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Percy Shelley

Percy Shelley

One Sung of thee who Left the Tale Untold

One sung of thee who left the tale untold,
        Like the false dawns which perish in the bursting;
Like empty cups of wrought and daedal gold,
        Which mock the lips with air, when they are thirsting.

#EnglishWriters #Epigram

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Preferido o celebrado por...
Bruno G.
Otras obras de Percy Shelley...
Buona Notte

‘Buona notte, buona notte!’—Come… La notte sara buona senza te? Non dirmi buona notte,—che tu sai, La notte sa star buona da per se. II.
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Mutability ["The flower that smiles to-day"]

The flower that smiles to—day To—morrow dies; All that we wish to stay Tempts and then flies. What is this world’s delight?
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Time Long Past

Like the ghost of a dear friend de… Is Time long past. A tone which is now forever fled, A hope which is now forever past, A love so sweet it could not last,
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Lines to a Critic

Honey from silkworms who can gathe… Or silk from the yellow bee? The grass may grow in winter weath… As soon as hate in me. II.
To Night

Swiftly walk o’er the western wave… Spirit of Night! Out of the misty eastern cave, Where, all the long and lone dayli… Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear…
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Life Rounded With Sleep

The babe is at peace within the wo… The corpse is at rest within the t… We begin in what we end.
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To William Shelley

The billows on the beach are leapi… The bark is weak and frail, The sea looks black, and the cloud… Darkly strew the gale. Come with me, thou delightful chil…
Song. Hope

And said I that all hope was fled… That sorrow and despair were mine, That each enthusiast wish was dead… Had sank beneath pale Misery’s sh… Seest thou the sunbeam’s yellow gl…
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On Keats, Who Desired That on His Tomb Should Be Inscribed

'Here lieth One whose name was wr… But, ere the breath that could era… Death, in remorse for that fell sl… Death, the immortalizing winter, f… Athwart the stream,—and time’s pri…
Saint Edmond’s Eve

Oh! did you observe the Black Can… And did you observe his frown? He goeth to say the midnight mass, In holy St. Edmond’s town. He goeth to sing the burial chaunt…
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To Jane: The Keen Stars Were Twinkling

The keen stars were twinkling, And the fair moon was rising among… Dear Jane. The guitar was tinkling, But the notes were not sweet till…
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,
On the Medusa of Leonardo Da Vinci in the Florentine Gallery

It lieth, gazing on the midnight s… Upon the cloudy mountain-peak supi… Below, far lands are seen tremblin… Its horror and its beauty are divi… Upon its lips and eyelids seems to…
Music, When Soft Voices Die

Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken… Rose leaves, when the rose is dead…
Lines Written During the Castlereagh Administration

Corpses are cold in the tomb; Stones on the pavement are dumb; Abortions are dead in the womb, And their mothers look pale—like t… Of Albion, free no more.
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