The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley
T. Y. Crowell Company, 1865 - 705 pages
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
arms beams Beatrice beautiful beneath beside blood breath bright calm child clouds cold dare dark dead death deep dream earth eyes fair faith fear feel fell fire flame flow flowers gathered gentle gold grave green grew hair hand hate hear heard heart heaven hell hope hour human Italy knew leaves light lips live lone looks Lucretia mighty mind moon morning mother mountains move nature never night o'er ocean once pain pale pass past peace rest round ruin seemed shade shadow shapes silent slaves sleep smile soon soul sound speak spirit stand stars stood strange stream sweet swift tears thee thine things thou thou art thought throne truth turned voice wandering waves wide wild wind wings youth
Page 487 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is; What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened earth The...
Page 506 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Page 599 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright...
Page 606 - Its passions will rock thee As the storms rock the ravens on high : Bright reason will mock thee, Like the sun from a wintry sky. From thy nest every rafter Will rot, and thine eagle home Leave thee naked to laughter, When leaves fall and cold winds come.
Page 503 - I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky ; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores ; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain, The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams, Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
Page 502 - Over the lakes and the plains, Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream, The spirit he loves remains ; And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile, Whilst he is dissolving in rains. The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes, And his burning plumes outspread, Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, When the morning star shines dead.
Page 485 - O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With living hues and odours plain and hill: Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh, hear!
Page 503 - And the nursling of the Sky ; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores ; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain, when with never a stain, The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, — And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise, and unbuild it again.
Page 580 - SWIFTLY walk over the western wave, Spirit of Night ! Out of the misty eastern cave, Where all the long and lone daylight Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear, Which make thee terrible and dear, — Swift be thy flight ! Wrap thy form in a mantle gray, Star-inwrought ! Blind with thine hair the eyes of day, Kiss her until she be wearied out, Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land, Touching all with thine opiate wand. Come, long-sought...
Page 578 - 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 shall thou find Thine own well full, if thou returnest home, Of tears and gall. From the world's bitter wind Seek shelter in the shadow of the tomb. What Adonais is, why fear we to become...