Percy Bysshe Shelley

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.

. . . 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.

Though we eat little flesh and drink no wine,
Yet let's be merry; we'll have tea and toast;
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Though we eat little flesh and drink no wine,
Yet let's be merry; we'll have tea and toast;
Custards for supper, and an endless host
Of syllabubs and jellies and mince-pies,
And other such ladylike luxuries.

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

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

We look before and after,
And pine for what is not,
Our sincerest laughter
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We look before and after,
And pine for what is not,
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught:
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.