I Stood Upon a Heaven-Cleaving Turret, par Percy Shelley

Percy Shelley

I Stood Upon a Heaven-Cleaving Turret

I stood upon a heaven-cleaving turret

Which overlooked a wide Metropolis—

And in the temple of my heart my Spirit

Lay prostrate, and with parted lips did kiss

The dust of Desolations [altar] hearth—

And with a voice too faint to falter

It shook that trembling fane with its weak prayer

’Twas noon,—the sleeping skies were blue

The city...

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Percy Shelley