[Page 46]

SHAKSPEARE.

1 O sovereign Master! who with lonely state
2 Dost rule as in some isle's enchanted land,
3 On whom soft airs and shadowy spirits wait,
4 Whilst scenes of "faerie" bloom at thy command,
5 On thy wild shores forgetful could I lie,
6 And list, till earth dissolved to thy sweet minstrelsy! [Page 47]
7 Called by thy magic from the hoary deep,
8 Aërial forms should in bright troops ascend,
9 And then a wondrous masque before me sweep;
10 Whilst sounds, that the earth owned not, seem to blend
11 Their stealing melodies, that when the strain
12 Ceased, I should weep, and would so dream again!
13 The song hath ceased. Ah! who, pale shade, art thou,
14 Sad raving to the rude tempestuous night!
15 Sure thou hast had much wrong, so stern thy brow,
16 So piteous thou dost tear thy tresses white;
17 So wildly thou dost cry, Blow, bitter wind!
18 Ye elements, I call not you unkind!
25 Lear.
19 Beneath the shade of nodding branches gray,
20 'Mid rude romantic woods, and glens forlorn,
21 The merry hunters wear the hours away;
22 Rings the deep forest to the joyous horn!
23 Joyous to all, but him,
26 Jaques: As You Like It.
who with sad look
24 Hangs idly musing by the brawling brook.
25 But mark the merry elves of fairy land!
27 Midsummer Night's Dream.
26 To the high moon's gleamy glance,
27 They with shadowy morrice dance;
28 Soft music dies along the desert sand;
29 Soon at peep of cold-eyed day,
30 Soon the numerous lights decay;
31 Merrily, now merrily,
32 After the dewy moon they fly.
33 The charm is wrought: I see an aged form,
34 In white robes, on the winding sea-shore stand;
35 O'er the careering surge he waves his wand:
36 Hark! on the bleak rock bursts the swelling storm:[Page 48]
37 Now from bright opening clouds I hear a lay,
38 Come to these yellow sands, fair stranger,
28 Ferdinand: see The Tempest.
come away!
39 Saw ye pass by the weird sisters pale!
29 See Macbeth.
40 Marked ye the lowering castle on the heath!
41 Hark, hark, is the deed done — the deed of death!
42 The deed is done: — Hail, king of Scotland, hail!
43 I see no more; — to many a fearful sound
44 The bloody cauldron sinks, and all is dark around.
45 Pity! touch the trembling strings,
46 A maid, a beauteous maniac, wildly sings:
47 They laid him in the ground so cold,
30 Ophelia: Hamlet.
48 Upon his breast the earth is thrown;
49 High is heaped the grassy mould,
50 Oh! he is dead and gone.
51 The winds of the winter blow o'er his cold breast,
52 But pleasant shall be his rest.
53 O sovereign Master! at whose sole command
54 We start with terror, or with pity weep;
55 Oh! where is now thy all-creating wand;
56 Buried ten thousand thousand fathoms deep!
57 The staff is broke, the powerful spell is fled,
58 And never earthly guest shall in thy circle tread.

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Title (in Source Edition): SHAKSPEARE.
Author: William Lisle Bowles
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Bowles, William Lisle, 1762-1850. The Poetical Works of William Lisle Bowles, Vol. I. With Memoir, Critical Dissertation, and Explanatory Notes by George Gilfillan. Edinburgh: James Nichol, 9 North Bank Street..., 1855, pp. 46-48.  (Page images digitized from a copy held at the University of California Libraries.)

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