6. 
I am the eye with which the Universe
Beholds itself and knows itself divine;
All harmony of instrument or verse,
All prophecy, all medicine is mine,
All light of art or nature;—­to my song 35
Victory and praise in its own right belong.

NOTES:  32 itself divine]it is divine B. 34 is B.; are 1824. 36 its cj.  Rossetti, 1870, B.; their 1824.

***

HYMN OF PAN.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Posthumous Poems”, 1824.  There is a fair draft amongst the Shelley manuscripts at the Bodleian.  See Mr. C.D.  Locock’s “Examination”, etc., 1903, page 25.]

1. 
From the forests and highlands
We come, we come;
From the river-girt islands,
Where loud waves are dumb
Listening to my sweet pipings. 5
The wind in the reeds and the rushes,
The bees on the bells of thyme,
The birds on the myrtle bushes,
The cicale above in the lime,
And the lizards below in the grass, 10
Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was,
Listening to my sweet pipings.

2. 
Liquid Peneus was flowing,
And all dark Tempe lay
In Pelion’s shadow, outgrowing 15
The light of the dying day,
Speeded by my sweet pipings. 
The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns,
And the Nymphs of the woods and the waves,
To the edge of the moist river-lawns, 20
And the brink of the dewy caves,
And all that did then attend and follow,
Were silent with love, as you now, Apollo,
With envy of my sweet pipings.

3. 
I sang of the dancing stars, 25
I sang of the daedal Earth,
And of Heaven—­and the giant wars,
And Love, and Death, and Birth,—­
And then I changed my pipings,—­
Singing how down the vale of Maenalus 30
I pursued a maiden and clasped a reed. 
Gods and men, we are all deluded thus! 
It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed: 
All wept, as I think both ye now would,
If envy or age had not frozen your blood, 35
At the sorrow of my sweet pipings.

NOTE: 
5, 12 Listening to]Listening B.

***

THE QUESTION.

[Published by Leigh Hunt (with the signature Sigma) in “The Literary Pocket-Book”, 1822.  Reprinted by Mrs. Shelley, “Posthumous Poems”, 1824.  Copies exist in the Harvard manuscript book, amongst the Boscombe manuscripts, and amongst Ollier manuscripts.]

1. 
I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way,
Bare Winter suddenly was changed to Spring,
And gentle odours led my steps astray,
Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring
Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay 5
Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling
Its green arms round the bosom of the stream,
But kissed it and then fled, as thou mightest in dream.