Queen Mab

Queen Mab

by

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Queen Mab.

To Harriet

Queen Mab.

Shelley’s Notes.

Note on Queen Mab, by Mrs. Shelley.

Queen Mab.

ECRASEZ L’INFAME!

— Correspondance de Voltaire.

Avia Pieridum peragro loca, nullius ante

Trita solo; juvat integros accedere fonteis;

Atque haurire: juvatque novos decerpere flores.

. . .

Unde prius nulli velarint tempora musae.

Primum quod magnis doceo de rebus; et arctis

Religionum animos nodis exsolvere pergo.

— Lucret. lib. 4.

Äïó ðïí óôï, êáé êïóìïí êéíåóï

— Archimedes.

To Harriet.

Whose is the love that gleaming through the world,

Wards off the poisonous arrow of its scorn?

Whose is the warm and partial praise,

Virtue’s most sweet reward?

5

Beneath whose looks did my reviving soul

Riper in truth and virtuous daring grow?

Whose eyes have I gazed fondly on,

And loved mankind the more?

HARRIET! on thine:— thou wert my purer mind;

10

Thou wert the inspiration of my song;

Thine are these early wilding flowers,

Though garlanded by me.

Then press into thy breast this pledge of love;

And know, though time may change and years may roll,

15

Each floweret gathered in my heart

It consecrates to thine.

3. Queen Mab.

1.

How wonderful is Death,

Death and his brother Sleep!

One, pale as yonder waning moon

With lips of lurid blue;

5

The other, rosy as the morn

When throned on ocean’s wave

It blushes o’er the world:

Yet both so passing wonderful!

Hath then the gloomy Power

10

Whose reign is in the tainted sepulchres

Seized on her sinless soul?

Must then that peerless form

Which love and admiration cannot view

Without a beating heart, those azure veins

15

Which steal like streams along a field of snow,

That lovely outline, which is fair

As breathing marble, perish?

Must putrefaction’s breath

Leave nothing of this heavenly sight

20

But loathsomeness and ruin?

Spare nothing but a gloomy theme,

On which the lightest heart might moralize?

Or is it only a sweet slumber

Stealing o’er sensation,

25

Which the breath of roseate morning

Chaseth into darkness?

Will Ianthe wake again,

And give that faithful bosom joy

Whose sleepless spirit waits to catch

30

Light, life and rapture from her smile?

Yes! she will wake again,

Although her glowing limbs are motionless,

And silent those sweet lips,

Once breathing eloquence,

35

That might have soothed a tiger’s rage,

Or thawed the cold heart of a conqueror.

Her dewy eyes are closed,

And on their lids, whose texture fine

Scarce hides the dark blue orbs beneath,

40

The baby Sleep is pillowed:

Her golden tresses shade

The bosom’s stainless pride,

Curling like tendrils of the parasite

Around a marble column.

45

Hark! whence that rushing sound?

’Tis like the wondrous strain

That round a lonely ruin swells,

Which, wandering on the echoing shore,

The enthusiast hears at evening:

50

’Tis softer than the west wind’s sigh;

’Tis wilder than the unmeasured notes

Of that strange lyre whose strings

The genii of the breezes sweep:

Those lines of rainbow light

55

Are like the moonbeams when they fall

Through some cathedral window, but the tints

Are such as may not find

Comparison on earth.

Behold the chariot of the Fairy Queen!

60

Celestial coursers paw the unyielding air;

Their filmy pennons at her word they furl,

And stop obedient to the reins of light:

These the Queen of Spells drew in,

She spread a charm around the spot,

65

And leaning graceful from the aethereal car,

Long did she gaze, and silently,

Upon the slumbering maid.

Oh! not the visioned poet in his dreams,

When silvery clouds float through the ‘wildered brain,

70

When every sight of lovely, wild and grand

Astonishes, enraptures, elevates,

When fancy at a glance combines

The wondrous and the beautiful —

So bright, so fair, so wild a shape

75

Hath ever yet beheld,

As that which reined the coursers of the air,

And poured the magic of her gaze

Upon the maiden’s sleep.

The broad and yellow moon

80

Shone dimly through her form —

That form of faultless symmetry;

The pearly and pellucid car

Moved not the moonlight’s line:

’Twas not an earthly pageant:

85

Those who had looked upon the sight,

Passing all human glory,

Saw not the yellow moon,

Saw not the mortal scene,

Heard not the night-wind’s rush,

90

Heard not an earthly sound,

Saw but the fairy pageant,

Heard but the heavenly strains

That filled the lonely dwelling.

The Fairy’s frame was slight, yon fibrous cloud,

95

That catches but the palest tinge of even,

And which the straining eye can hardly seize

When melting into eastern twilight’s shadow,

Were scarce so thin, so slight; but the fair star

That gems the glittering coronet of morn,

100

Sheds not a light so mild, so powerful,

As that which, bursting from the Fairy’s form,

Spread a purpureal halo round the scene,

Yet with an undulating motion,

Swayed to her outline gracefully.

105

From her celestial car

The Fairy Queen descended,

And thrice she waved her wand

Circled with wreaths of amaranth:

Her thin and misty form

110

Moved with the moving air,

And the clear silver tones,

As thus she spoke, were such

As are unheard by all but gifted ear.

FAIRY:

‘Stars! your balmiest influence shed!

115

Elements! your wrath suspend!

Sleep, Ocean, in the rocky bounds

That circle thy domain!

Let not a breath be seen to stir

Around yon grass-grown ruin’s height,

120

Let even the restless gossamer

Sleep on the moveless air!

Soul of Ianthe! thou,

Judged alone worthy of the envied boon,

That waits the good and the sincere; that waits

125

Those who have struggled, and with resolute will

Vanquished earth’s pride and meanness, burst the chains,

The icy chains of custom, and have shone

The day-stars of their age; — Soul of Ianthe!

Awake! arise!’

130

Sudden arose

Ianthe’s Soul; it stood

All beautiful in naked purity,

The perfect semblance of its bodily frame.

Instinct with inexpressible beauty and grace,

135

Each stain of earthliness

Had passed away, it reassumed

Its native dignity, and stood

Immortal amid ruin.

Upon the couch the body lay

140

Wrapped in the depth of slumber:

Its features were fixed and meaningless,

Yet animal life was there,

And every organ yet performed

Its natural functions: ’twas a sight

145

Of wonder to behold the body and soul.

The self-same lineaments, the same

Marks of identity were there:

Yet, oh, how different! One aspires to Heaven,

Pants for its sempiternal heritage,

150

And ever-changing, ever-rising still,

Wantons in endless being.

The other, for a time the unwilling sport

Of circumstance and passion, struggles on;

Fleets through its sad duration rapidly:

155

Then, like an useless and worn-out machine,

Rots, perishes, and passes.

FAIRY:

‘Spirit! who hast dived so deep;

Spirit! who hast soared so high;

Thou the fearless, thou the mild,

160

Accept the boon thy worth hath earned,

Ascend the car with me.’

SPIRIT:

‘Do I dream? Is this new feeling

But a visioned ghost of slumber?

If indeed I am a soul,

165

A free, a disembodied soul,

Speak again to me.’

FAIRY:

‘I am the Fairy MAB: to me ’tis given

The wonders of the human world to keep:

The secrets of the immeasurable past,

170

In the unfailing consciences of men,

Those stern, unflattering chroniclers, I find:

The future, from the causes which arise

In each event, I gather: not the sting

Which retributive memory implants

175

In the hard bosom of the selfish man;

Nor that ecstatic and exulting throb

Which virtue’s votary feels when he sums up

The thoughts and actions of a well-spent day,

Are unforeseen, unregistered by me:

180

And it is yet permitted me, to rend

The veil of mortal frailty, that the spirit,

Clothed in its changeless purity, may know

How soonest to accomplish the great end

For which it hath its being, and may taste

185

That peace, which in the end all life will share.

This is the meed of virtue; happy Soul,

Ascend the car with me!’

The chains of earth’s immurement

Fell from Ianthe’s spirit;

190

They shrank and brake like bandages of straw

Beneath a wakened giant’s strength.

She knew her glorious change,

And felt in apprehension uncontrolled

New raptures opening round:

195

Each day-dream of her mortal life,

Each frenzied vision of the slumbers

That closed each well-spent day,

Seemed now to meet reality.

The Fairy and the Soul proceeded;

200

The silver clouds disparted;

And as the car of magic they ascended,

Again the speechless music swelled,

Again the coursers of the air

Unfurled their azure pennons, and the Queen

205

Shaking the beamy reins

Bade them pursue their way.

The magic car moved on.

The night was fair, and countless stars

Studded Heaven’s dark blue vault —

210

Just o’er the eastern wave

Peeped the first faint smile of morn:—

The magic car moved on —

From the celestial hoofs

The atmosphere in flaming sparkles flew,

215

And where the burning wheels

Eddied above the mountain’s loftiest peak,

Was traced a line of lightning.

Now it flew far above a rock,

The utmost verge of earth,

220

The rival of the Andes, whose dark brow

Lowered o’er the silver sea.

Far, far below the chariot’s path,

Calm as a slumbering babe,

Tremendous Ocean lay.

225

The mirror of its stillness showed

The pale and waning stars,

The chariot’s fiery track,

And the gray light of morn

Tinging those fleecy clouds

230

That canopied the dawn.

Seemed it, that the chariot’s way

Lay through the midst of an immense concave,

Radiant with million constellations, tinged

With shades of infinite colour,

235

And semicircled with a belt

Flashing incessant meteors.

The magic car moved on.

As they approached their goal

The coursers seemed to gather speed;

240

The sea no longer was distinguished; earth

Appeared a vast and shadowy sphere;

The sun’s unclouded orb

Rolled through the black concave;

Its rays of rapid light

245

Parted around the chariot’s swifter course,

And fell, like ocean’s feathery spray

Dashed from the boiling surge

Before a vessel’s prow.

The magic car moved on.

250

Earth’s distant orb appeared

The smallest light that twinkles in the heaven;

Whilst round the chariot’s way

Innumerable systems rolled,

And countless spheres diffused

255

An ever-varying glory.

It was a sight of wonder: some

Were horned like the crescent moon;

Some shed a mild and silver beam

Like Hesperus o’er the western sea;

260

Some dashed athwart with trains of flame,

Like worlds to death and ruin driven;

Some shone like suns, and, as the chariot passed,

Eclipsed all other light.

Spirit of Nature! here!

265

In this interminable wilderness

Of worlds, at whose immensity

Even soaring fancy staggers,

Here is thy fitting temple.

Yet not the lightest leaf

270

That quivers to the passing breeze

Is less instinct with thee:

Yet not the meanest worm

That lurks in graves and fattens on the dead

Less shares thy eternal breath.

275

Spirit of Nature! thou!

Imperishable as this scene,

Here is thy fitting temple.

2.

If solitude hath ever led thy steps

To the wild Ocean’s echoing shore,

And thou hast lingered there,

Until the sun’s broad orb

5

Seemed resting on the burnished wave,

Thou must have marked the lines

Of purple gold, that motionless

Hung o’er the sinking sphere:

Thou must have marked the billowy clouds