FROM THE ORIGINAL DRAFT OF THE POEM TO WILLIAM SHELLEY
I
The world is now our dwelling-place;
Where'er the earth one fading trace
Of what was great and free does keep,
That is our home! [OMITTED]
Mild thoughts of man's ungentle race
Shall our contented exile reap;
For who that in some happy place
His own free thoughts can freely chase
By woods and waves can clothe his face
In cynic smiles? Child! we shall weep.
II
[OMITTED] This lament,
The memory of thy grievous wrong
Will fade [OMITTED]
But genius is omnipotent
To hallow [OMITTED]