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Percy Shelley

Percy Shelley

A Dirge

Rough wind, that moanest loud
Grief too sad for song;
Wild wind, when sullen cloud
Knells all the night long;
Sad storm whose tears are vain,
Bare woods, whose branches strain,
Deep caves and dreary main,—
Wail, for the world’s wrong!

#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury

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Ye wild-eyed Muses, sing the Twin… Whom the fair-ankled Leda, mixed… With mighty Saturn’s Heaven-obscu… On Taygetus, that lofty mountain… Brought forth in joy: mild Pollux…
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She left me at the silent time When the moon had ceas’d to climb The azure path of Heaven’s steep, And like an albatross asleep, Balanc’d on her wings of light,
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WHEN the lamp is shatter’d, The light in the dust lies dead;    When the cloud is scatter’d, The rainbow’s glory is shed;    When the lute is broken,
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Fragment: Such Hope, as Is the Sick Despair of Good

Such hope, as is the sick despair… Such fear, as is the certainty of… Such doubt, as is pale Expectatio… Turned while she tastes to poison,… Is powerless, and the spirit...
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49 Go thou to Rome,—at once the Para… The grave, the city, and the wilde… And where its wrecks like shattere… And flowering weeds, and fragrant…
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What men gain fairly—that they sho… And children may inherit idleness, From him who earns it’€”This is u… Private injustice may be general g… But he who gains by base and armed…
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To

ONE word is too often profaned    For me to profane it; One feeling too falsely disdain’d    For thee to disdain it; One hope is too like despair
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A: Not far from hence. From yonder p… Crowned with a ring of oaks, you m… A dark and barren field, through w… Sluggish and black, a deep but nar…
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