Shelley and His Writings, Svazek 1

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Strana 262 - How beautiful this night ! the balmiest sigh, Which vernal zephyrs breathe in evening's ear, Were discord to the speaking quietude That wraps this moveless scene. Heaven's ebon vault, Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy which love had spread To curtain her sleeping world.
Strana 139 - There was a Being whom my spirit oft Met on its visioned wanderings, far aloft, In the clear golden prime of my youth's dawn, Upon the fairy isles of sunny lawn, Amid the enchanted mountains, and the caves Of divine sleep, and on the air-like waves Of wonder-level dream, whose tremulous floor Paved her light steps ; — on an imagined shore, Under the gray beak of some promontory She met me, robed in such exceeding glory, That I beheld her not.
Strana 252 - How wonderful is Death, Death, and his brother Sleep ! One, pale as yonder waning moon With lips of lurid blue ; The other, rosy as the morn When throned on ocean's wave It blushes o'er the world : Yet both so passing wonderful...
Strana 305 - Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings Give various response to each varying blast, To whose frail frame no second motion brings One mood or modulation like the last. We rest. A dream has power to poison sleep; We rise. One wandering thought pollutes the day; We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or wee'p ; Embrace fond woe or cast our cares away...
Strana 278 - Pause not ! The time is past ! Every voice cries, Away ! Tempt not with one last tear thy friend's ungentle mood: Thy lover's eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay: Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.
Strana 140 - Her voice came to me through the whispering woods, And from the fountains, and the odours deep Of flowers, which, like lips murmuring in their sleep Of the sweet kisses which had lulled them there, Breathed but of her...
Strana 260 - Or is it only a sweet slumber Stealing o'er sensation, Which the breath of roseate morning Chaseth into darkness ? Will lanthe wake again, And give that faithful bosom joy Whose sleepless spirit waits to catch Light, life and rapture, from her smile...
Strana 262 - The golden harvests spring ; the unfailing sun Sheds light and life ; the fruits, the flowers, the trees, Arise in due succession ; all things speak Peace, harmony, and love. The Universe, In nature's silent eloquence, declares That all fulfil the works of love and joy, — All but the outcast, Man. He fabricates The sword which stabs his peace.; he cherisheth The snakes that gnaw his heart ; he raiseth up The tyrant whose delight is in his woe, Whose sport is in his agony.
Strana 316 - Thou hast a home, Beautiful bird! thou voyagest to thine home, Where thy sweet mate will twine her downy neck With thine, and welcome thy return with eyes Bright in the lustre of their own fond joy.
Strana 128 - I was determined not to answer any questions respecting the publication on the table. He immediately repeated his demand ; I persisted in my refusal ; and he said furiously, ' Then you are expelled ; and I desire you will quit the college early to-morrow morning at the latest.' One of the fellows took up two papers, and handed one of them to me ; here it is.

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