To Mary Shelley

My dearest Mary, wherefore hast thou gone, And left me in this dreary world alone! Thy form is here indeed —a lovely one — But thou art fled, gone down the dreary road, That leads to Sorrow's most obscure abode; Thou sittest on the hearth of pale despair, where

For thine own sake I cannot follow thee.

Love Moment. This type recaptures the instant one person falls in (or out of) love with another, as in this lyric composed by Leigh Hunt, a friend of Shelley:

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