0:01 The Amatory Poems of Abel Shufflebottom ILLGY IV The Poet Relates How He Stole a Lock of Delia's Hair And Her Anger 2:53 End of poem This recording is in the public domain 3:09 Are They Not All Ministering Spirits? 4:11 End of poem This recording is in the public domain 4:19 At nine and six 6:19 End of poem This recording is in the public domain 6:22 At the Window by Ella Wheeler Wilcox 10:21 End of poem This recording is in the public domain 10:23 The Autumn Wind by Wu Ti 11:14 End of poem This recording is in the public domain 11:16 The Bee by Anonymous 12:05 End of poem This recording is in the public domain 12:07 The Book of the World by William Drummond 13:31 End of poem This recording is in the public domain 13:35 The Call by Reginald Wright Coffman 14:45 End of poem This recording is in the public domain 14:49 The Captive Squirrel 16:29 End of poem This recording is in the public domain 16:30 End of Charge of the Light Brigade By Alfred Tennyson 18:24 This recording is in the public domain 18:27 High rises the eastern cleave 19:15 End of poem This recording is in the public domain 19:18 Columbus 20:24 This recording is in the public domain 20:27 DESIRE 21:45 This recording is in the public domain 21:48 EASTER 24:00 This recording is in the public domain 24:02 I, Dolan 25:14 This recording is in the public domain 25:16 End of the Comedy 26:09 This recording is in the public domain 26:12 Fate 27:42 This recording is in the public domain 27:46 From Kansas 28:52 This recording is in the public domain 28:54 The Glittering Drudge 31:10 This recording is in the public domain 31:12 Growing Blind by Reiner Maria Rilke 32:34 This recording is in the public domain 32:36 The Happiest Day by Edgar Allan Poe 33:53 This recording is in the public domain 33:55 Hodge the Cat 37:23 This recording is in the public domain 37:26 If by Rajat Kipling 39:51 This recording is in the public domain 39:59 I sent out invitations to summon guests 40:35 This recording is in the public domain 40:40 Loveliest of Trees by A. E. Hausmann 41:23 Ode to Evening by William Collins 44:40 The Old Woman by Joseph Campbell 45:25 Passion Week by G. F. Bradby 47:20 Pursuit and Possession by Thomas Bailey Aldrich 48:35 Paul Revere's Ride by Henry Longfellow 53:34 THE SANDMAN by Margaret Thompson Janvier 56:29 The Silent Multitude by Felicia Hemmons 59:03 The Song of Night by Felicia Hemmams 1:02:56 Sonnet 35 by Michael Drayton 1:03:57 So will go no more a roving by George Gordon Byron 1:04:49 Spring Dawn by G. F. Bradby 1:07:10 Think not all is over by Harriet Beecher Stowe 1:08:17 To Helen by Edgar Allan Poe 1:09:13 The Undiscovered Country by Thomas Bailey Aldrich 1:10:28 Wind of the April Evening by G. F. Bradby 1:12:58 Windy Nights by Robert Louis Stevenson 1:14:09 A Winner's Tale by D. H. Lawrence 1:15:35 The Witch of Atlas by Percy Bysshe Shelley 1:16:21 Now at the Bodleian Here, as throughout Cited as be Carefully collated by Mr. C. D. Lowcock Who printed the results in his examination of the Shelley manuscripts, etc. Oxford, Clarendon Press 1903 4. A later, yet intermediate, transcript by Mrs. Shelley The variations of which are noted by Mr. H. Buxton Foreman The original text is modified in many places by variants from the manuscripts But the readings of edition 1824 are, in every instance, given in the footnotes To Mary On her objecting to the following poem Upon the score of its containing no human interest How, my dear Mary, are you critic-bidden For vipers kill, though dead, by some review That you condemn these verses I have written Because they tell no story, false or true What, though no mice are caught by a young kitten May it not leap and play, as grown cats do Till its claws come Prithee, for this one time Contently with a visionary rhyme What hand would crush the silken-winged fly The youngest of inconstant April's minions Because it cannot climb the purest sky Where these swans sing amid the sun's dominions Not thine, thou know'st tis its doom to die When day shall hide within her twilight pinions The lucent eyes and the eternal smile Serene as thine, which lent it life a while 1:17:05 To thy fair feet a winged vision came Whose date should have been longer than a day And o'er thy head did beat its wings for fame And in thy sight its fading plumes display The watery bow burned in the evening flame But the shower fell, the swift sun went his way And that is dead, oh, let me not believe That any thing of mine is fit to live Wordsworth informs us he was nineteen years Considering and retouching Peter Bell Watering his laurels with the killing tears Of slow, dull care So that their roots to hell might pierce And their wide branches blot the spheres of heaven With dewy leaves and flowers This well may be for heaven and earth conspired to foil The over-busy gardener's blundering toil My witch indeed is not so sweet a creature As Ruth or Lucy, whom his graceful praise Clothes for our grandsons But she matches Peter Though he took nineteen years And she three days in dressing 1:18:26 Light the vest, the flowing meter she wears He, proud as dandy with his days Has hung upon his wiry limbs a dress Like King Lear's looped and windowed raggedness If you strut, Peter, you will see a fellow Scorched by hell's hyper-equatorial climate Into a kind of sulphurous yellow A lean mark hardly fit to fling a rhyme at In shape a scaramouche, in hue a fellow If you unveil my witch, no priest nor primate Can shrive you off that sin, if sin there be In love, when it becomes idolatry The Witch of Atlas Before those cruel twins, whom at one birth Incessuous change bore to her father time Error and truth had hunted from the earth All those bright natures which adorned its prime And left us nothing to believe in Worth the pains of putting into learned rhyme 1:19:50 A lady witch there lived on Atlas's mountain Within a cavern by a secret fountain Her mother was one of the Atlantides The all-beholding sun had ne'er beholden In his wide voyage o'er continents and seas So fair a creature as she lay enfolden In the warm shadow of her loveliness He kissed her with his beams and made all golden The chamber of grey rock in which she lay She, in that dream of joy, dissolved away Tis said, she first was changed into a vapour And then into a cloud, such clouds as split Like splendour-winged moths about a taper Round the Red West when the sun dies in it And then into a meteor, such as caper On hilltops when the moon is in a fit Then into one of those mysterious stars Which hide themselves between the earth and Mars Ten times the mother of the months had been Her bow beside the folding star And bidden with that bright sign the billows to indent The sea-deserted sand like children chidden At her command they ever came and went Since in that cave a dewy splendour hidden Took shape and motion with the living form Of this embodied power, the cave grew warm The lovely lady garmented in light From her own beauty, deep her eyes as are Two openings of unfathomable night Seen through a temple's clubbing roof Her hair, dark, the dim brain Whirls dizzy with delight Picturing her form, her soft smile shown afar And her low voice was heard like love and true All living things to words this wonder knew 1:21:47 And first the spotted camel leopard came And then the wise and fearless elephant Then the sly serpent in the golden flame Of his own volumes intervolved, all gone And sanguine beasts her gentle looks made tame They drank before her at her sacred fount And every beast of beating heart grew bold Such gentleness and power even to behold The brinded lioness led forth her young That she might teach them how they should forgo Their inborn thirst of death, the part unstrung His sinews at her feet and sought to know What looks whose motions spoke without a tongue How he might be as gentle as the doe The magic circle of her voice and eyes All savage nature's dip in paradise An old solanus shaking a green stick Of lilies and the wood gods in a crew Came lithe as in the olive copse's thick Cicadae are drunk with the noonday dew Andriope and Thaunus followed quick Teasing the god to sing them something new Till in this cave they found the lady lone Sitting upon a seat of emerald stone And universal pant his said was there And though none saw him through the adamant Of the deep mountains through the trackless air And through those living spirits like a want He passed out of his everlasting lair Where the quick heart of the great world doth pant And felt that wondrous lady all alone And she fell him upon her emerald throne 1:24:02 And every nymph of stream and spreading tree And every shepherdess of ocean's flocks Who drives her white waves over the green sea An ocean with brine on his gray locks And quaint Priapus with his company All came much wondering how the enwomened rocks Could have brought forth so beautiful a birth Her love subdued their wonder and their mirth The herdsmen and the mountain maidens came And they ruled kings of pastoral Garamond Their spirits shook within them as a flame Stirred by the air under a cavern gaunt Pygmies and polyphemes by many a name Centaurs and satyrs and such shapes as haunt Wet clefts and lumps neither alive nor dead Dog-headed, bosom-eyed, and bird-footed For she was beautiful, her beauty made The bright world dim and everything beside Seemed like the fleeting image of a shade No thought of living spirit could abide Which to her looks had ever been betrayed On any object in the world so wide On any hope within the circling skies But on her form and in her inmost eyes Which, when the lady knew, she took her spindle And twined three threads of fleecy mist And three long lines of light Such as the dawn may kindle The clouds and waves and mountains with And she, as many starbeams, ere their lamps could dwindle Inly belated moons wound skillfully And with these threads a subtle veil she wove A shadow for the splendor of her love 1:26:20 The deep recesses of her odorous dwelling Restored with magic treasures, sounds of air Which had the power all spirits of compelling Folded in cells of crystal silence there Such as we hear in youth and think the feeling Will never die Yet ere we are aware The feeling and the sound are fled and gone And the regret they leave remains alone And there lay vision swift and sweet and quaint Each in its thin sheath like a chrysalis Some eager to burst forth, some weak and faint With these soft birth and love, intense as bliss It was its work to bear to many a saint Whose heart adores the shrine which holiest is Even loves, and others white, green, gray, and black And of all shapes, and each was at her beck And odors in a kind of aviary Of ever-blooming Eden trees she kept Clipped in a floating net, a lovesick fairy Had woven from dewbeams while the moon yet slept As bats at the wired window of a dairy They beat their vans, and each was in a dept When loosed and missioned, making wings of winds To stir sweet thoughts or sad and destined
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