drama out of such scant materials.  His prophecies, indeed, came true in their general, not their particular, purport.  He did not foresee the death of Lord Londonderry, which was to be the epoch of a change in English politics, particularly as regarded foreign affairs; nor that the navy of his country would fight for instead of against the Greeks, and by the battle of Navarino secure their enfranchisement from the Turks.  Almost against reason, as it appeared to him, he resolved to believe that Greece would prove triumphant; and in this spirit, auguring ultimate good, yet grieving over the vicissitudes to be endured in the interval, he composed his drama.

“Hellas” was among the last of his compositions, and is among the most beautiful.  The choruses are singularly imaginative, and melodious in their versification.  There are some stanzas that beautifully exemplify Shelley’s peculiar style; as, for instance, the assertion of the intellectual empire which must be for ever the inheritance of the country of Homer, Sophocles, and Plato:—­

    ’But Greece and her foundations are
    Built below the tide of war,
    Based on the crystalline sea
    Of thought and its eternity.’

And again, that philosophical truth felicitously imaged forth—­

    ’Revenge and Wrong bring forth their kind,
    The foul cubs like their parents are,
    Their den is in the guilty mind,
    And Conscience feeds them with despair.’

The conclusion of the last chorus is among the most beautiful of his lyrics.  The imagery is distinct and majestic; the prophecy, such as poets love to dwell upon, the Regeneration of Mankind—­and that regeneration reflecting back splendour on the foregone time, from which it inherits so much of intellectual wealth, and memory of past virtuous deeds, as must render the possession of happiness and peace of tenfold value.

Note on the early poems, by Mrs. Shelley.

The remainder of Shelley’s Poems will be arranged in the order in which they were written.  Of course, mistakes will occur in placing some of the shorter ones; for, as I have said, many of these were thrown aside, and I never saw them till I had the misery of looking over his writings after the hand that traced them was dust; and some were in the hands of others, and I never saw them till now.  The subjects of the poems are often to me an unerring guide; but on other occasions I can only guess, by finding them in the pages of the same manuscript book that contains poems with the date of whose composition I am fully conversant.  In the present arrangement all his poetical translations will be placed together at the end.