Maxioms by Percy Bysshe Shelley
And the wand-like lily which lifted up,
As a Maenad, its moonlight-coloured cup,
Till the fiery star, read more
And the wand-like lily which lifted up,
As a Maenad, its moonlight-coloured cup,
Till the fiery star, which is its eye,
Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky.
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.
Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.
Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.
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.
There is no real wealth but the labor of man.
There is no real wealth but the labor of man.
