GREEK SOURCES OF SHELLEY^S ADONAIS 317 



Stanzas XXII-XXIV. 



He will awake no more, oh, never more I 



"Wake thou," cried Misery, "childless Mother, rise 



Out of thy sleep, and slake, in thy heart's core, 



A wound more fierce than were his tears and sighs." 



And all the Dreams that watched Urania's eyes. 



And all the Echoes whom their sister's song 



Had held in holy silence cried, "Arise ! " 



Swift as a thought by the snake memory stung, 



From her ambrosial nest the fading Splendour sprung. 



She rose like an autumnal night, that springs 



Out of the East, and follows wild and drear 



The golden Day, which, on eternal wings. 



Even as a ghost abandoning a bier, 



Has left the Earth a corpse; — sorrow and fear 



So struck, so roused, so rapt, Urania, 



So saddened round her like an atmosphere 



Of stormy mist; so swept her on her w^ay 



Even to the mournful place where Adonais lay. 



Out of her secret Paradise she sped, 



Through camps and cities rough with stone, and steel. 



And human hearts, which to her airy tread 



Yielding not, wounded the invisible 



Palms of her tender feet where'er they fell; 



And barbed tongues, and thoughts more sharp than they 



Rent the soft form they never could repel. 



Whose sacred blood, like the young tears of May, 



Paved with eternal flowers that undeserving way. 



This is an imitation of the lines of Bion, which describe the dis- 

 traction of Aphrodite when she awakens to the death of Adonis. 



3-5. No longer sleep in thy robes of purple Cypris. Arouse 



