AT Shelley's birth, The Lark, dawn-spirit, with an anthem loud Rose from the dusky earth To tell it to the Cloud, That, like a flower night-folded in the gloom, Burst into morning bloom. At Shelley's death, The Sea, that deemed him an immortal, saw A god's extinguished breath, And landward, as in awe, Upbore him to the altar whence he came, And the rekindling flame. |