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The Question.

I DREAMED that, as I wandered by the way,
Bare winter suddenly was changed to spring,
And gentle odours led my steps astray,

Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring
Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay

Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling

Its green arms round the bosom of the stream,
But kissed it and then fled, as thou mightest in dream.

There grew pied wind-flowers and violets,

Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth,

The constellated flower that never sets;

Faint oxlips; tender blue bells, at whose birth The sod scarce heaved; and that tall flower that wets Its mother's face with heaven-collected tears, When the low wind, its playmate's voice, it hears.

And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine,

Green cow-bind, and the moonlight-coloured May, And cherry blossoms, and white cups, whose wine Was the bright dew yet drained not by the day; And wild roses, and ivy serpentine,

With its dark buds and leaves, wandering astray; And flowers azure, black, and streaked with gold, Fairer than any wakened eyes behold.

And nearer to the river's trembling edge

There grew broad flag-flowers, purple prankt with white, And starry river buds among the sedge,

And floating water-lilies, broad and bright,
Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge

With moonlight beams of their own watery light;
And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep green
As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen.

Methought that of these visionary flowers

I made a nosegay, bound in such a way
That the same hues, which in their natural bowers
Were mingled or opposed, the like array
Kept these imprisoned children of the Hours
Within my hand,—and then, elate and gay,
I hastened to the spot whence I had come,
That I might there present it!-oh! to whom?

SHELLEY

To Henry Wriothesly,

EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON.

HE who hath never warred with misery,
Nor ever tugged with fortune and distress,
Hath had no occasion, nor no field to try
The strength and forces of his worthiness.
Those parts of judgment which felicity
Keeps as concealed, affliction must express;

And only men show their abilities,
And what they are, in their extremities.

The world had never taken so full note

Of what thou art, hadst thou not been undone;

And only thy affliction hath begot

More fame, than thy best fortunes could have done :
For ever by adversity are wrought

The greatest works of admiration;
And all the fair examples of renown,
Out of distress and misery are grown.

Mutius the fire, the tortures Regulus,
Did make the miracles of faith and zeal:
Exile renowned and graced Rutilius,
Imprisonment and poison did reveal
The worth of Socrates. Fabricius'
Poverty did grace that commonweal,
More than all Sylla's riches got with strife;
And Cato's death did vie with Cæsar's life.

Not to be unhappy is unhappiness,
And misery not to have known misery:
For the best way unto discretion is
The way that leads us by adversity.

And men are better showed what is amiss,

By the expert finger of calamity,

Than they can be with all that fortune brings,

Who never shows them the true face of things.

How could we know that thou couldst have endured

With a reposed cheer, wrong and disgrace;

And with a heart and countenance assured,

Have looked stern death and horror in the face!

How should we know thy soul had been secured,
In honest counsels, and in way unbase;

Hadst thou not stood to show us what thou wert,
By thy affliction that descried thy heart!

It is not but the tempest that doth show
The seaman's cunning-but the field that tries
The captain's courage. And we come to know
Best what men are, in their worst jeopardies.
For lo! how many have we seen to grow
To high renown from lowest miseries,
Out of the hands of death? And many a one
To 've been undone, had they not been undone?

He that endures for what his conscience knows
Not to be ill, doth from a patience high
Look only on the cause whereto he owes
Those sufferings, not on his misery:

The more he endures, the more his glory grows;
Which never grows from imbecility :

Only the best composed and worthiest hearts,
God sets to act the hard'st and constant'st parts.

Rejoice in May.

WHEN May is in his prime,

Then may each heart rejoice;

When May bedecks each branch with green,
Each bird strains forth his voice.

DANIEL.

The lively sap creeps up

Into the blooming thorn:

The flowers, which cold in prison kept,
Now laugh the frost to scorn.

All Nature's imps triumph
Whiles joyful May doth last;
When May is gone, of all the year
The pleasant time is past.

May makes the cheerful hue,

May breeds and brings new blood, May marcheth throughout every limb, May makes the merry mood.

May pricketh gentle hearts

Their warbling notes to tune.
Full strange it is, yet some, we see,
Do make their May in June.

Thus things are strangely wrought,
Whiles joyful May doth last.
Take May in time: when May is gone,
The pleasant time is past.

All ye that live on earth,

And have your May at will,
Rejoice in May, as I do now,
And use your May with skill.

Use May, while that you may,
For May hath but his time;
When all the fruit is gone, it is
Too late the tree to climb.

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