Maxioms by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books read more
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skilled to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep! He hath awaken from the dream of life!
Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep! He hath awaken from the dream of life!
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.
. . . 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.
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.