ADONAIS. I. I WEEP for Adonais- he is dead! O, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head! Forget the Past, his fate and fame shall be II. Where wert thou mighty Mother, when he lay, When thy Son lay, pierced by the shaft which flies In darkness? where was lorn Urania When Adonais died? With veilèd eyes, 'Mid listening Echoes, in her Paradise She sate, while one, with soft enamoured breath, With which, like flowers that mock the corse beneath, He had adorned and hid the coming bulk of death. Wake, melancholy Mother, wake and weep! For he is gone, where all things wise and fair Death feeds on his mute voice, and laughs at our despair. IV. Most musical of mourners, weep again! Who was the Sire of an immortal strain, Blind, old, and lonely, when his country's pride, The priest, the slave, and the liberticide, Trampled and mocked with many a loathed rite Of lust and blood; he went, unterrified, Into the gulf of death; but his clear Sprite Yet reigns o'er earth; the third among the sons of light. V. Most musical of mourners, weep anew! Not all to that bright station dared to climb; And happier they their happiness who knew, And some yet live, treading the thorny road, Which leads, through toil and hate, to Fame's serene abode. VI. But now, thy youngest, dearest one has perished, Thy extreme hope, the loveliest and the last, VII. To that high Capital, where kingly Death He came; and bought, with price of purest breath, Haste, while the vault of blue Italian day Is yet his fitting charnel-roof! while still He lies, as if in dewy sleep he lay ; Awake him not! surely he takes his fill Of deep and liquid rest, forgetful of all ill. VIII. He will awake no more, oh, never more ! - His extreme way to her dim dwelling-place; Of change, shall o'er his sleep the mortal curtain draw. IX. O, weep for Adonais ! - The quick Dreams, Who were his flocks, whom near the living streams Wander no more, from kindling brain to brain, But droop there, whence they sprung; and mourn their lot Round the cold heart, where, after their sweet pain, They ne'er will gather strength, or find a home again. X. And one with trembling hands clasps his cold head, And fans him with her moonlight wings, and cries: “Our love, our hope, our sorrow, is not dead ; "See, on the silken fringe of his faint eyes, "Like dew upon a sleeping flower, there lies "A tear some Dream has loosened from his brain." Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise ! She knew not 'twas her own; as with no stain She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain. XI. One from a lucid urn of starry dew Washed his light limbs as if embalming them; A greater loss with one which was more weak; XII. Another Splendour on his mouth alit, That mouth, whence it was wont to draw the breath Which gave it strength to pierce the guarded wit, And pass into the panting heart beneath |