Shelley! I sing to thee beneath the heath.
Heart of hearts, above thee, the brooding tower
Evokes despairing thoughts of the sad hour
Life fled and left you to flounder beneath
Lerici's tides until you felt Death's sting.
Enduring, though, your name is, which I sing,
Yoked to your songs which through the ages ring!
Heart of hearts, above thee, the brooding tower
Evokes despairing thoughts of the sad hour
Life fled and left you to flounder beneath
Lerici's tides until you felt Death's sting.
Enduring, though, your name is, which I sing,
Yoked to your songs which through the ages ring!
[I recently visited the graves of my favourite poets Shelley and Keats where they rest in the shadow of a pyramid in a corner of Rome. On a plaque close to Keats' grave is the following acrostic ( Keats asked for the inscription 'His name is writ on water' to be put on his tombstone because he believed he would not be remembered after his death because his poetry was criticized whilst alive):
Keats! if thy cherished name be "writ in water"
Each drop has fallen from some mourner's cheek;
Assured tribute; such as heroes seek,
Though oft in vain - for dazzling deeds of slaughter
Sleep on! Not honoured less for Epitaph so meek!
The image below is of Shelley's grave with the inscription 'Cor Cordium' meaning 'Heart of Hearts'. As I stood before the grave which is directly underneath a ramshackle brick tower, the words of the poem above came to me. Shelley died in a boating accident in Lerici, Italy , drowning because he couldn't swim. He was a month shy of turning 30. Happy reading if you do! R.]
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