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Percy Bysshe Shelley Short Poems

Famous Short Percy Bysshe Shelley Poems. Short poetry by famous poet Percy Bysshe Shelley. A collection of the all-time best Percy Bysshe Shelley short poems


by Percy Bysshe Shelley
ART thou pale for weariness 
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth  
Wandering companionless 
Among the stars that have a different birth ¡ª 
And ever-changing like a joyless eye 5 
That finds no object worth its constancy? 



by Percy Bysshe Shelley
ON a Poet's lips I slept  
Dreaming like a love-adept 
In the sound his breathing kept; 
Nor seeks nor finds he mortal blisses  
But feeds on the aerial kisses 5 
Of shapes that haunt Thought's wildernesses.
He will watch from dawn to gloom The lake-reflected sun illume The blue bees in the ivy-bloom Nor heed nor see what things they be¡ª 10 But from these create he can Forms more real than living man Nurslings of Immortality!

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Good-night? ah! no; the hour is ill
Which severs those it should unite;
Let us remain together still,
Then it will be good night.
How can I call the lone night good, Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight? Be it not said, thought, understood -- Then it will be -- good night.
To hearts which near each other move From evening close to morning light, The night is good; because, my love, They never say good-night.

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
O WORLD! O Life! O Time! 
On whose last steps I climb  
Trembling at that where I had stood before; 
When will return the glory of your prime? 
No more¡ªoh never more! 5 

Out of the day and night 
A joy has taken flight: 
Fresh spring and summer and winter hoar 
Move my faint heart with grief but with delight 
No more¡ªoh never more! 10 

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
A WIDOW bird sate mourning for her Love 
Upon a wintry bough; 
The frozen wind crept on above  
The freezing stream below.
There was no leaf upon the forest bare.
5 No flower upon the ground And little motion in the air Except the mill-wheel's sound.

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
MUSIC when soft voices die  
Vibrates in the memory; 
Odours when sweet violets sicken  
Live within the sense they quicken; 

Rose leaves when the rose is dead 5 
Are heap'd for the belov¨¨d's bed: 
And so thy thoughts when thou art gone  
Love itself shall slumber on.

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
I
AND, like a dying lady lean and pale,

Who totters forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil, 
Out of her chamber, led by the insane 
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain, 
The mood arose up in the murky east, 5 
A white and shapeless mass.
II Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth, 10 And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy?



by Percy Bysshe Shelley
I FEAR thy kisses gentle maiden; 
Thou needest not fear mine; 
My spirit is too deeply laden 
Ever to burthen thine.
I fear thy mien thy tones thy motion; 5 Thou needest not fear mine; Innocent is the heart's devotion With which I worship thine.

by Dorothy Parker
 The Lives and Times of John Keats,
Percy Bysshe Shelley, and
George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron

Byron and Shelley and Keats
Were a trio of Lyrical treats.
The forehead of Shelley was cluttered with curls, And Keats never was a descendant of earls, And Byron walked out with a number of girls, But it didn't impair the poetical feats Of Byron and Shelley, Of Byron and Shelley, Of Byron and Shelley and Keats.

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 And like a dying lady, lean and pale, 
Who totters forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky East,
A white and shapeless mass

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Extract from Poetical Essay by Percy Bysshe Shelley


Millions to fight compell'd, to fight or die
In mangled heaps on War's red altar lie .
.
.
When the legal murders swell the lists of pride; When glory's views the titled idiot guide Lost Shelley poem found after 200 years http://www.
timesonline.
co.
uk/article/0,,2-2267433,00.
html

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 The odor from the flower is gone
Which like thy kisses breathed on me;
The color from the flower is flown
Which glowed of thee and only thee!

A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form,
It lies on my abandoned breast;
And mocks the heart, which yet is warm,
With cold and silent rest.
I weep--my tears revive it not; I sigh--it breathes no more on me: Its mute and uncomplaining lot Is such as mine should be.

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory -- 
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Art thou pale for weariness 
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing Heaven, and gazing on the earth,
 Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,--
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

Time  Create an image from this poem
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years,
Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe
Are brackish with the salt of human tears!
Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow
Claspest the limits of mortality,
And sick of prey, yet howling on for more,
Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable shore;
Treacherous in calm, and terrible in storm,
Who shall put forth on thee,
Unfathomable Sea?

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 One sung of thee who left the tale untold, 
Like the false dawns which perish in the bursting;
Like empty cups of wrought and daedal gold,
Which mock the lips with air, when they are thirsting.

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Heigho! the lark and the owl! 
One flies the morning, and one lulls the night:
Only the nightingale, poor fond soul,
Sings like the fool through darkness and light.
"A widow bird sate mourning for her love Upon a wintry bough; The frozen wind crept on above, The freezing stream below.
"There was no leaf upon the forest bare, No flower upon the ground, And little motion in the air Except the mill-wheel's sound.
"

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 And like a dying lady, lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapped in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky east,
A white and shapeless mass.

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Sacred Goddess, Mother Earth,
Thou from whose immortal bosom
Gods and men and beasts have birth,
Leaf and blade, and bud and blossom,
Breathe thine influence most divine
On thine own child, Proserpine.
If with mists of evening dew Thou dost nourish these young flowers Till they grow in scent and hue Fairest children of the Hours, Breathe thine influence most divine On thine own child, Proserpine.

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 The fitful alternations of the rain,
When the chill wind, languid as with pain
Of its own heavy moisture, here and there
Drives through the gray and beamless atmosphere

To  Create an image from this poem
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory - 
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.


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