Percy Bysshe Shelley

Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Stains the white radiance of eternity.

Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Stains the white radiance of eternity.

Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.

Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.

Kings are like stars--they rise and set, they have
The worship of the world, but no repose.

Kings are like stars--they rise and set, they have
The worship of the world, but no repose.

Like a glowworm golden, in a dell of dew,
Scattering unbeholden its aerial blue
Among the flowers read more

Like a glowworm golden, in a dell of dew,
Scattering unbeholden its aerial blue
Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view.

January grey is here,
Like a sexton by her grave;
February bears the bier,
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January grey is here,
Like a sexton by her grave;
February bears the bier,
March with grief doth howl and rave,
And April weeps--but, O ye hours!
Follow with May's fairest flowers.