The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Volum 1

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Reeves and Turner, 1876

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Pàgina 372 - Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon Of human thought or form, where art thou gone ? Why dost thou pass away and leave our state, This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate...
Pàgina 358 - Many a green isle needs must be In the deep wide sea of Misery, Or the mariner, worn and wan, Never thus could voyage on — Day and night, and night and day, Drifting on his dreary way, With the solid darkness black Closing round his vessel's track; Whilst above the sunless sky, Big with clouds, hangs heavily...
Pàgina xxvii - On a poet's lips I slept, Dreaming like a love-adept In the sound his breathing kept. Nor seeks nor finds he mortal blisses, But feeds on the aerial kisses Of shapes that haunt thought's wildernesses. He will watch from dawn to gloom The lake-reflected sun illume The yellow bees in the ivy-bloom, Nor heed nor see what things they be : But from these create he can Forms more real than living man, Nurslings of immortality.
Pàgina 376 - 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 shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read...
Pàgina 103 - I then controlled My tears, my heart grew calm, and I was meek and bold. And from that hour did I with earnest thought Heap knowledge from forbidden mines of lore, Yet nothing that my tyrants knew or taught I cared to learn, but from that secret store Wrought linked armour for my soul, before It might walk forth to war among mankind...
Pàgina 182 - But on her forehead, and within her eye Lay beauty, which makes hearts that feed thereon Sick with excess of sweetness ; on the throne She leaned ; — the...
Pàgina 23 - By solemn vision and bright silver dream His infancy was nurtured. Every sight And sound from the vast earth and ambient air Sent to his heart its choicest impulses. The fountains of divine philosophy Fled not his thirsting lips : and all of great Or good or lovely which the sacred past In truth or fable consecrates he felt And knew.
Pàgina 75 - The wilderness has a mysterious tongue Which teaches awful doubt, — or faith so mild, So solemn, so serene, that Man may be, But for such faith, with Nature reconciled. Thou hast a voice, great Mountain, to repeal Large codes of fraud and woe; not understood By all, but which the wise and great and good Interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel.
Pàgina 37 - A Spirit seemed To stand beside him — clothed in no bright robes Of shadowy silver or enshrining light, Borrowed from aught the visible world affords Of grace, or majesty, or mystery; — But undulating woods, and silent well, And leaping rivulet, and evening gloom Now deepening the dark shades, for speech assuming, Held commune with him, as if he and it Were all that was, — only . . . when his regard Was raised by intense pensiveness, . . . two eyes, Two starry eyes, hung in the gloom of thought,...
Pàgina 369 - mid lawny hills Which the wild sea-murmur fills, And soft sunshine, and the sound Of old forests echoing round, And the light and smell divine Of all flowers that breathe and shine.

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