And like a dying lady, lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky East,
A white and shapeless mass—
Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?
Notes
Form:
aabbcd
1.These are among the many short fragments from Shelley's MSS. published by
Mary Shelley, the poet's wife, in her editions of 1824 and 1839. There she entitles
this poem The Waning Moon.
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Comments
-
Thanks a lot jemini for the consideration and for the utmost completion of the poem .now the music of the poem is different. It sounds great!
Edited on Sep 24, 6:21 p.m. because ''. -
Ahkam - it was incomplete and now the second stanza has been added. It may still be incomplete as this was one of the poems published by Shelleys's wife after his death.
Thank you for your input.
~Von~ -
Its a very good piece of thought but seems to be incomplete
Edited on Sep 24, 6:16 p.m. because ''.
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