And Like A Dying Lady, Lean And Pale Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

And Like A Dying Lady, Lean And Pale

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And like a dying lady, lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky East,
A white and shapeless mass--Credits and CopyrightTogether with the editors, the Department ofEnglish (University of Toronto), and the University of Toronto Press,the following individuals share copyright for the work that wentinto this edition:Screen Design (Electronic Edition): Sian Meikle (University ofToronto Library)Scanning: Sharine Leung (Centre for Computing in the Humanities)

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Rue H 05 November 2004

What on Earth happened to the second half of this poem?

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