2. 
I can give not what men call love,
But wilt thou accept not 10
The worship the heart lifts above
And the Heavens reject not,—­
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar 15
From the sphere of our sorrow?

***

TO —.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Posthumous Poems”, 1824.  There is a Boscombe manuscript.]

1. 
When passion’s trance is overpast,
If tenderness and truth could last,
Or live, whilst all wild feelings keep
Some mortal slumber, dark and deep,
I should not weep, I should not weep! 5

2. 
It were enough to feel, to see,
Thy soft eyes gazing tenderly,
And dream the rest—­and burn and be
The secret food of fires unseen,
Couldst thou but be as thou hast been, 10

3. 
After the slumber of the year
The woodland violets reappear;
All things revive in field or grove,
And sky and sea, but two, which move
And form all others, life and love. 15

NOTE: 
15 form Boscombe manuscript; for editions 1824, 1839.

***

A BRIDAL SONG.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Posthumous Poems”, 1824.]

1. 
The golden gates of Sleep unbar
Where Strength and Beauty, met together,
Kindle their image like a star
In a sea of glassy weather! 
Night, with all thy stars look down,—­ 5
Darkness, weep thy holiest dew,—­
Never smiled the inconstant moon
On a pair so true. 
Let eyes not see their own delight;—­
Haste, swift Hour, and thy flight 10
Oft renew.

2. 
Fairies, sprites, and angels, keep her! 
Holy stars, permit no wrong! 
And return to wake the sleeper,
Dawn,—­ere it be long! 15
O joy!  O fear! what will be done
In the absence of the sun! 
Come along!

***

EPITHALAMIUM.

ANOTHER VERSION OF THE PRECEDING.

[Published by Medwin, “Life of Shelley”, 1847.]

Night, with all thine eyes look down! 
Darkness shed its holiest dew! 
When ever smiled the inconstant moon
On a pair so true? 
Hence, coy hour! and quench thy light, 5
Lest eyes see their own delight! 
Hence, swift hour! and thy loved flight
Oft renew.