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 . ut this, said Maddalo, he cameTo Venice a dejected man, and fameSaid he was wealthy, or he had been so;Some thought the loss of fortune wrought him woe;But he was ever talking in such sortAs you do — far more sadly; he seemed hurt,Even as a man with his peculiar hear but of the oppression of the those absurd deceits (I think with youIn some respects you know) which carry throughThe excellent impostors of this earthWhen they ou
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 . ut this, said Maddalo, he cameTo Venice a dejected man, and fameSaid he was wealthy, or he had been so;Some thought the loss of fortune wrought him woe;But he was ever talking in such sortAs you do — far more sadly; he seemed hurt,Even as a man with his peculiar hear but of the oppression of the those absurd deceits (I think with youIn some respects you know) which carry throughThe excellent impostors of this earthWhen they outface detection: he had fellow! but a humourist in his way — Alas, what drove him mad? I cannot say;A lady came with him from France, and whenShe left him and returned, he wandered thenAbout yon lonely isles of desert sandTill he grew wild — he had no cash or landRemaining, — the police had brought him here —Some fancy took him and he would not bearEemoval; so I fitted up for himThose rooms beside the sea, to please his whim,And sent him busts and books and urns for flowersWhich had adorned his life hi happier hours,[46] THE YEAR 1818 And instruments of music — you may guess A stranger could do little more or less For one so gentle and unfortunate : And those are his sweet strains which charm the weight From madmens chains^ and make this Hell appear A heaven of sacred silence^ hushed to hear/^ — Nay, this was kind of you — he had no claim. As the world says — None — but the very same Which 1 on all mankind were I as he Fallen to such deep reverse ; — his melody Is interrupted — now we hear the din Of madmen, shriek on shriek again begin; Let us now visit him; after this strain He ever communes with himself again, And sees nor hears not any/ Having said These words we called the keeper, and he led To an apartment opening on the sea— There the poor wretch was sitting mournfully Near a piano, his pale fingers twined One with the other, and
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