Shelley

Through golden years the fame of Shelley grows
From height to height
His name is echoed — In his song the rose
Became more bright

He recreated all this world of things:
He made all new.
Whiter he made the sea-bird's flashing wings,
The waves more blue

He thrilled the Italian air with heavenlier gleams
His genius brought
Mankind is nearer God for Shelley's dreams
And Shelley's thought.

And yet, while thousands journey to his tomb
And mourn and weep,
What of the child who through the dark waves' gloom
Passed to her sleep?

Never have human sorrowing eyes grown dim
At her young grave:
Who wails for her, while all hearts weep for him?
The wind, the wave!

Yet less than his I think her spirit erred
Who could not bear
Love's loss. She gave him love, but he conferred
Man's gift, despair
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