Front Page Titles (by Subject) THE QUESTION. - Posthumous Poems
THE QUESTION. - Percy Bysshe Shelley, Posthumous Poems 
Posthumous Poems (London: John and Henry L. Hunt, 1824).
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- I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way,
- Bare winter suddenly was changed to spring,
- And gentle odours led my steps astray,
- Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring
- Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay
- Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling
- Its green arms round the bosom of the stream,
- But kissed it and then fled, as thou mightest in dream.
- There grew pied wind-flowers and violets,
- Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth,
- The constellated flower that never sets;
- Faint oxlips; tender bluebells, at whose birth
- The sod scarce heaved; and that tall flower that wets
- Its mother’s face with heaven-collected tears,
- When the low wind, its playmate’s voice, it hears.
- And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine,
- Green cow-bind and the moonlight-coloured May,
- And cherry blossoms, and white cups, whose wine
- Was the bright dew yet drained not by the day;
- And wild roses, and ivy serpentine,
- With its dark buds and leaves, wandering astray;
- And flowers azure, black and streaked with gold,
- Fairer than any wakened eyes behold.
- And nearer to the river’s trembling edge
- There grew broad flag flowers, purple prankt with white,
- And starry river buds among the sedge,
- And floating water-lilies, broad and bright,
- Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge
- With moonlight beams of their own watery light;
- And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep green
- As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen.
- Methought that of these visionary flowers
- I made a nosegay, bound in such a way
- That the same hues, which in their natural bowers
- Were mingled or opposed, the like array
- Kept these imprisoned children of the Hours
- Within my hand,—and then, elate and gay,
- I hastened to the spot whence I had come,
- That I might there present it!—Oh! to whom?