great
If not intelligible, without Greek
Contrived to talk about the gods of late,
Much as they might have been supposed to speak.
Poor fellow, his was an untoward fate!
'Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle,
Should let itself be snuffed out by an article.'

11. 7-9. _From her wilds Ierne sent The sweetest lyrist of her saddest
wrong, And love taught grief to fall like music from his tongue._ Ierne
(Ireland) sent Thomas Moore, the lyrist of her wrongs--an allusion to
the _Irish Melodies_, and some other poems. There is not, I believe, any
evidence to show that Moore took the slightest interest in Keats, his
doings or his fate: Shelley is responsible for Moore's love, grief, and
music, in this connexion. A letter from Keats has been published showing
that at one time he expected to meet Moore personally (see p. 45).
Whether he did so or not I cannot say for certain, but I apprehend not:
the published Diary of Moore, of about the same date, suggests the
negative.

+Stanza 31,+ 1. 1. _'Midst others of less note._ Shelley clearly means
'less note' than Byron and Moore--not less note than the 'one frail
form.'

1. 2. _Came one frail form,_ &c. This personage represents Shelley
himself. Shelley here describes himself under a profusion of
characteristics, briefly defined: it may be interesting to summarize
them, apart from the other details with which they are interspersed. He
is a frail form; a phantom among men; companionless; one who had gazed
Actaeon-like on Nature's naked loveliness, and who now fled with feeble
steps, hounded by his own thoughts; a pard-like spirit beautiful and
swift; a love masked in desolation; a power begirt with weakness,
scarcely capable of lifting the weight of the hour; a breaking billow,
which may even now be broken; the last of the company, neglected and
apart--a herd-abandoned deer struck by the hunter's dart; in Keats's
fate, he wept his own; his brow was branded and ensanguined. Most of
these attributes can be summed up under one heading--that of extreme
sensitiveness and susceptibility, which meet with no response or
sustainment, but rather with misjudgment, repulse, and outrage. Some
readers may think that Shelley insists upon this aspect of his character
to a degree rather excessive, and dangerously near the confines of
feminine sensibility, rather than virile fortitude. Apart from this
predominant type of character, Shelley describes his spirit as
'beautiful and swi