English Romantic Lyric Poet
Percy Bysshe Shelley
English Romantic Lyric Poet
Many faint with toil, that few may know the cares and woe of sloth.
No more alone through the world's wilderness, although I trod the paths of high intent, I journeyed now: no more companionless.
O! I burn with impatience for the moment of the dissolution of intolerance; it has injured me.
Ozymandias, I met a traveler 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 which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, the hand that mocked them and the heart that fed. And on the pedestal these words appear: 'my name is Ozymandias, king of kings: look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!' nothing beside remains. Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away.
Rarely, rarely, comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now many a day and night? Many a weary night and day 'tis since thou are fled away.
Songs consecrate to truth and liberty.
The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose.
The great secret of morals is love.
Let us bring the question to the test of experience and fact; and ask ourselves, considering our nature in its entire extent, what light we derive from a sustained and comprehensive view of its component parts, which may enable us to assert with certainty that we do or do not live after death.
Me ? who am as a nerve o'er which do creep the else unfelt oppressions of this earth, and was to thee the flame upon thy hearth, when all beside was cold: ? that thou on me shouldst rain these plagues of blistering agony!
No more let life divide what death can join together.
O, white innocence, that thou shouldst wear the mask of guilt to hide thine awful and serenest countenance from those who know thee not!
Peace is in the grave. The grave hides all things beautiful and good. I am a God and cannot find it there, nor would I seek it; for, though dread revenge, this is defeat, fierce king, not victory.
Religion pervades intensely the whole frame of society, and is according to the temper of the mind which it inhabits, a passion, a persuasion, an excuse, a refuge; never a check.
Spirit of Nature! all-sufficing Power! Necessity, thou mother of the world!
The cold chaste Moon, the Queen of Heaven's bright isles, who makes all beautiful on which she smiles! What wandering shrine of soft, yet icy flame, whichever is transform'd yet still the same, and warms, but not illumines.
The howl of self-interest is loud ... but the heart is black which throbs solely to its note.
Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, stains the white radiance of Eternity, until Death tramples it to fragments.
Men must reap the things they sow, force from force must ever flow, or worse; but 'tis a bitter woe that love or reason cannot change.
No one has yet been found resolute enough in dogmatizing to deny that Nature made man equal; that society has destroyed this equality is a truth not more incontrovertible.
O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
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.
Revenge and wrong bring forth their kind; the foul cubs like their parents are.
Spirit, Patience, Gentleness, all that can adorn and bless art thou ? let deeds, not words, express thine exceeding loveliness.
The conceptions which any nation or individual entertains of the God of its popular worship may be inferred from their own actions and opinions, which are the subjects of their approbation among their fellow-men.