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Mutability

Published with "Alastor", 1816.
We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly!—yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:
Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings 
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
We rest.—A dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise.—One wandering thought pollutes the day; 
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:
It is the same!—For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man's yesterday may[1] ne'er be like his morrow; 
Nought may endure but Mutability.[2]
[1]

may 1816; can Lodore, chapter 49, 1835 (Mrs. Shelley).

[2]

Nought may endure but 1816; Nor aught endure save Lodore, chapter 49, 1835 (Mrs. Shelley).


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