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James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902.

December 30

On His Marriage to Mary Godwin

By Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822)

December 30, 1816

UPON my heart thy accents sweet

Of peace and pity fell like dew

On flowers half dead; thy lips did meet

Mine tremblingly: thy dark eyes threw

Their soft persuasion on my brain,

Charming away the dream of pain.

We are not happy, sweet! our state

Is strange, and full of doubt and fear;

More need of words that ills abate;—

Reserve or censure come not near

Our sacred friendship, lest there be

No solace left for thee and me.

Gentle and good and mild thou art:

Nor can I live if thou appear

Aught but thyself, or turn thine heart

Away from me, or stoop to wear

The mask of scorn, although it be

To hide the love thou feel’st for me.