Letter to Joseph Severn, 29 November 1821, p. 3
among the most sacred relics of the past.
For my part, I little expected when
I last saw Keats at my friend Leigh
Hunts’, that I should survive him.—
Should you ever pass through Pisa
I hope to have the pleasure of seeing
you, & of cultivating an acquaintance
into something pleasant begun under
such melancholy auspices.—
Accept my dear sir the assurances
of my sincere esteem, & believe
me
Your most sincere & faithful ser[vant].
Percy B. Shelley
Do you know Leigh Hunt? I expect
him & his family here every day.
Mutability ["We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon"]
I.
We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed and gleam and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly! yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:—
II.
Or like forgotten lyres whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
III.
We rest—a dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise—one wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep,
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:—
IV.
It is the same!—For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free;
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutability.
