The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley: Given from His Own Editions and Other Authentic Sources : Collated with Many Manuscripts and with All Editions of Authority : Together with His Prefaces and Notes, His Poetical Translations and Fragments and an Appendix of Juvenilia, Svazek 2

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Reeves & Turner, 1892

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Strana 232 - I can give not what men call love, But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above And the Heavens reject not, — The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow?
Strana 483 - The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to his circuits.
Strana 21 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Strana 190 - The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle. Why not I with thine...
Strana 263 - Away, away, from men and towns, To the wild wood and the downs ; To the silent wilderness Where the soul need not repress Its music, lest it should not find An echo in another's mind, While the touch of Nature's art Harmonizes heart to heart.
Strana 181 - Oh, lift me from the grass ! 1 die, I faint, I fail ! Let thy love in kisses rain On my lips and eyelids pale. My cheek is cold and white, alas ! My heart beats loud and fast : Oh ! press it close to thine again, Where it will break at last ? Very few perhaps are familiar with these lines, yet no less a poet than Shelley is their author.
Strana 220 - 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...
Strana 180 - 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; I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me — who knows how?
Strana 21 - The breath of the moist earth is light Around its unexpanded buds; Like many a voice of one delight, The winds, the birds, the ocean floods, The city's voice itself, is soft like Solitude's. I see the deep's untrampled floor With green and purple seaweeds strown; I see the waves upon the shore, Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown...
Strana 262 - WHEN the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead — When the cloud is scattered The rainbow's glory is shed. When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remembered not ; When the lips have spoken, Loved accents are soon forgot. As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart's echoes render No song when the spirit is mute : No song but sad dirges, Like the wind through a ruined cell, Or the mournful surges That ring the dead seaman's knell.

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