1.
'Do you not hear the Aziola cry?
Methinks she must be nigh,'
Said Mary, as we sate
In dusk, ere stars were lit, or candles brought;
And I, who thought _5
This Aziola was some tedious woman,
Asked, 'Who is Aziola?' How elate
I felt to know that it was nothing human,
No mockery of myself to fear or hate:
And Mary saw my soul, _10
And laughed, and said, 'Disquiet yourself not;
'Tis nothing but a little downy owl.'
2.
Sad Aziola! many an eventide
Thy music I had heard
By wood and stream, meadow and mountain-side, _15
And fields and marshes wide,--
Such as nor voice, nor lute, nor wind, nor bird,
The soul ever stirred;
Unlike and far sweeter than them all.
Sad Aziola! from that moment I _20
Loved thee and thy sad cry.
P.B. Shelley
'Do you not hear the Aziola cry?
Methinks she must be nigh,'
Said Mary, as we sate
In dusk, ere stars were lit, or candles brought;
And I, who thought _5
This Aziola was some tedious woman,
Asked, 'Who is Aziola?' How elate
I felt to know that it was nothing human,
No mockery of myself to fear or hate:
And Mary saw my soul, _10
And laughed, and said, 'Disquiet yourself not;
'Tis nothing but a little downy owl.'
2.
Sad Aziola! many an eventide
Thy music I had heard
By wood and stream, meadow and mountain-side, _15
And fields and marshes wide,--
Such as nor voice, nor lute, nor wind, nor bird,
The soul ever stirred;
Unlike and far sweeter than them all.
Sad Aziola! from that moment I _20
Loved thee and thy sad cry.
P.B. Shelley
