Percy Bysshe Shelley

Songs consecrate to truth and liberty.

Songs consecrate to truth and liberty.

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

O, white innocence,
That thou shouldst wear the mask of guilt to hide
Thine awful and serenest read more

O, white innocence,
That thou shouldst wear the mask of guilt to hide
Thine awful and serenest countenance
From those who know thee not!

Hail to thee blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
read more

Hail to thee blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

Heaven's ebon vault,
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
read more

Heaven's ebon vault,
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which love has spread
To curtain her sleeping world.