With Shelley in Italy : being a selection of the poems and letters of Percy Bysshe Shelley which have to do with his life in Italy from 1818 to 1822 . green and purple seaweeds strewn jI see the waves upon the shore. Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown:[73] WITH SHELLEY LN ITALY I sit upon the sands alone,,The lightning of the noontide oceanIs flashing round me, and a toneArises from its measured motion,How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion. ni Alas ! I have nor hope nor health,Nor peace within nor calm around. Nor that content surpassing wealthThe sage in meditation found.
With Shelley in Italy : being a selection of the poems and letters of Percy Bysshe Shelley which have to do with his life in Italy from 1818 to 1822 . green and purple seaweeds strewn jI see the waves upon the shore. Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown:[73] WITH SHELLEY LN ITALY I sit upon the sands alone,,The lightning of the noontide oceanIs flashing round me, and a toneArises from its measured motion,How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion. ni Alas ! I have nor hope nor health,Nor peace within nor calm around. Nor that content surpassing wealthThe sage in meditation walked with inward glory crowned — Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor I see whom these surround — Smiling they live, and call life pleasure; —To me that cup has been dealt in another measure. IV Yet now despair itself is mild. Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child,And weep away the life of careWhich I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the seaBreathe oer my dying brain its last monotony. [74]. THE YEAR 1818 V Some might lament that I were I, when this sweet day is gone,Which my lost heart, too soon grown old,Insults with this untimely moan;They might lament — for I am oneWhom men love not, — and yet regret,Unlike this day, which, when the sunShall on its stainless glory linger, though enjoyed, like joy in memory , 1818. Naples, December 22, 1818. External nature in these delightful regions contrastswith and compensates for the deformity and degradation ofhumanity. We have a lodging divided from the sea bythe royal gardens, and from our windows we see perpetuallythe blue waters of the bay, forever changing, yet foreverthe same, and encompassed by the mountainous island ofCaprese, the lofty peaks which overhang Salerno, and thewoody hill of Posilipo, whose promontories hide from usMisenum and the
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