Adonais [ed. by H.B. Forman. Titlepage reprod. from the 1821 ed.].

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Shelley Society, 1821 - 29 pages
 

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Page 20 - Midst others of less note came one frail form, A phantom among men, companionless As the last cloud of an expiring storm, Whose thunder is its knell.
Page 6 - The cemetery is an open space among the ruins covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.
Page 16 - Ah woe is me! Winter is come and gone, But grief returns with the revolving year; The airs and streams renew their joyous tone; The ants, the bees, the swallows reappear; Fresh leaves and flowers deck the dead Seasons...
Page 28 - Here pause: these graves are all too young as yet To have outgrown the sorrow which consigned Its charge to each; and if the seal is set, Here, on one fountain of a mourning mind, Break it not thou! too surely shalt thou find Thine own well full, if thou returnest home, Of tears and gall.
Page 29 - The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me ; my spirit's bark is driven Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given. The massy earth and sphered skies are riven ! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar...
Page 26 - Yet faded from him; Sidney, as he fought And as he fell and as he lived and loved Sublimely mild, a Spirit without spot, Arose; and Lucan, by his dea'th approved : Oblivion as they rose shrank like a thing reproved.
Page 23 - Our Adonais has drunk poison — oh! What deaf and viperous murderer could crown Life's early cup with such a draught of woe?
Page 12 - Others more sublime, Struck by the envious wrath of man or God, Have sunk, extinct in their refulgent prime; And some yet live, treading the thorny road, Which leads, through toil and hate, to Fame's serene abode. VI. But now, thy youngest, dearest one, has perished, The nursling of thy widowhood, who grew, Like a pale flower- by some sad maiden cherished, And fed with true love tears instead of dew.
Page 29 - Of birth can quench not, that sustaining Love Which through the web of being blindly wove By man and beast and earth and air and sea...
Page 27 - Go thou to Rome, — at once the Paradise, The grave, the city, and the wilderness; And where its wrecks like shattered mountains rise, And flowering weeds, and fragrant copses dress The bones of Desolation's nakedness Pass, till the spirit of the spot shall lead Thy footsteps to a slope of green access Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead 440 A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread...

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