SHELLEY

by: Henry van Dyke (1852-1933)

      NIGHT-ERRANT of the Never-ending Quest,
      And Minstrel of the Unfulfilled Desire;
      For ever tuning thy frail earthly lyre
      To some unearthly music, and possessed
      With painful passionate longing to invest
      The golden dream of Love's immortal fire
      In mortal robes of beautiful attire,
      And fold perfection to thy throbbing breast!
       
      What wonder, Shelley, if the restless wave
      Should claim thee and the leaping flame consume
      Thy drifted form on Viareggio's beach?
      Fate to thy body gave a fitting grave,
      And bade thy soul ride on with fiery plume,
      Thy wild song ring in ocean's yearning speech!

"Shelley" is reprinted from The White Bees and Other Poems. Henry van Dyke. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1909.

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