The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Band 1Little, Brown, 1855 |
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aërial art thou ASIA azure beams beasts beautiful beneath blood bosom breath bright burning burst calm Castle Goring Caucasus caves child clouds coursers Cythna Dæmon dark dead death deep DEMOGORGON despair divine doth dream earth evil eyes fair fear feel fire flame fled floating flow flowers gathered gaze heard heart Heaven hope hopes and fears human Ianthe Italy Jupiter Laon light lips living lone looks mankind mighty mind moon morning mortal mountains night o'er ocean pain pale PANTHEA passion pause poem poet PROMETHEUS PROMETHEUS UNBOUND Queen Mab Revolt of Islam round ruin sate scorn SEMICHORUS shade shadow shapes Shelley Shelley's shone silence slavery slaves sleep smiles soul sound spirit stars stood strange stream sweet swift tears thee Thetis thine things thou art thought throne truth tyrant voice wandering waves wild wind wings youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 443 - Love, from its awful throne of patient power In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour Of dread endurance, from the slippery, steep, And narrow verge of crag-like agony, springs And folds over the world its healing wings.
Seite 83 - 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...
Seite 82 - I do remember well the hour which burst My spirit's sleep: a fresh May-dawn it was, When I walked forth upon the glittering grass, And wept, I knew not why; until there rose From the near schoolroom, voices, that, alas! Were but one echo from a world of woes — The harsh and grating strife of tyrants and of foes.
Seite 436 - The lightning is his slave; heaven's utmost deep Gives up her stars, and like a flock of sheep They pass before his eye, are numbered, and roll on ! The tempest is his steed, he strides the air; And the abyss shouts from her depth laid bare, Heaven, hast thou secrets ? Man unveils me; I have none.
Seite 335 - It doth repent me; words are quick and vain; Grief for awhile is blind, and so was mine. I wish no living thing to suffer pain.
Seite 83 - Which poured their warm drops on the sunny ground. So, without shame, I spake : ' I will be wise, And just and free, and mild, if in me lies Such power ; for I grow weary to behold The selfish and the strong still tyrannize Without reproach or check.
Seite 387 - The rocks are cloven, and through the purple night I see cars drawn by rainbow-winged steeds Which trample the dim winds ; in each there stands A wild-eyed charioteer urging their flight. Some look behind, as fiends pursued them there, And yet I see no shapes but the keen stars ; Others, with burning eyes, lean forth, and drink With eager lips the wind of their own speed, As if the thing they loved fled on before, And now, even now, they clasped it. Their bright locks Stream like a comet's flashing...
Seite 323 - ... the bright chains Eat with their burning cold into my bones. Heaven's winged hound, polluting from thy lips His beak in poison not his own, tears up My heart; and shapeless sights come wandering by, The ghastly people of the realm of dream, Mocking me : and the Earthquake-fiends are charged To wrench the rivets from my quivering wounds When the rocks split and close again behind: While from their loud abysses howling throng The genii of the storm, urging the rage Of whirlwind, and afflict me...
Seite 392 - Make the cold air fire ; then screen them In those looks, where whoso gazes Faints, entangled in their mazes. Child of Light ! thy limbs are burning Through the vest which seems to hide them; As the radiant lines of morning Through the clouds ere they divide them ; And this atmosphere divinest Shrouds thee wheresoe'er thou shinest.
Seite 55 - The grey trunks, and, as gamesome infants' eyes, With gentle meanings, and most innocent wiles, Fold their beams round the hearts of those that love, These twine their tendrils with the wedded boughs Uniting their close union; the woven leaves Make net-work of the dark blue light of day, And the night's noontide clearness, mutable As shapes in the weird clouds. Soft mossy lawns Beneath these canopies extend their swells, Fragrant with perfumed herbs, and eyed with blooms 450 Minute yet beautiful.