Maxioms by Percy Bysshe Shelley
And the wand-like lily which lifted up,
As a Maenad, its moonlight-coloured cup,
Till the fiery star, read more
And the wand-like lily which lifted up,
As a Maenad, its moonlight-coloured cup,
Till the fiery star, which is its eye,
Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky.
The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
Over his living head like Heaven is bent,
An early but read more
The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
Over his living head like Heaven is bent,
An early but enduring monument,
Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song
In sorrow.
History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to read more
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.
. . . then black despair
The shadow of a starless night, was thrown
Over the world read more
. . . then black despair
The shadow of a starless night, was thrown
Over the world in which I moved alone.
