fondly on,

  And loved mankind the more?

  HARRIET! on thine: — thou wert my purer mind;

  Thou wert the inspiration of my song; 10

  Thine are these early wilding flowers,

  Though garlanded by me.

  Then press into thy breast this pledge of love;

  And know, though time may change and years may roll,

  Each floweret gathered in my heart 15

  It consecrates to thine.

  QUEEN MAB.

  1.

  How wonderful is Death,

  Death and his brother Sleep!

  One, pale as yonder waning moon

  With lips of lurid blue;

  The other, rosy as the morn 5

  When throned on ocean’s wave

  It blushes o’er the world:

  Yet both so passing wonderful!

  Hath then the gloomy Power

  Whose reign is in the tainted sepulchres 10

  Seized on her sinless soul?

  Must then that peerless form

  Which love and admiration cannot view

  Without a beating heart, those azure veins

  Which steal like streams along a field of snow, 15

  That lovely outline, which is fair

  As breathing marble, perish?

  Must putrefaction’s breath

  Leave nothing of this heavenly sight

  But loathsomeness and ruin? 20

  Spare nothing but a gloomy theme,

  On which the lightest heart might moralize?

  Or is it only a sweet slumber

  Stealing o’er sensation,

  Which the breath of roseate morning 25

  Chaseth into darkness?

  Will Ianthe wake again,

  And give that faithful bosom joy

  Whose sleepless spirit waits to catch

  Light, life and rapture from her smile? 30

  Yes! she will wake aga
in,

  Although her glowing limbs are motionless,

  And silent those sweet lips,

  Once breathing eloquence,

  That might have soothed a tiger’s rage, 35

  Or thawed the cold heart of a conqueror.

  Her dewy eyes are closed,

  And on their lids, whose texture fine

  Scarce hides the dark blue orbs beneath,

  The baby Sleep is pillowed: 40

  Her golden tresses shade

  The bosom’s stainless pride,

  Curling like tendrils of the parasite

  Around a marble column.

  Hark! whence that rushing sound? 45

  ‘Tis like the wondrous strain

  That round a lonely ruin swells,

  Which, wandering on the echoing shore,

  The enthusiast hears at evening:

  ‘Tis softer than the west wind’s sigh; 50

  ‘Tis wilder than the unmeasured notes

  Of that strange lyre whose strings

  The genii of the breezes sweep:

  Those lines of rainbow light

  Are like the moonbeams when they fall 55

  Through some cathedral window, but the tints

  Are such as may not find

  Comparison on earth.

  Behold the chariot of the Fairy Queen!

  Celestial coursers paw the unyielding air; 60

  Their filmy pennons at her word they furl,

  And stop obedient to the reins of light:

  These the Queen of Spells drew in,

  She spread a charm around the spot,

  And leaning graceful from the aethereal car, 65

  Long did she gaze, and silently,

  Upon the slumbering maid.

  Oh! not the visioned poet in his dreams,

  When silvery clouds float through the ‘wildered brain,

  When every sight of lovely, wild and grand 70

  Astonishes, enraptures, elevates,

  When fancy at a glance combines

  The wondrous and the beautiful, —

  So bright, so fair, so wild a shape

  Hath ever yet beheld, 75

  As that which reined the coursers of the air,

  And poured the magic of her gaze

  Upon the maiden’s sleep.

  The broad and yellow moon

  Shone dimly through her form — 80

  That form of faultless symmetry;

  The pearly and pellucid car

  Moved not the moonlight’s line:

  ‘Twas not an earthly pageant:

  Those who had looked upon the sight, 85

  Passing all human glory,

  Saw not the yellow moon,

  Saw not the mortal scene,

  Heard not the night-wind’s rush,

  Heard not an earthly sound, 90

  Saw but the fairy pageant,

  Heard but the heavenly strains

  That filled the lonely dwelling.

  The Fairy’s frame was slight, yon fibrous cloud,

  That catches but the palest tinge of even, 95

  And which the straining eye can hardly seize

  When melting into eastern twilight’s shadow,

  Were scarce so thin, so slight; but the fair star

  That gems the glittering coronet of morn,

  Sheds not a light so mild, so powerful, 100

  As that which, bursting from the Fairy’s form,

  Spread a purpureal halo round the scene,

  Yet with an undulating motion,

  Swayed to her outline gracefully.

  From her celestial car 105

  The Fairy Queen descended,

  And thrice she waved her wand

  Circled with wreaths of amaranth:

  Her thin and misty form

  Moved with the moving air, 110

  And the clear silver tones,

  As thus she spoke, were such

  As are unheard by all but gifted ear.

  FAIRY:

  ‘Stars! your balmiest influence shed!

  Elements! your wrath suspend! 115

  Sleep, Ocean, in the rocky bounds

  That circle thy domain!

  Let not a breath be seen to stir

  Around yon grass-grown ruin’s height,

  Let even the restless gossamer 120

  Sleep on the moveless air!

  Soul of Ianthe! thou,

  Judged alone worthy of the envied boon,

  That waits the good and the sincere; that waits

  Those who have struggled, and with resolute will 125

  Vanquished earth’s pride and meanness, burst the chains,

  The icy chains of custom, and have shone

  The day-stars of their age; — Soul of Ianthe!

  Awake! arise!’

  Sudden arose 130

  Ianthe’s Soul; it stood

  All beautiful in naked purity,

  The perfect semblance of its bodily frame.

  Instinct with inexpressible beauty and grace,

  Each stain of earthliness 135

  Had passed away, it reassumed

  Its native dignity, and stood

  Immortal amid ruin.

  Upon the couch the body lay

  Wrapped in the depth of slumber: 140

  Its features were fixed and meaningless,

  Yet animal life was there,

  And every organ yet performed

  Its natural functions: ‘twas a sight

  Of wonder to behold the body and soul. 145

  The self-same lineaments, the same

  Marks of identity were there:

  Yet, oh, how different! One aspires to Heaven,

  Pants for its sempiternal heritage,

  And ever-changing, ever-rising still, 150

  Wantons in endless being.

  The other, for a time the unwilling sport

  Of circumstance and passion, struggles on;

  Fleets through its sad duration rapidly:

  Then, like an useless and worn-out machine, 155

  Rots, perishes, and passes.

  FAIRY:

  ‘Spirit! who hast dived so deep;

  Spirit! who hast soared so high;

  Thou the fearless, thou the mild,

  Accept the boon thy worth hath earned, 160

  Ascend the car with me.’

  SPIRIT:

  ‘Do I dream? Is this new feeling

  But a visioned ghost of slumber?

  If indeed I am a soul,

  A free, a disembodied soul, 165

  Speak again to me.’

  FAIRY:

  ‘I am the Fairy MAB: to me ‘tis given

  The wonders of the human world to keep:

  The secrets of the immeasurable past,

  In the unfailing consciences of men, 170

  Those stern, unflattering chroniclers, I find:

  The future, from the causes which arise

  In each event, I gather: not the sting

  Which retributive memory implants

  In the hard bosom of the selfish man; 175

  Nor that ecstatic and exulting throb

  Which virtue’s votary feels when he sums up

  The thoughts and actions of a well-spent day,

  Are unforeseen, unregistered by me:

  And it is yet permitted me, to rend 180

  The veil of mortal frailty, that the spirit,

  Clothed in its changeless purity, may know

  How soonest to accomplish the great end

  For which it hath its being, and may taste

  That peace, which in the end all life will share. 185

  This is the meed of virtue; happy Soul,

  Ascend the car with me!’

  The chains of earth’s immurement

  Fell from Ianthe’s spirit;

  They shrank and brake like bandages of straw 190

  Beneath a wakened giant’s strength.

  She knew her glorious change,

  And felt in apprehension unco
ntrolled

  New raptures opening round:

  Each day-dream of her mortal life, 195

  Each frenzied vision of the slumbers

  That closed each well-spent day,

  Seemed now to meet reality.

  The Fairy and the Soul proceeded;

  The silver clouds disparted; 200

  And as the car of magic they ascended,

  Again the speechless music swelled,

  Again the coursers of the air

  Unfurled their azure pennons, and the Queen

  Shaking the beamy reins 205

  Bade them pursue their way.

  The magic car moved on.

  The night was fair, and countless stars

  Studded Heaven’s dark blue vault, —

  Just o’er the eastern wave 210

  Peeped the first faint smile of morn: —

  The magic car moved on —

  From the celestial hoofs

  The atmosphere in flaming sparkles flew,

  And where the burning wheels 215

  Eddied above the mountain’s loftiest peak,

  Was traced a line of lightning.

  Now it flew far above a rock,

  The utmost verge of earth,

  The rival of the Andes, whose dark brow 220

  Lowered o’er the silver sea.

  Far, far below the chariot’s path,

  Calm as a slumbering babe,

  Tremendous Ocean lay.

  The mirror of its stillness showed 225

  The pale and waning stars,

  The chariot’s fiery track,

  And the gray light of morn

  Tinging those fleecy clouds

  That canopied the dawn. 230

  Seemed it, that the chariot’s way

  Lay through the midst of an immense concave,

  Radiant with million constellations, tinged

  With shades of infinite colour,

  And semicircled with a belt 235

  Flashing incessant meteors.

  The magic car moved on.

  As they approached their goal

  The coursers seemed to gather speed;

  The sea no longer was distinguished; earth 240

  Appeared a vast and shadowy sphere;

  The sun’s unclouded orb

  Rolled through the black concave;

  Its rays of rapid light

  Parted around the chariot’s swifter course, 245

  And fell, like ocean’s feathery spray

  Dashed from the boiling surge

  Before a vessel’s prow.

  The magic car moved on.

  Earth’s distant orb appeared 250

  The smallest light that twinkles in the heaven;

  Whilst round the chariot’s way

  Innumerable systems rolled,

  And countless spheres diffused

  An ever-varying glory. 255