Yes! all is past--swift time has fled away, <br />Yet its swell pauses on my sickening mind; <br />How long will horror nerve this frame of clay? <br />I’m dead, and lingers yet my soul behind. <br />Oh! powerful Fate, revoke thy deadly spell, <br />And yet that may not ever, ever be, <br />Heaven will not smile upon the work of Hell; <br />Ah! no, for Heaven cannot smile on me; <br />Fate, envious Fate, has sealed my wayward destiny. <br /> <br />I sought the cold brink of the midnight surge, <br />I sighed beneath its wave to hide my woes, <br />The rising tempest sung a funeral dirge, <br />And on the blast a frightful yell arose. <br />Wild flew the meteors o'er the maddened main, <br />Wilder did grief athwart my bosom glare; <br />Stilled was the unearthly howling, and a strain, <br />Swelled mid the tumult of the battling air, <br />'Twas like a spirit's song, but yet more soft and fair. <br /> <br />I met a maniac—like he was to me, <br />I said--'Poor victim, wherefore dost thou roam? <br />And canst thou not contend with agony, <br />That thus at midnight thou dost quit thine home?' <br />'Ah there she sleeps: cold is her bloodless form, <br />And I will go to slumber in her grave; <br />And then our ghosts, whilst raves the maddened storm, <br />Will sweep at midnight o’er the wildered wave; <br />Wilt thou our lowly beds with tears of pity lave?' <br /> <br />'Ah! no, I cannot shed the pitying tear, <br />This breast is cold, this heart can feel no more-- <br />But I can rest me on thy chilling bier, <br />Can shriek in horror to the tempest's roar.'<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fragment-yes-all-is-past/
