The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Tom 1Macmillian, 1895 - 708 |
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Strona 2
... silent those sweet lips , Once breathing eloquence , That might have soothed a tiger's rage , Or thawed the cold heart of a conqueror . Her dewy eyes are closed , And on their lids , whose texture fine Scarce hides the dark blue orbs be ...
... silent those sweet lips , Once breathing eloquence , That might have soothed a tiger's rage , Or thawed the cold heart of a conqueror . Her dewy eyes are closed , And on their lids , whose texture fine Scarce hides the dark blue orbs be ...
Strona 9
... silent ranks , Encompass it around : the dweller there Cannot be free and happy ; hearest thou not The curses of the fatherless , the groans Of those who have no friend ? He passes on : The King , the wearer of a gilded chain That binds ...
... silent ranks , Encompass it around : the dweller there Cannot be free and happy ; hearest thou not The curses of the fatherless , the groans Of those who have no friend ? He passes on : The King , the wearer of a gilded chain That binds ...
Strona 11
... silent dungeon- depths With which the happy spirit contemplates Its well - spent pilgrimage on earth , Shall never pass away . Nature rejects the monarch , not the man ; The subject , not the citizen : for kings And subjects , mutual ...
... silent dungeon- depths With which the happy spirit contemplates Its well - spent pilgrimage on earth , Shall never pass away . Nature rejects the monarch , not the man ; The subject , not the citizen : for kings And subjects , mutual ...
Strona 33
... silent footstep . That for millenniums had withstood the tide Of human things , his storm - breath drove in sand Across that desert where their stones survived The name of him whose pride had heaped them there . Yon monarch , in his ...
... silent footstep . That for millenniums had withstood the tide Of human things , his storm - breath drove in sand Across that desert where their stones survived The name of him whose pride had heaped them there . Yon monarch , in his ...
Strona 35
... silent There the broad beam of day , which tear , feebly once A heap of crumbling ruins stood , and Lighted the cheek of lean captivity With a pale and sickly glare , then freely threw Year after year their stones upon the field ...
... silent There the broad beam of day , which tear , feebly once A heap of crumbling ruins stood , and Lighted the cheek of lean captivity With a pale and sickly glare , then freely threw Year after year their stones upon the field ...
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Adonais Ahasuerus art thou beams Beatrice beauty beneath blood bosom breast breath bright calm cave Cenci child Chorus clouds cold Cyclops Cyprian Dæmon dark dead death deep delight Demogorgon divine dream earth eternal eyes faint fair fear feel fire flame fled flowers FRAGMENT gentle golden grave green Harvard College hast hear heart heaven hope hour human King Laon light lips living look Mephistopheles mighty mind moon morning mortal mountains never night o'er ocean pain pale Panthea passion Percy Bysshe Shelley Peter Bell Pisa poem Queen Mab Revolt of Islam round ruin Semichorus shadow Shelley Shelley's silent Silenus slaves sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit stars strange stream sweet swift tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought thro throne truth tyrant Ulysses voice wandering waves weep Whilst wild wind wings
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 525 - 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...
Strona 425 - He is made one with Nature: there is heard His voice in all her music, from the moan Of thunder, to the song of night's sweet bird; He is a presence to be felt and known In darkness and in light, from herb and stone, Spreading itself where'er that Power may move Which has withdrawn his being to its own; Which wields the world with never wearied love, Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.
Strona 525 - If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear; If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee; A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share The impulse of thy strength, only less free Than thou, O uncontrollable!
Strona 541 - 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...
Strona 524 - Thou dirge Of the dying year, to which this closing night Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre, Vaulted with all thy congregated might Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh, hear!
Strona 542 - Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower : Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view : Like a rose embowered In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflowered, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves : Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awakened flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and clear,...
Strona 524 - O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing. Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red. Pestilence-stricken multitudes: 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...
Strona 541 - I bind the sun's throne with a burning zone, And the moon's with a girdle of pearl; The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl. From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape, Over a torrent sea, Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof, The mountains its columns be. The triumphal arch through which I march With hurricane, fire, and snow, When the powers of the air are chained to my chair, Is the million-coloured bow; The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove,...
Strona 524 - 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!
Strona 542 - What thou art we know not; What is most like thee? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not.