Percy Bysshe Shelley

There is a snake in thy smile, my dear,
And bitter poison within thy tear.

There is a snake in thy smile, my dear,
And bitter poison within thy tear.

Is it not odd that the only generous person I ever knew, who had money to be generous with, should read more

Is it not odd that the only generous person I ever knew, who had money to be generous with, should be a stockbroker.

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.

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds

Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books read more

Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skilled to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!