Julian And Maddalo. A Conversation Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEEFGHHIIJJK LMMNNOOOOPPQQRAIMSSA AIITTAAOOOOOOAAIIPPU UAVOOMMOOWMMMOOMMXXY ZQQOA2B2B2C2C2D2D2B2 B2AMAA2B2B2AAE2E2E2O OA2MAAMMMAAAF2F2WIB2 B2AAAMG2G2AAMMAAB2B2 IIAMF2F2OOH2H2D2D2II OOAAAOOOOIII2I2H2H2I 2IMMAAAAH2H2A2MAA2OO OOAMWWIOOA2OOOMAIIAA A2I2AAOOI2I2WIA2H2II I2I2B2B2I2I2WIMMH2H2 OOMMIIQQAAOOH2H2MMG2 G2AI2B2B2OOMMF2F2I2I 2I2I2OOMA2QQIIB2B2B2 B2OOIAOOI2I2H2H2J2J2 OOOOOOB2B2K2K2I2I2L2 L2OOOO OOB2B2MMB2B2I2I2III2 I2OOB2B2OO AAI2I2B2B2MMI2I2G2G2 H2H2H2H2OI2OI2I2I2I2 AA OOOOI2I2AAOOOOB2B2QQ I2I2WI2B2B2B2B2OOI2I 2I2OOI2I2OOM2M2KB2N2 OOOAAO2O2OOI2I2MMB2B 2 OOOOOOB2AI2I2 H2H2B2B2OOI2I2I2I2I2 I2 OOI2I2OOMMOOOOOOOP2P 2MG2 MAAMMB2B2I2I2Q2Q2Q2G 2G2I2I2OOQQI2I2O AAI2I2MMR2R2OOOOI2 B2B2OOOOB2B2MM I2I2OOOOB2B2OOI2 KN2S2TOOB2B2I2I2OOH2 H2MMMM AAOOI2I2T2T2OOB2B2F2 F2AAKKOOG2G2MMI2I2OO B2B2WI2B2B2H2 B2B2I2I2OOOMMAAOOOOO OJ2J2OOOOOOOOOOAAOOO OI2I2I2QQOB2U2O2G2G2 I2I2OOAAB2B2B2I2OOAA V2V2 MOOI2I2I2 B2I2 A AAI2I2OOOOB2B2B2 I2I2I rode one evening with Count Maddalo | A |
Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow | A |
Of Adria towards Venice a bare strand | B |
Of hillocks heaped from ever shifting sand | B |
Matted with thistles and amphibious weeds | C |
Such as from earth's embrace the salt ooze breeds | C |
Is this an uninhabited sea side | D |
Which the lone fisher when his nets are dried | D |
Abandons and no other object breaks | E |
The waste but one dwarf tree and some few stakes | E |
Broken and unrepaired and the tide makes | E |
A narrow space of level sand thereon | F |
Where 'twas our wont to ride while day went down | G |
This ride was my delight I love all waste | H |
And solitary places where we taste | H |
The pleasure of believing what we see | I |
Is boundless as we wish our souls to be | I |
And such was this wide ocean and this shore | J |
More barren than its billows and yet more | J |
Than all with a remembered friend I love | K |
To ride as then I rode for the winds drove | L |
The living spray along the sunny air | M |
Into our faces the blue heavens were bare | M |
Stripped to their depths by the awakening north | N |
And from the waves sound like delight broke forth | N |
Harmonising with solitude and sent | O |
Into our hearts aereal merriment | O |
So as we rode we talked and the swift thought | O |
Winging itself with laughter lingered not | O |
But flew from brain to brain such glee was ours | P |
Charged with light memories of remembered hours | P |
None slow enough for sadness till we came | Q |
Homeward which always makes the spirit tame | Q |
This day had been cheerful but cold and now | R |
The sun was sinking and the wind also | A |
Our talk grew somewhat serious as may be | I |
Talk interrupted with such raillery | M |
As mocks itself because it cannot scorn | S |
The thoughts it would extinguish 'twas forlorn | S |
Yet pleasing such as once so poets tell | A |
The devils held within the dales of Hell | A |
Concerning God freewill and destiny | I |
Of all that earth has been or yet may be | I |
All that vain men imagine or believe | T |
Or hope can paint or suffering may achieve | T |
We descanted and I for ever still | A |
Is it not wise to make the best of ill | A |
Argued against despondency but pride | O |
Made my companion take the darker side | O |
The sense that he was greater than his kind | O |
Had struck methinks his eagle spirit blind | O |
By gazing on its own exceeding light | O |
Meanwhile the sun paused ere it should alight | O |
Over the horizon of the mountains Oh | A |
How beautiful is sunset when the glow | A |
Of Heaven descends upon a land like thee | I |
Thou Paradise of exiles Italy | I |
Thy mountains seas and vineyards and the towers | P |
Of cities they encircle it was ours | P |
To stand on thee beholding it and then | U |
Just where we had dismounted the Count's men | U |
Were waiting for us with the gondola | A |
As those who pause on some delightful way | V |
Though bent on pleasant pilgrimage we stood | O |
Looking upon the evening and the flood | O |
Which lay between the city and the shore | M |
Paved with the image of the sky the hoar | M |
And aery Alps towards the North appeared | O |
Through mist an heaven sustaining bulwark reared | O |
Between the East and West and half the sky | W |
Was roofed with clouds of rich emblazonry | M |
Dark purple at the zenith which still grew | M |
Down the steep West into a wondrous hue | M |
Brighter than burning gold even to the rent | O |
Where the swift sun yet paused in his descent | O |
Among the many folded hills they were | M |
Those famous Euganean hills which bear | M |
As seen from Lido thro' the harbour piles | X |
The likeness of a clump of peaked isles | X |
And then as if the Earth and Sea had been | Y |
Dissolved into one lake of fire were seen | Z |
Those mountains towering as from waves of flame | Q |
Around the vaporous sun from which there came | Q |
The inmost purple spirit of light and made | O |
Their very peaks transparent 'Ere it fade ' | A2 |
Said my companion 'I will show you soon | B2 |
A better station' so o'er the lagune | B2 |
We glided and from that funereal bark | C2 |
I leaned and saw the city and could mark | C2 |
How from their many isles in evening's gleam | D2 |
Its temples and its palaces did seem | D2 |
Like fabrics of enchantment piled to Heaven | B2 |
I was about to speak when 'We are even | B2 |
Now at the point I meant ' said Maddalo | A |
And bade the gondolieri cease to row | M |
'Look Julian on the west and listen well | A |
If you hear not a deep and heavy bell ' | A2 |
I looked and saw between us and the sun | B2 |
A building on an island such a one | B2 |
As age to age might add for uses vile | A |
A windowless deformed and dreary pile | A |
And on the top an open tower where hung | E2 |
A bell which in the radiance swayed and swung | E2 |
We could just hear its hoarse and iron tongue | E2 |
The broad sun sunk behind it and it tolled | O |
In strong and black relief 'What we behold | O |
Shall be the madhouse and its belfry tower ' | A2 |
Said Maddalo 'and ever at this hour | M |
Those who may cross the water hear that bell | A |
Which calls the maniacs each one from his cell | A |
To vespers ' 'As much skill as need to pray | M |
In thanks or hope for their dark lot have they | M |
To their stern maker ' I replied 'O ho | M |
You talk as in years past ' said Maddalo | A |
''Tis strange men change not You were ever still | A |
Among Christ's flock a perilous infidel | A |
A wolf for the meek lambs if you can't swim | F2 |
Beware of Providence ' I looked on him | F2 |
But the gay smile had faded in his eye | W |
'And such ' he cried 'is our mortality | I |
And this must be the emblem and the sign | B2 |
Of what should be eternal and divine | B2 |
And like that black and dreary bell the soul | A |
Hung in a heaven illumined tower must toll | A |
Our thoughts and our desires to meet below | A |
Round the rent heart and pray as madmen do | M |
For what they know not till the night of death | G2 |
As sunset that strange vision severeth | G2 |
Our memory from itself and us from all | A |
We sought and yet were baffled ' I recall | A |
The sense of what he said although I mar | M |
The force of his expressions The broad star | M |
Of day meanwhile had sunk behind the hill | A |
And the black bell became invisible | A |
And the red tower looked gray and all between | B2 |
The churches ships and palaces were seen | B2 |
Huddled in gloom into the purple sea | I |
The orange hues of heaven sunk silently | I |
We hardly spoke and soon the gondola | A |
Conveyed me to my lodging by the way | M |
The following morn was rainy cold and dim | F2 |
Ere Maddalo arose I called on him | F2 |
And whilst I waited with his child I played | O |
A lovelier toy sweet Nature never made | O |
A serious subtle wild yet gentle being | H2 |
Graceful without design and unforeseeing | H2 |
With eyes Oh speak not of her eyes which seem | D2 |
Twin mirrors of Italian Heaven yet gleam | D2 |
With such deep meaning as we never see | I |
But in the human countenance with me | I |
She was a special favourite I had nursed | O |
Her fine and feeble limbs when she came first | O |
To this bleak world and she yet seemed to know | A |
On second sight her ancient playfellow | A |
Less changed than she was by six months or so | A |
For after her first shyness was worn out | O |
We sate there rolling billiard balls about | O |
When the Count entered Salutations past | O |
'The word you spoke last night might well have cast | O |
A darkness on my spirit if man be | I |
The passive thing you say I should not see | I |
Much harm in the religions and old saws | I2 |
Tho' I may never own such leaden laws | I2 |
Which break a teachless nature to the yoke | H2 |
Mine is another faith ' thus much I spoke | H2 |
And noting he replied not added 'See | I2 |
This lovely child blithe innocent and free | I |
She spends a happy time with little care | M |
While we to such sick thoughts subjected are | M |
As came on you last night It is our will | A |
That thus enchains us to permitted ill | A |
We might be otherwise we might be all | A |
We dream of happy high majestical | A |
Where is the love beauty and truth we seek | H2 |
But in our mind and if we were not weak | H2 |
Should we be less in deed than in desire ' | A2 |
'Ay if we were not weak and we aspire | M |
How vainly to be strong ' said Maddalo | A |
'You talk Utopia ' 'It remains to know ' | A2 |
I then rejoined 'and those who try may find | O |
How strong the chains are which our spirit bind | O |
Brittle perchance as straw We are assured | O |
Much may be conquered much may be endured | O |
Of what degrades and crushes us We know | A |
That we have power over ourselves to do | M |
And suffer what we know not till we try | W |
But something nobler than to live and die | W |
So taught those kings of old philosophy | I |
Who reigned before Religion made men blind | O |
And those who suffer with their suffering kind | O |
Yet feel their faith religion ' 'My dear friend ' | A2 |
Said Maddalo 'my judgement will not bend | O |
To your opinion though I think you might | O |
Make such a system refutation tight | O |
As far as words go I knew one like you | M |
Who to this city came some months ago | A |
With whom I argued in this sort and he | I |
Is now gone mad and so he answered me | I |
Poor fellow but if you would like to go | A |
We'll visit him and his wild talk will show | A |
How vain are such aspiring theories ' | A2 |
'I hope to prove the induction otherwise | I2 |
And that a want of that true theory still | A |
Which seeks a soul of goodness in things ill | A |
Or in himself or others has thus bowed | O |
His being there are some by nature proud | O |
Who patient in all else demand but this | I2 |
To love and be beloved with gentleness | I2 |
And being scorned what wonder if they die | W |
Some living death this is not destiny | I |
But man's own wilful ill ' | A2 |
As thus I spoke | H2 |
Servants announced the gondola and we | I |
Through the fast falling rain and high wrought sea | I |
Sailed to the island where the madhouse stands | I2 |
We disembarked The clap of tortured hands | I2 |
Fierce yells and howlings and lamentings keen | B2 |
And laughter where complaint had merrier been | B2 |
Moans shrieks and curses and blaspheming prayers | I2 |
Accosted us We climbed the oozy stairs | I2 |
Into an old courtyard I heard on high | W |
Then fragments of most touching melody | I |
But looking up saw not the singer there | M |
Through the black bars in the tempestuous air | M |
I saw like weeds on a wrecked palace growing | H2 |
Long tangled locks flung wildly forth and flowing | H2 |
Of those who on a sudden were beguiled | O |
Into strange silence and looked forth and smiled | O |
Hearing sweet sounds Then I 'Methinks there were | M |
A cure of these with patience and kind care | M |
If music can thus move but what is he | I |
Whom we seek here ' 'Of his sad history | I |
I know but this ' said Maddalo 'he came | Q |
To Venice a dejected man and fame | Q |
Said he was wealthy or he had been so | A |
Some thought the loss of fortune wrought him woe | A |
But he was ever talking in such sort | O |
As you do far more sadly he seemed hurt | O |
Even as a man with his peculiar wrong | H2 |
To hear but of the oppression of the strong | H2 |
Or those absurd deceits I think with you | M |
In some respects you know which carry through | M |
The excellent impostors of this earth | G2 |
When they outface detection he had worth | G2 |
Poor fellow but a humorist in his way' | A |
'Alas what drove him mad ' 'I cannot say | I2 |
A lady came with him from France and when | B2 |
She left him and returned he wandered then | B2 |
About yon lonely isles of desert sand | O |
Till he grew wild he had no cash or land | O |
Remaining the police had brought him here | M |
Some fancy took him and he would not bear | M |
Removal so I fitted up for him | F2 |
Those rooms beside the sea to please his whim | F2 |
And sent him busts and books and urns for flowers | I2 |
Which had adorned his life in happier hours | I2 |
And instruments of music you may guess | I2 |
A stranger could do little more or less | I2 |
For one so gentle and unfortunate | O |
And those are his sweet strains which charm the weight | O |
From madmen's chains and make this Hell appear | M |
A heaven of sacred silence hushed to hear ' | A2 |
'Nay this was kind of you he had no claim | Q |
As the world says' 'None but the very same | Q |
Which I on all mankind were I as he | I |
Fallen to such deep reverse his melody | I |
Is interrupted now we hear the din | B2 |
Of madmen shriek on shriek again begin | B2 |
Let us now visit him after this strain | B2 |
He ever communes with himself again | B2 |
And sees nor hears not any ' Having said | O |
These words we called the keeper and he led | O |
To an apartment opening on the sea | I |
There the poor wretch was sitting mournfully | A |
Near a piano his pale fingers twined | O |
One with the other and the ooze and wind | O |
Rushed through an open casement and did sway | I2 |
His hair and starred it with the brackish spray | I2 |
His head was leaning on a music book | H2 |
And he was muttering and his lean limbs shook | H2 |
His lips were pressed against a folded leaf | J2 |
In hue too beautiful for health and grief | J2 |
Smiled in their motions as they lay apart | O |
As one who wrought from his own fervid heart | O |
The eloquence of passion soon he raised | O |
His sad meek face and eyes lustrous and glazed | O |
And spoke sometimes as one who wrote and thought | O |
His words might move some heart that heeded not | O |
If sent to distant lands and then as one | B2 |
Reproaching deeds never to be undone | B2 |
With wondering self compassion then his speech | K2 |
Was lost in grief and then his words came each | K2 |
Unmodulated cold expressionless | I2 |
But that from one jarred accent you might guess | I2 |
It was despair made them so uniform | L2 |
And all the while the loud and gusty storm | L2 |
Hissed through the window and we stood behind | O |
Stealing his accents from the envious wind | O |
Unseen I yet remember what he said | O |
Distinctly such impression his words made | O |
- | |
'Month after month ' he cried 'to bear this load | O |
And as a jade urged by the whip and goad | O |
To drag life on which like a heavy chain | B2 |
Lengthens behind with many a link of pain | B2 |
And not to speak my grief O not to dare | M |
To give a human voice to my despair | M |
But live and move and wretched thing smile on | B2 |
As if I never went aside to groan | B2 |
And wear this mask of falsehood even to those | I2 |
Who are most dear not for my own repose | I2 |
Alas no scorn or pain or hate could be | I |
So heavy as that falsehood is to me | I |
But that I cannot bear more altered faces | I2 |
Than needs must be more changed and cold embraces | I2 |
More misery disappointment and mistrust | O |
To own me for their father Would the dust | O |
Were covered in upon my body now | B2 |
That the life ceased to toil within my brow | B2 |
And then these thoughts would at the least be fled | O |
Let us not fear such pain can vex the dead | O |
- | |
'What Power delights to torture us I know | A |
That to myself I do not wholly owe | A |
What now I suffer though in part I may | I2 |
Alas none strewed sweet flowers upon the way | I2 |
Where wandering heedlessly I met pale Pain | B2 |
My shadow which will leave me not again | B2 |
If I have erred there was no joy in error | M |
But pain and insult and unrest and terror | M |
I have not as some do bought penitence | I2 |
With pleasure and a dark yet sweet offence | I2 |
For then if love and tenderness and truth | G2 |
Had overlived hope's momentary youth | G2 |
My creed should have redeemed me from repenting | H2 |
But loathed scorn and outrage unrelenting | H2 |
Met love excited by far other seeming | H2 |
Until the end was gained as one from dreaming | H2 |
Of sweetest peace I woke and found my state | O |
Such as it is | I2 |
'O Thou my spirit's mate | O |
Who for thou art compassionate and wise | I2 |
Wouldst pity me from thy most gentle eyes | I2 |
If this sad writing thou shouldst ever see | I2 |
My secret groans must be unheard by thee | I2 |
Thou wouldst weep tears bitter as blood to know | A |
Thy lost friend's incommunicable woe | A |
- | |
'Ye few by whom my nature has been weighed | O |
In friendship let me not that name degrade | O |
By placing on your hearts the secret load | O |
Which crushes mine to dust There is one road | O |
To peace and that is truth which follow ye | I2 |
Love sometimes leads astray to misery | I2 |
Yet think not though subdued and I may well | A |
Say that I am subdued that the full Hell | A |
Within me would infect the untainted breast | O |
Of sacred nature with its own unrest | O |
As some perverted beings think to find | O |
In scorn or hate a medicine for the mind | O |
Which scorn or hate have wounded O how vain | B2 |
The dagger heals not but may rend again | B2 |
Believe that I am ever still the same | Q |
In creed as in resolve and what may tame | Q |
My heart must leave the understanding free | I2 |
Or all would sink in this keen agony | I2 |
Nor dream that I will join the vulgar cry | W |
Or with my silence sanction tyranny | I2 |
Or seek a moment's shelter from my pain | B2 |
In any madness which the world calls gain | B2 |
Ambition or revenge or thoughts as stern | B2 |
As those which make me what I am or turn | B2 |
To avarice or misanthropy or lust | O |
Heap on me soon O grave thy welcome dust | O |
Till then the dungeon may demand its prey | I2 |
And Poverty and Shame may meet and say | I2 |
Halting beside me on the public way | I2 |
That love devoted youth is ours let's sit | O |
Beside him he may live some six months yet | O |
Or the red scaffold as our country bends | I2 |
May ask some willing victim or ye friends | I2 |
May fall under some sorrow which this heart | O |
Or hand may share or vanquish or avert | O |
I am prepared in truth with no proud joy | M2 |
To do or suffer aught as when a boy | M2 |
I did devote to justice and to love | K |
My nature worthless now | B2 |
'I must remove | N2 |
A veil from my pent mind 'Tis torn aside | O |
O pallid as Death's dedicated bride | O |
Thou mockery which art sitting by my side | O |
Am I not wan like thee at the grave's call | A |
I haste invited to thy wedding ball | A |
To greet the ghastly paramour for whom | O2 |
Thou hast deserted me and made the tomb | O2 |
Thy bridal bed But I beside your feet | O |
Will lie and watch ye from my winding sheet | O |
Thus wide awake tho' dead yet stay O stay | I2 |
Go not so soon I know not what I say | I2 |
Hear but my reasons I am mad I fear | M |
My fancy is o'erwrought thou art not here | M |
Pale art thou 'tis most true but thou art gone | B2 |
Thy work is finished I am left alone | B2 |
- | |
'Nay was it I who wooed thee to this breast | O |
Which like a serpent thou envenomest | O |
As in repayment of the warmth it lent | O |
Didst thou not seek me for thine own content | O |
Did not thy love awaken mine I thought | O |
That thou wert she who said You kiss me not | O |
Ever I fear you do not love me now | B2 |
In truth I loved even to my overthrow | A |
Her who would fain forget these words but they | I2 |
Cling to her mind and cannot pass away | I2 |
- | |
'You say that I am proud that when I speak | H2 |
My lip is tortured with the wrongs which break | H2 |
The spirit it expresses Never one | B2 |
Humbled himself before as I have done | B2 |
Even the instinctive worm on which we tread | O |
Turns though it wound not then with prostrate head | O |
Sinks in the dusk and writhes like me and dies | I2 |
No wears a living death of agonies | I2 |
As the slow shadows of the pointed grass | I2 |
Mark the eternal periods his pangs pass | I2 |
Slow ever moving making moments be | I2 |
As mine seem each an immortality | I2 |
- | |
'That you had never seen me never heard | O |
My voice and more than all had ne'er endured | O |
The deep pollution of my loathed embrace | I2 |
That your eyes ne'er had lied love in my face | I2 |
That like some maniac monk I had torn out | O |
The nerves of manhood by their bleeding root | O |
With mine own quivering fingers so that ne'er | M |
Our hearts had for a moment mingled there | M |
To disunite in horror these were not | O |
With thee like some suppressed and hideous thought | O |
Which flits athwart our musings but can find | O |
No rest within a pure and gentle mind | O |
Thou sealedst them with many a bare broad word | O |
And searedst my memory o'er them for I heard | O |
And can forget not they were ministered | O |
One after one those curses Mix them up | P2 |
Like self destroying poisons in one cup | P2 |
And they will make one blessing which thou ne'er | M |
Didst imprecate for on me death | G2 |
- | |
'It were | M |
A cruel punishment for one most cruel | A |
If such can love to make that love the fuel | A |
Of the mind's hell hate scorn remorse despair | M |
But ME whose heart a stranger's tear might wear | M |
As water drops the sandy fountain stone | B2 |
Who loved and pitied all things and could moan | B2 |
For woes which others hear not and could see | I2 |
The absent with the glance of phantasy | I2 |
And with the poor and trampled sit and weep | Q2 |
Following the captive to his dungeon deep | Q2 |
ME who am as a nerve o'er which do creep | Q2 |
The else unfelt oppressions of this earth | G2 |
And was to thee the flame upon thy hearth | G2 |
When all beside was cold that thou on me | I2 |
Shouldst rain these plagues of blistering agony | I2 |
Such curses are from lips once eloquent | O |
With love's too partial praise let none relent | O |
Who intend deeds too dreadful for a name | Q |
Henceforth if an example for the same | Q |
They seek for thou on me lookedst so and so | I2 |
And didst speak thus and thus I live to show | I2 |
How much men bear and die not | O |
- | |
'Thou wilt tell | A |
With the grimace of hate how horrible | A |
It was to meet my love when thine grew less | I2 |
Thou wilt admire how I could e'er address | I2 |
Such features to love's work this taunt though true | M |
For indeed Nature nor in form nor hue | M |
Bestowed on me her choicest workmanship | R2 |
Shall not be thy defence for since thy lip | R2 |
Met mine first years long past since thine eye kindled | O |
With soft fire under mine I have not dwindled | O |
Nor changed in mind or body or in aught | O |
But as love changes what it loveth not | O |
After long years and many trials | I2 |
- | |
'How vain | B2 |
Are words I thought never to speak again | B2 |
Not even in secret not to mine own heart | O |
But from my lips the unwilling accents start | O |
And from my pen the words flow as I write | O |
Dazzling my eyes with scalding tears my sight | O |
Is dim to see that charactered in vain | B2 |
On this unfeeling leaf which burns the brain | B2 |
And eats into it blotting all things fair | M |
And wise and good which time had written there | M |
- | |
'Those who inflict must suffer for they see | I2 |
The work of their own hearts and this must be | I2 |
Our chastisement or recompense O child | O |
I would that thine were like to be more mild | O |
For both our wretched sakes for thine the most | O |
Who feelest already all that thou hast lost | O |
Without the power to wish it thine again | B2 |
And as slow years pass a funereal train | B2 |
Each with the ghost of some lost hope or friend | O |
Following it like its shadow wilt thou bend | O |
No thought on my dead memory | I2 |
- | |
'Alas love | K |
Fear me not against thee I would not move | N2 |
A finger in despite Do I not live | S2 |
That thou mayst have less bitter cause to grieve | T |
I give thee tears for scorn and love for hate | O |
And that thy lot may be less desolate | O |
Than his on whom thou tramplest I refrain | B2 |
From that sweet sleep which medicines all pain | B2 |
Then when thou speakest of me never say | I2 |
He could forgive not Here I cast away | I2 |
All human passions all revenge all pride | O |
I think speak act no ill I do but hide | O |
Under these words like embers every spark | H2 |
Of that which has consumed me quick and dark | H2 |
The grave is yawning as its roof shall cover | M |
My limbs with dust and worms under and over | M |
So let Oblivion hide this grief the air | M |
Closes upon my accents as despair | M |
Upon my heart let death upon despair ' | - |
- | |
He ceased and overcome leant back awhile | A |
Then rising with a melancholy smile | A |
Went to a sofa and lay down and slept | O |
A heavy sleep and in his dreams he wept | O |
And muttered some familiar name and we | I2 |
Wept without shame in his society | I2 |
I think I never was impressed so much | T2 |
The man who were not must have lacked a touch | T2 |
Of human nature then we lingered not | O |
Although our argument was quite forgot | O |
But calling the attendants went to dine | B2 |
At Maddalo's yet neither cheer nor wine | B2 |
Could give us spirits for we talked of him | F2 |
And nothing else till daylight made stars dim | F2 |
And we agreed his was some dreadful ill | A |
Wrought on him boldly yet unspeakable | A |
By a dear friend some deadly change in love | K |
Of one vowed deeply which he dreamed not of | K |
For whose sake he it seemed had fixed a blot | O |
Of falsehood on his mind which flourished not | O |
But in the light of all beholding truth | G2 |
And having stamped this canker on his youth | G2 |
She had abandoned him and how much more | M |
Might be his woe we guessed not he had store | M |
Of friends and fortune once as we could guess | I2 |
From his nice habits and his gentleness | I2 |
These were now lost it were a grief indeed | O |
If he had changed one unsustaining reed | O |
For all that such a man might else adorn | B2 |
The colours of his mind seemed yet unworn | B2 |
For the wild language of his grief was high | W |
Such as in measure were called poetry | I2 |
And I remember one remark which then | B2 |
Maddalo made He said 'Most wretched men | B2 |
Are cradled into poetry by wrong | H2 |
They learn in suffering what they teach in song ' | - |
- | |
If I had been an unconnected man | B2 |
I from this moment should have formed some plan | B2 |
Never to leave sweet Venice for to me | I2 |
It was delight to ride by the lone sea | I2 |
And then the town is silent one may write | O |
Or read in gondolas by day or night | O |
Having the little brazen lamp alight | O |
Unseen uninterrupted books are there | M |
Pictures and casts from all those statues fair | M |
Which were twin born with poetry and all | A |
We seek in towns with little to recall | A |
Regrets for the green country I might sit | O |
In Maddalo's great palace and his wit | O |
And subtle talk would cheer the winter night | O |
And make me know myself and the firelight | O |
Would flash upon our faces till the day | O |
Might dawn and make me wonder at my stay | O |
But I had friends in London too the chief | J2 |
Attraction here was that I sought relief | J2 |
From the deep tenderness that maniac wrought | O |
Within me 'twas perhaps an idle thought | O |
But I imagined that if day by day | O |
I watched him and but seldom went away | O |
And studied all the beatings of his heart | O |
With zeal as men study some stubborn art | O |
For their own good and could by patience find | O |
An entrance to the caverns of his mind | O |
I might reclaim him from this dark estate | O |
In friendships I had been most fortunate | O |
Yet never saw I one whom I would call | A |
More willingly my friend and this was all | A |
Accomplished not such dreams of baseless good | O |
Oft come and go in crowds or solitude | O |
And leave no trace but what I now designed | O |
Made for long years impression on my mind | O |
The following morning urged by my affairs | I2 |
I left bright Venice | I2 |
After many years | I2 |
And many changes I returned the name | Q |
Of Venice and its aspect was the same | Q |
But Maddalo was travelling far away | O |
Among the mountains of Armenia | B2 |
His dog was dead His child had now become | U2 |
A woman such as it has been my doom | O2 |
To meet with few a wonder of this earth | G2 |
Where there is little of transcendent worth | G2 |
Like one of Shakespeare's women kindly she | I2 |
And with a manner beyond courtesy | I2 |
Received her father's friend and when I asked | O |
Of the lorn maniac she her memory tasked | O |
And told as she had heard the mournful tale | A |
'That the poor sufferer's health began to fail | A |
Two years from my departure but that then | B2 |
The lady who had left him came again | B2 |
Her mien had been imperious but she now | B2 |
Looked meek perhaps remorse had brought her low | I2 |
Her coming made him better and they stayed | O |
Together at my father's for I played | O |
As I remember with the lady's shawl | A |
I might be six years old but after all | A |
She left him ' 'Why her heart must have been tough | V2 |
How did it end ' 'And was not this enough | V2 |
They met they parted ' 'Child is there no more ' | - |
'Something within that interval which bore | M |
The stamp of WHY they parted HOW they met | O |
Yet if thine aged eyes disdain to wet | O |
Those wrinkled cheeks with youth's remembered tears | I2 |
Ask me no more but let the silent years | I2 |
Be closed and cered over their memory | I2 |
As yon mute marble where their corpses lie ' | - |
I urged and questioned still she told me how | B2 |
All happened but the cold world shall not know | I2 |
- | |
- | |
CANCELLED FRAGMENTS OF JULIAN AND MADDALO | A |
- | |
'What think you the dead are ' 'Why dust and clay | A |
What should they be ' ''Tis the last hour of day | A |
Look on the west how beautiful it is | I2 |
Vaulted with radiant vapours The deep bliss | I2 |
Of that unutterable light has made | O |
The edges of that cloud fade | O |
Into a hue like some harmonious thought | O |
Wasting itself on that which it had wrought | O |
Till it dies and between | B2 |
The light hues of the tender pure serene | B2 |
And infinite tranquillity of heaven | B2 |
Ay beautiful but when not ' | - |
- | |
'Perhaps the only comfort which remains | I2 |
Is the unheeded clanking of my chains | I2 |
The which I make and call it melody ' | - |
Percy Bysshe Shelley
(1)
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