Poems selected from Percy Bysshe Shelley, with preface by R. Garnett |
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Page 4
... dream , And twilight phantasms , and deep noonday thought , Has shone within me , that serenely now And moveless , as a long - forgotten lyre Suspended in the solitary dome Of some mysterious and deserted fane , I wait thy 2 ALASTOR ; OR ,
... dream , And twilight phantasms , and deep noonday thought , Has shone within me , that serenely now And moveless , as a long - forgotten lyre Suspended in the solitary dome Of some mysterious and deserted fane , I wait thy 2 ALASTOR ; OR ,
Page 6
... the regular breath Of innocent dreams arose : then , when red morn Made paler the pale moon , to her cold home Wildered , and wan , and panting , she returned . pour The Poet wandering on , through Arabie And Persia 6 ALASTOR ; OR ,
... the regular breath Of innocent dreams arose : then , when red morn Made paler the pale moon , to her cold home Wildered , and wan , and panting , she returned . pour The Poet wandering on , through Arabie And Persia 6 ALASTOR ; OR ,
Page 7
... dream of hopes that never yet Had flushed his cheek . He dreamed a veiled maid Sate near him , talking in low solemn tones . Her voice was like the voice of his own soul Heard in the calm of thought ; its music long , Like woven sounds ...
... dream of hopes that never yet Had flushed his cheek . He dreamed a veiled maid Sate near him , talking in low solemn tones . Her voice was like the voice of his own soul Heard in the calm of thought ; its music long , Like woven sounds ...
Page 9
... dream that fleeting shade ; He overleaps the bounds . Alas ! alas ! Were limbs , and breath , and being intertwined Thus treacherously ? Lost , lost , for ever lost , In the wide pathless desert of dim sleep , That beautiful shape ...
... dream that fleeting shade ; He overleaps the bounds . Alas ! alas ! Were limbs , and breath , and being intertwined Thus treacherously ? Lost , lost , for ever lost , In the wide pathless desert of dim sleep , That beautiful shape ...
Page 10
... dream , And shook him from his rest , and led him forth Into the darkness . — As an eagle grasped In folds of the green serpent , feels her breast Burn with the poison , and precipitates Through night and day , tempest , and calm , and ...
... dream , And shook him from his rest , and led him forth Into the darkness . — As an eagle grasped In folds of the green serpent , feels her breast Burn with the poison , and precipitates Through night and day , tempest , and calm , and ...
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Common terms and phrases
Adonais ANTISTROPHE art thou azure beams beautiful beneath billows blue bowers brain breast breath bright brow burning calm cave cavern chidden clouds cold Dæmon dark dead death deep delight didst divine dream earth eternal eyes faint fear flame flame transformed fled fleeting river flowers folded palm gentle gleam glow golden golden air grave green grew grey grief heart heaven hope hopes and fears hues human isle kiss know thyself lamps leaves light lips living mighty mist moon mortal mountains mourns for Adonais murmuring never night o'er ocean odour pale round shadow sighs silent sleep smiles soft song sorrow soul sound spirit splendour starless night stars stream sweet swift swords to ploughshares tears thee thine things thou art thought throne tremble Urania veil voice wake wandering waves weep wert Whilst wild wind wind-flowers wings woods
Popular passages
Page 175 - 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.
Page 89 - Nothing / beside / remains. // Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, / The lone and level sands / stretch far away. JOHN GIELGUD'S PAUSES: I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: // Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. // Near them, on the sand, / Half sunk, / a...
Page 318 - Peace, peace ! he is not dead, he doth not sleep — He hath awakened from the dream of life — 'Tis we, who, lost in stormy visions, keep With phantoms an unprofitable strife, And in mad trance strike with our spirit's knife Invulnerable nothings.
Page 320 - His part, while the one Spirit's plastic stress Sweeps through the dull dense world, compelling there, All new successions to the forms they wear; Torturing th' unwilling dross that checks its flight To its own likeness, as each mass may bear; And bursting in its beauty and its might From trees and beasts and men into the Heaven's light.
Page 340 - 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...
Page 323 - I sighed for thee ; When light rode high, and the dew was gone, And noon lay heavy on flower and tree, And the weary Day turned to his rest Lingering like an unloved guest, I sighed for thee. Thy brother Death came, and cried Wouldst thou me...
Page 363 - 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 265 - Philosophy 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.
Page 362 - 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.
Page 148 - 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 Hath led me — who knows how? To thy chamber window, Sweet! The wandering airs they faint On the dark, the silent stream — The Champak odours fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream; The nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart; — As I must on thine, Oh, beloved as thou art!