Maxioms by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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.
For there are deeds
Which have no form, sufferings which have no tongue.
For there are deeds
Which have no form, sufferings which have no tongue.
Familiar acts are beautiful through love.
Familiar acts are beautiful through love.
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
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Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.
