Copies exist in the Harvard manuscript book, amongst the Boscombe by Percy Bysshe Shelley: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
A dreamer strolls through an unexpected, enchanting spring landscape, collecting a bunch of lovely flowers — only to find out at the last moment that there's no one to share them with.
The poem
manuscripts, and amongst Ollier manuscripts.] 1. I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way, Bare Winter suddenly was changed to Spring, And gentle odours led my steps astray, Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay _5 Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, But kissed it and then fled, as thou mightest in dream. 2. There grew pied wind-flowers and violets, Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth, _10 The constellated flower that never sets; Faint oxslips; tender bluebells, at whose birth The sod scarce heaved; and that tall flower that wets— Like a child, half in tenderness and mirth— Its mother’s face with Heaven’s collected tears, _15 When the low wind, its playmate’s voice, it hears. 3. And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine, Green cowbind and the moonlight-coloured may, And cherry-blossoms, and white cups, whose wine Was the bright dew, yet drained not by the day; _20 And wild roses, and ivy serpentine, With its dark buds and leaves, wandering astray; And flowers azure, black, and streaked with gold, Fairer than any wakened eyes behold. 4. And nearer to the river’s trembling edge _25 There grew broad flag-flowers, purple pranked with white. And starry river buds among the sedge, And floating water-lilies, broad and bright, Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge With moonlight beams of their own watery light; _30 And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep green As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen. 5. Methought that of these visionary flowers I made a nosegay, bound in such a way That the same hues, which in their natural bowers _35 Were mingled or opposed, the like array Kept these imprisoned children of the Hours Within my hand,—and then, elate and gay, I hastened to the spot whence I had come, That I might there present it!—Oh! to whom? _40 NOTES: _14 Like...mirth Harvard manuscript, Boscombe manuscript; wanting in Ollier manuscript, 1822, 1824, 1839. _15 Heaven’s collected Harvard manuscript, Ollier manuscript, 1822; Heaven-collected 1824, 1839. *** THE TWO SPIRITS: AN ALLEGORY. [Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Posthumous Poems”, 1824.] FIRST SPIRIT: O thou, who plumed with strong desire Wouldst float above the earth, beware! A Shadow tracks thy flight of fire— Night is coming! Bright are the regions of the air, _5 And among the winds and beams It were delight to wander there— Night is coming! SECOND SPIRIT: The deathless stars are bright above; If I would cross the shade of night, _10 Within my heart is the lamp of love, And that is day! And the moon will smile with gentle light On my golden plumes where’er they move; The meteors will linger round my flight, _15 And make night day. FIRST SPIRIT: But if the whirlwinds of darkness waken Hail, and lightning, and stormy rain; See, the bounds of the air are shaken— Night is coming! _20 The red swift clouds of the hurricane Yon declining sun have overtaken, The clash of the hail sweeps over the plain— Night is coming! SECOND SPIRIT: I see the light, and I hear the sound; _25 I’ll sail on the flood of the tempest dark With the calm within and the light around Which makes night day: And thou, when the gloom is deep and stark, Look from thy dull earth, slumber-bound, _30 My moon-like flight thou then mayst mark On high, far away. ... Some say there is a precipice Where one vast pine is frozen to ruin O’er piles of snow and chasms of ice _35 Mid Alpine mountains; And that the languid storm pursuing That winged shape, for ever flies Round those hoar branches, aye renewing Its aery fountains. _40 Some say when nights are dry and clear, And the death-dews sleep on the morass, Sweet whispers are heard by the traveller, Which make night day: And a silver shape like his early love doth pass _45 Upborne by her wild and glittering hair, And when he awakes on the fragrant grass, He finds night day. NOTES: _2 Wouldst 1839; Would 1824. _31 moon-like 1824; moonlight 1839. _44 make]makes 1824, 1839. ***
A dreamer strolls through an unexpected, enchanting spring landscape, collecting a bunch of lovely flowers — only to find out at the last moment that there's no one to share them with. It's a poem capturing the pain of beauty when there's no one to share it with, and how love can feel most genuine just as you realize it's absent.
Line-by-line
I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way, / Bare Winter suddenly was changed to Spring,
There grew pied wind-flowers and violets, / Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth,
And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine, / Green cowbind and the moonlight-coloured may,
And nearer to the river's trembling edge / There grew broad flag-flowers, purple pranked with white.
Methought that of these visionary flowers / I made a nosegay, bound in such a way
Tone & mood
The tone flows in a continuous arc from wonder to devastation. For four stanzas, it feels lush and almost breathless, much like a dream when everything is going well — sensory, generous, and unhurried. Then the fifth stanza shifts: the speaker grows more purposeful, even excited. Finally, the last two words bring everything crashing down. The exclamation mark before "to whom?" captures that precise moment of reaching out and finding emptiness. This tone earns its grief by first making you experience the beauty.
Symbols & metaphors
- The nosegay (bouquet) — The gathered flowers embody love itself—thoughtfully put together, arranged with care, and offered as a gift. The absence of a recipient turns this into a symbol of love with no destination: genuine in sentiment, yet unattainable in reality.
- Winter changing to Spring — The sudden shift in seasons represents how desire can quickly change a person's inner world. It also indicates that we're in a state of dream-logic, where our emotions can lead to real physical effects.
- The river — The stream winding through the landscape evokes the passage of time and the ebb and flow of emotions. The copse "hardly dared" to welcome it—a moment of hesitation that reflects the speaker's own unfulfilled longing at the poem's conclusion.
- The flowers — Each flower represents a real botanical detail and also symbolizes a beauty that exists only in dreams. Shelley refers to them as "visionary flowers" and "children of the Hours" — they are tied to time and imagination, rather than the waking world.
- The dream itself — The dream frame isn't merely a literary device. It indicates that the love or connection the speaker desires can't be found in everyday life — it can only be touched in sleep, and even then, it fades the moment he tries to grasp it.
Historical context
Shelley wrote this poem around 1821, just a year before he tragically drowned in the Gulf of Spezia. By then, he had been living in Italy for several years, essentially in self-imposed exile from England. His personal life was heavy with grief: the loss of his children, a growing distance in his marriage to Mary Shelley, and a series of passionate but unfulfilled connections with other women. The poem was published posthumously in 1824. Its title, given by editors, is drawn from the manuscript notes that reference the Harvard and Boscombe collections. Shelley chose the ottava rima stanza form—eight lines rhyming ABABABCC—which was popular among Romantic poets, thanks in part to Byron's masterful use of it in *Don Juan*, but he employs it here to convey something far more subtle and introspective than mere satire.
FAQ
On the surface, the poem describes a dream where the speaker strolls through a lovely spring landscape and gathers a bouquet of flowers. However, the true focus lies in the final two words: "to whom?" The entire poem sets the stage for the realization that the love or person the speaker intended to share this beauty with is either absent or does not exist. It captures the essence of longing without a recipient.
That abruptness is exactly the point. Shelley crafts four stanzas of beautiful, leisurely description, then shifts into the fifth stanza, which bursts into excitement — the speaker is hurrying back, eager to give the bouquet to someone. The question "Oh! to whom?" lands like a door slamming shut in an empty room. The poem leaves it unanswered because there isn't one. The emotion was genuine; the recipient wasn't.
Shelley doesn’t specify, and that lack of clarity is intentional. Some scholars think it might refer to Jane Williams, the woman Shelley was infatuated with during his last year, or perhaps an idealized figure who never really existed. The poem succeeds precisely because it leaves the "whom" open — it transforms into a meditation on the nature of longing itself, rather than focusing on any particular individual.
The Hours in Greek mythology were goddesses who represented the seasons and the flow of time. Referring to the flowers as "children of the Hours" suggests they are tied to time — they bloom and wither with the changing seasons. When the speaker gathers them into a bouquet, they have "imprisoned" the flowers, disconnecting them from their natural cycle. This detail carries a sense of melancholy: in the effort to capture beauty, it ultimately becomes confined.
The poem employs ottava rima—stanzas of eight lines that rhyme ABABABCC. The interlocking AB rhymes give a feeling of weaving or building up, which fits the collection of flowers beautifully. The final CC couplet in each stanza carries a bit more impact, allowing Shelley to present his most vivid images: "Fairer than any wakened eyes behold," "As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen," and ultimately the haunting "Oh! to whom?"
Arcturus shines as one of the brightest stars in the northern sky, always visible without fully dipping below the horizon at northern latitudes — it's a constant presence if you take a moment to look. By referring to daisies as "the constellated flower that never sets," Shelley suggests they are just as steady and bright as stars, only at our feet. This comparison transforms the everyday meadow into something that feels as expansive and enduring as the night sky.
Almost certainly. By 1821, Shelley was settled in Italy, far from England, with a marriage that had become strained and a tendency to form deep attachments that never fully resolved. The emotional heart of the poem — beauty created with love, yet with no one to appreciate it — reflects his situation quite directly. However, it’s not just a confessional poem; Shelley turns personal emotions into something that resonates universally.
It's a personification of the bank of trees next to the stream: the branches lean toward the water but hold back from fully embracing it, only kissing it before pulling away. Shelley likens this to a dream where you reach out to someone but never quite touch them. This serves as a subtle foreshadowing of the poem's ending, where the speaker reaches out and discovers that no one is there.