Maxioms by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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.
How many a rustic Milton has passed by,
Stifling the speechless longings of his heart,
In unremitting read more
How many a rustic Milton has passed by,
Stifling the speechless longings of his heart,
In unremitting drudgery and care!
How many a vulgar Cato has compelled
His energies, no longer tameless then,
To mould a pin, or fabricate a nail!
Far clouds of feathery gold,
Shaded with deepest purple, gleam
Like islands on a dark blue sea.
Far clouds of feathery gold,
Shaded with deepest purple, gleam
Like islands on a dark blue sea.
'Twas his ambition, generous and great
A life to life's great end to consecrate.
'Twas his ambition, generous and great
A life to life's great end to consecrate.
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.
