ALASTOR

OR

THE SPIRIT OF SOLITUDE

[Publ. 1816]

Nondum amabam, et amare amabam, quærebam quid amarem, amans amare. Confessions of St. Augustine.

MRS. SHELLEY, in her account of Alastor, writes as follows: "None of Shelley's poems is more characteristic than this. The solemn spirit that reigns throughout, the worship of the majesty of nature, the broodings of a poet's heart in solitude- the mingling of the exulting joy which the various aspect of the visible universe inspires, with the sad and struggling pangs which human passion imparts, give a touching interest to the whole. The death which he had often contemplated during the last months as certain and near, he here represented in such colors as had, in his lonely musings, soothed his soul to peace. The versification sustains the solemn spirit which breathes throughout: it is peculiarly melodious. The poem ought rather to be considered didactic than narrative it was the outpouring of his own emotions, embodied in the purest form he could conceive, painted in the ideal hues which his brilliant imagination inspired, and softened by the recent anticipation of death."

Shelley himself, in his Preface, outlines the character of the story: "The poem entitled Alastor may be considered as allegorical of one of the most interesting situations of the human mind. It represents a youth of uncorrupted feelings and adventurous genius led forth by an imagination inflamed and purified through familiarity with all that is excellent and majestic to the contemplation of the universe. He drinks deep of the fountains of knowledge and is still insatiate. The magnificence and beauty of the external world sink profoundly into the frame of his conceptions and afford to their modifications a variety not to be exhausted. So long as it is possible for his desires to point towards objects thus infinite and unmeasured, he is joyous and tranquil and self-possessed. But the period arrives when these objects cease to suffice. His mind is at length suddenly awakened and thirsts for intercourse with an intelligence similar to itself. He images to himself the Being whom he loves. Conversant with speculations of the sublimest and most perfect natures, the vision in which he embodies his own imaginations unites all of wonderful or wise or beautiful, which the poet, the philosopher or the lover could depicture. The intellectual faculties, the imagination, the functions of sense have their respective requisitions on the sym

pathy of corresponding powers in other human beings. The Poet is represented as uniting these requisitions and attaching them to a singl image. He seeks in vain for a prototype of hi conception. Blasted by his disappointment, he descends to an untimely grave.'

EARTH, Ocean, Air, beloved brotherhood!
If our great Mother has imbued my soul
With aught of natural piety to feel
Your love, and recompense the boon with
mine;

If dewy morn, and odorous noon, and even,
With sunset and its gorgeous ministers,
And solemn midnight's tingling silentness;
If Autumn's hollow sighs in the sere wood,
And Winter robing with pure snow and

Mother of this unfathomable world!
Favor my solemn song, for I have loved 19
Thee ever, and thee only; I have watched
Thy shadow, and the darkness of thy steps,
And my heart ever gazes on the depth
Of thy deep mysteries. I have made my bed
In charnels and on coffins, where black death
Keeps record of the trophies won from thee,
Hoping to still these obstinate questionings
Of thee and thine, by forcing some lone
ghost,

Thy messenger, to render up the tale
Of what we are. In lone and silent hours,
When night makes a weird sound of its

The eloquent blood told an ineffable tale.
The beating of her heart was heard to fill
The pauses of her music, and her breath
Tumultuously accorded with those fits 171
Of intermitted song. Sudden she rose,
As if her heart impatiently endured

Its bursting burden; at the sound he turned, And saw by the warm light of their own life

Her glowing limbs beneath the sinuous veil Of woven wind, her outspread arms now bare,

Her dark locks floating in the breath of night,

Her beamy bending eyes, her parted lips Outstretched, and pale, and quivering eagerly.

180

His strong heart sunk and sickened with

excess

Of love. He reared his shuddering limbs, and quelled