2.
Dark is the realm of grief: but human things
Those may not know who cannot weep for them. _10

...

3.
Once more descend
The shadows of my soul upon mankind,
For to those hearts with which they never blend,
Thoughts are but shadows which the flashing mind
From the swift clouds which track its flight of fire, _15
Casts on the gloomy world it leaves behind.

...

***


'O THAT A CHARIOT OF CLOUD WERE MINE'.

[Published by Dr. Garnett, "Relics of Shelley", 1862.]

O that a chariot of cloud were mine!
Of cloud which the wild tempest weaves in air,
When the moon over the ocean's line
Is spreading the locks of her bright gray hair.
O that a chariot of cloud were mine! _5
I would sail on the waves of the billowy wind
To the mountain peak and the rocky lake,