XV. The flames1 were fiercely vomited O'er that vast flood's suspended foam, XVI. The plank whereon that Lady sate Was driven through the chasms, about and about, Between the peaks so desolate Of the drowning mountains, in and out, As the thistle-beard on a whirlwind sails- XVII. At last her plank an eddy crost, And bore her to the city's wall, Which now the flood had reached almost; To hear the fire roar and hiss Through the domes of those mighty palaces. XVIII. The eddy whirled her round and round 1 Mr. Rossetti was unquestionably right in substituting flames for waves, the word which appeared here in all editions prior to his. In Mrs. Shelley's editions, from 1824 onward, mountain instead of mountains. XIX. For it was filled with sculptures rarest, Of winged shapes, whose legions range XX. And as she looked, still lovelier grew Of his own mind did there endure After the touch, whose power had braided XXI. She looked, the flames were dim, the flood Winding through hills in solitude; Those marble shapes then seemed to quiver, And their fair limbs to float in motion, Like weeds unfolding in the ocean. XXII. And their lips moved; one seemed to speak, The statues gave a joyous scream, 1 In Mrs. Shelley's collected editions, who; but that in the Posthumous Poems. 1 2 In the collected editions, floor; but flood in the Posthumous Poems. XXIII. The dizzy flight of that phantom pale Of her dark eyes the dream did creep, TO CONSTANTIA, SINGING.1 I. THUS to be lost and thus to sink and die, Perchance were death indeed!-Constantia, turn! In thy dark eyes a power like light doth lie, Even though the sounds which were thy voice, which burn Between thy lips, are laid to sleep; Within thy breath, and on thy hair, like odour it is yet, And from thy touch like fire doth leap. Even while I write, my burning cheeks are wet, 1 Mrs. Shelley first gave this poem, without date, in the volume of Posthumous Poems; but in the collected editions she placed it among the poems of 1817. It is not, I believe, known to whom it refers; but Mr. Rossetti thinks the name "is most probably a fancy name given to the lady in question by Shelley in consequence of his enthusiasm for the heroine, Constantia Dudley, of a novel by Brockden Brown entitled Ormond." II. A breathless awe, like the swift change Thou breathest now in fast ascending numbers. To follow its sublime career, Beyond the mighty moons that wane Upon the verge of nature's utmost sphere, Till the world's shadowy walls are past and disappear. III. Her voice is hovering o'er my soul-it lingers My heart is quivering like a flame; As morning dew, that in the sunbeam dies, IV. I have no life, Constantia, now, but thee, 1 In the Posthumous Poems, extacics: in the collected editions, ecstacies. On which, like one in trance upborne, Now 'tis the breath of summer night, Round western isles, with incense-blossoms bright, TO CONSTANTIA.1 I. THE rose that drinks the fountain dew Grows pale and blue with altered hue- For the planet of frost, so cold and bright, II. Such is my heart-roses are fair, And that at best a withered blossom; But thy false care did idly wear Its withered leaves in a faithless bosom; 1 This fragment was first given by Mrs. Shelley in the first edition of 1839, among Poems of 1817. |