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join any party. He did not in his tion. Another of his favourite books youth look forward to gradual improvement: nay, in those days of intolerance, now almost forgotten, it seemed as easy to look forward to the sort of millennium of freedom and brotherhood which he thought the proper state of mankind as to the present reign of moderation and improvement. Ill-health made him believe that his race would soon be run; that a year or two was all he had of life. He desired that these years should be useful and illustrious. He in a fervent call on his fellowcreatures to share alike the blessings of the creation, to love and serve each other, the noblest work that life and time permitted him. In this spirit he composed Queen Mab.

saw,

He was a lover of the wonderful and wild in literature, but had not fostered these tastes at their genuine sources— the romances and chivalry of the middle ages-but in the perusal of such German works as were current in those days. Under the influence of these he, at the age of fifteen, wrote two short prose romances of slender merit. The sentiments and language were exaggerated, the composition imitative and poor. He wrote also a poem on the subject of Ahasuerus-being led to it by a German fragment he picked up, dirty and torn, in Lincoln's Inn Fields. This fell afterwards into other hands, and was considerably altered before it was printed. Our earlier English poetry was almost unknown to him. The love and knowledge of Nature developed by Wordsworth-the lofty melody and mysterious beauty of Coleridge's poetry --and the wild fantastic machinery and gorgeous scenery adopted by Southey -composed his favourite reading; the rhythm of Queen Mab was founded on that of Thalaba, and the first few lines bear a striking resemblance in spirit, though not in idea, to the opening of that poem. His fertile imagination, and ear tuned to the finest sense of harmony, preserved him from imita

was the poem of Gebir by Walter Savage Landor. From his boyhood he had a wonderful facility of versification, which he carried into another language; and his Latin school-verses were composed with an ease and correctness that procured for him prizes, and caused him to be resorted to by all his friends for help. He was, at the period of writing Queen Mab, a great traveller within the limits of England, Scotland, and Ireland. His time was spent among the loveliest scenes of these countries. Mountain and lake and forest were his home; the phenomena of Nature were his favourite study. He loved to inquire into their causes, and was addicted to pursuits of natural philosophy and chemistry, as far as they could be carried on as an amusement. These tastes gave truth and vivacity to his descriptions, and warmed his soul with that deep admiration for the wonders of Nature which constant association with her inspired.

He never intended to publish Queen Mab as it stands; but a few years after, when printing Alastor, he extracted a small portion which he entitled The Daemon of the World. In this he changed somewhat the versification, and made other alterations scarcely to be called improvements.

Some years after, when in Italy, a bookseller published an edition of Queen Mab as it originally stood. Shelley was hastily written to by his friends, under the idea that, deeply injurious as the mere distribution of the poem had proved, the publication might awaken fresh persecutions. At the suggestion of these friends he wrote a letter on the subject, printed in the Examiner newspaper-with which I close this history of his earliest work.

To THE EDITOR OF THE EXAMINER.' 'SIR,

'Having heard that a poem entitled Queen Mab has been surreptitiously

published in London, and that legal | sacred cause of freedom. I have directed proceedings have been instituted my solicitor to apply to Chancery for an against the publisher, I request the favour of your insertion of the following explanation of the affair, as it relates

to me.

A poem entitled Queen Mab was written by me at the age of eighteen, I daresay in a sufficiently intemperate spirit--but even then was not intended for publication, and a few copies only were struck off, to be distributed among my personal friends. I have not seen this production for several years. I doubt not but that it is perfectly worthless in point of literary composition; and that, in all that concerns moral and political speculation, as well as in the subtler discriminations of metaphysical and religious doctrine, it is still more crude and immature. I am a devoted enemy to religious, political, and domestic oppression; and I regret this publication, not so much from literary vanity, as because I fear it is better fitted to injure than to serve the

injunction to restrain the sale; but, after the precedent of Mr. Southey's Wat Tyler (a poem written, I believe, at the same age, and with the same unreflecting enthusiasm), with little hope of success.

'Whilst I exonerate myself from all share in having divulged opinions hostile to existing sanctions, under the form, whatever it may be, which they assume in this poem, it is scarcely necessary for me to protest against the system of inculcating the truth of Christianity or the excellence of Monarchy, however true or however excellent they may be, by such equivocal arguments as confiscation and imprisonment, and invective and slander, and the insolent violation of the most sacred ties of Nature and society. 'SIR,

'Iam your obliged and obedient servant, 'PERCY B. SHELLEY. 'Pisa, June 22, 1821.'

[Of the following pieces the Original Poetry by Victor and Cazire, the Poems from St. Irvyne, or The Rosicrucian, The Posthumous Fragments of Margaret Nicholson and The Devil's Walk, were published by Shelley himself; the others by Medwin, Rossetti, Forman and Dowden, as indicated in the several prefatory notes.]

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Longius sed tu fuge curiosus

Caeteras laudes fuge suspicari,

Caeteras culpas fuge velle tractas

VI

despair;

Not a groan of regret, not a sigh, not a

breath,

Dares dispute with grim Silence the empire of Death.

10

I offer a calm habitation to thee,-
Say, victim of grief, wilt thou slumber

with me?

Mortal.

Mine eyelids are heavy; my soul seeks

repose,

Sede tremenda. 20 It longs in thy cells to embosom its

Spe tremescentes recubant in illa Sede virtutes pariterque culpae, In sui Patris gremio, tremenda

Sede Deique.

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O Death! O my friend! snatch this form to thy shrine, And I fear, dear destroyer, I shall not repine.

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DAR'ST thou amid the varied multitude 40 To live alone, an isolated thing? A Dialogue-22 o'er Esdaile MS.; on 1858. To the Moonbeam-28 rankle Esdaile MS.; wake 1858.

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Not when the tides of murder roll, When nations groan, that kings may bask in bliss,

Death! canst thou boast a victory such as this

When in his hour of pomp and

power

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Tremble, ye proud, whose grandeur mocks the woe

Which props the column of unnatural state!

You the plainings, faint and low, From Misery's tortured soul that 40

flow,

Shall usher to your fate. To Death-10 murderer Esdaile MS.; murders 1858.

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