A hushed twilight gives way to heartache in Shelley’s “Song.” The speaker opens with a delicate image: soft breezes and the anemone flower bowing its pale head at nightfall. This drooping bloom becomes a figure for anyone whose gentle spirit has been torn by the world’s sharpness, sinking neglected and forlorn. The speaker, too, has been wounded—the world holds no charm for him because its cruelty has broken the heart that remained faithful to his beloved. As he walks with that beloved beneath towering trees and a moonlit sky, the very landscape seems to whisper that they must soon part. A tender farewell follows, laced with the possibility they may never meet again. The meadows and woods, silent witnesses to their love, will remember how soft and sweet their time together was. The mood is one of aching resignation, hushed and intimate, as if all nature grieves with him.
Song — Summary
Come ! sweet is the hour, Soft Zephyrs breathe gently around, The anemone's night-boding flower, Has sunk its pale head on the ground.
'Tis thus the world's keenness hath torn, Some mild heart that expands to its blast, 'Tis thus that the wretched forlorn, Sinks poor and neglected at last.--
The world with its keenness and woe, Has no charms or attraction for me, Its unkindness with grief has laid low, The heart which is faithful to thee. The high trees that wave past the moon, As I walk in their umbrage with you, All declare I must part with you soon, All bid you a tender adieu!--
Then ! dearest farewell, You and I love, may ne'er meet again; These woods and these meadows can tell How soft and how sweet was the strain.--