different parts of this heart planet
good night is interpreted in so many
ways. in my country between husband
and wife it means; there's unfinished business
but time to go to sleep it's like sleep on it.
it's great poem it does enhance my imagination.
A brief explanation of “Seems ghost writing Christopher, would be an option, if his fine works to be, drowned in a lake in the rough winds of fate”, as requested by a PH friend.
Both Shelley and his friend Lord George Gordon Byron often discussed ghost stories. A conversation the two poets had about galvanism (electricity) , inspired Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley to write her most famous novel ‘Frankenstein’, ‘The Modern Prometheus’ (1818) based upon her nightmare. Percy Shelley wrote the introduction for ‘Frankenstein’, and in 2008 he was credited as co-author. The title Mary Shelley claimed came to her in a dream vision.
The complex ghost writing Christopher reference first alludes to the pseudo-confessional style of Christopher Wren which influenced Shelley. Wren was a founder of the Royal Society (president 1680–82): Sir Isaac Newton and Blaise Pascal regarded highly his scientific work. To Shelley and Byron, Wren the mathematician-physicist and his physico-mathematical experimental learning concept intrigued as evidenced in the novel ‘Frankenstein’.
Shelley the atheist was an authoritative figure, writing with a strong disapproving voice. His unconventional life and uncompromising idealism, in an age of even more religious intolerance than the present, meant he was denigrated during his life and in death; some of his works were published but often suppressed upon publication. It is estimated Shelley had approximately 50 readers by the time of his death and evidence exists which suggests he may have been murdered for political reasons.
Shelley drowned after his schooner was rammed by a larger vessel and rapidly sink. The alleged attack upon Shelley during the night at his Regency house, he rented at Tremadog, near Porthmadog, north-west Wales by a possible intelligence agent is mentioned by Richard Holmes in ‘Shelley: The Pursuit’. Trelawny in his 'Recollections of the Last Days of Shelley and Byron', relates a supposed deathbed confession by an Italian fisherman who claimed to have rammed Shelley's schooner.
After Percy Shelley’s death, Mary Shelley determined to write his biography in the 'most popular form possible' 'to make him beloved to all posterity.' Edward Moxon Mary’s publisher, and deference to public propriety of the time, forced Mary to omit certain writings such as the atheistic passages from ‘Queen Mab’ in the first edition. Therefore charges of omissions which provoked stinging criticism from members of Percy Shelley's former circle; and reviewers who accused Mary of indiscriminate inclusions are overly harsh. We are indebted to Mary because she established her late husband’s reputation and ensured the survival of his previously unpublished work.
Ah, sweet mystery of love! the poet sighs as he consigns himself to a night without his love close by! If we stay together in love's embrace, he argues, then indeed it will be a good night. Do not bid farewell with that commonplace 'good night, sleep well! ' If I do not remonstrate and argue my case for staying close this night. then it shall be a kind of farewell! Those like us, my love, who cling to one another from the onset of night to early morning's light, we never do bid farewell because we are as one!
Bravo! Mr. Shelley does it again!
From looking at love from a grand perspective that fills your life, to small moments captured in something as subtle as the night, Shelley's command of emotion through the English language is superlative.
'Good-night? ah! no; the hour is ill
Which severs those it should unite; '
Yes a beautiful play on words, the good-night separation is forsaken, for an entire night, 'To hearts which near each other move
From evening close to morning light, '
is indeed a night of pleasure not forsaken. Nice moves Shelley. Seems ghost writing Christopher, would be an option, if his fine works to be, drowned in a lake in the rough winds of fate.