A golden-winged Angel stood
Before the Eternal Judgement-seat: 
His looks were wild, and Devils’ blood
Stained his dainty hands and feet. 
The Father and the Son 5
Knew that strife was now begun. 
They knew that Satan had broken his chain,
And with millions of daemons in his train,
Was ranging over the world again. 
Before the Angel had told his tale, 10
A sweet and a creeping sound
Like the rushing of wings was heard around;
And suddenly the lamps grew pale—­
The lamps, before the Archangels seven,
That burn continually in Heaven. 15

***

FRAGMENT:  “IGNICULUS DESIDERII”.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 1st edition.  This fragment is amongst the Shelley manuscripts at the Bodleian.  See Mr. C.D.  Locock’s “Examination”, etc., 1903, page 63.]

To thirst and find no fill—­to wail and wander
With short unsteady steps—­to pause and ponder—­
To feel the blood run through the veins and tingle
Where busy thought and blind sensation mingle;
To nurse the image of unfelt caresses 5
Till dim imagination just possesses
The half-created shadow, then all the night
Sick...

NOTES:  2 unsteady B.; uneasy 1839, 1st edition. 7, 8 then...Sick B.; wanting, 1839, 1st edition.

***

FRAGMENT:  “AMOR AETERNUS”.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 1st edition.]

Wealth and dominion fade into the mass
Of the great sea of human right and wrong,
When once from our possession they must pass;
But love, though misdirected, is among
The things which are immortal, and surpass 5
All that frail stuff which will be—­or which was.

***

FRAGMENT:  THOUGHTS COME AND GO IN SOLITUDE.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 1st edition.]

My thoughts arise and fade in solitude,
The verse that would invest them melts away
Like moonlight in the heaven of spreading day: 
How beautiful they were, how firm they stood,
Flecking the starry sky like woven pearl! 5

***

A HATE-SONG.

[Published by Rossetti, “Complete Poetical Works of P. B. S.”, 1870.]

A hater he came and sat by a ditch,
And he took an old cracked lute;
And he sang a song which was more of a screech
’Gainst a woman that was a brute.

***

LINES TO A CRITIC.