Maxioms by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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.
There is no real wealth but the labor of man.
There is no real wealth but the labor of man.
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light read more
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.
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
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.
