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Young Brilliant Poet That Left Us Far, Far Too Soon Second Poet In Dedication series
Note: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Percy_Bysshe_Shelley Percy Bysshe Shelley, Born 4 August 1792 Horsham, Sussex, England[1] Died , 8 July 1822 (aged 29) Gulf of La Spezia, Kingdom of Sardinia (now Italy) Occupation Poet, dramatist, essayist, novelist Alma mater University College, Oxford (no degree) Literary movement Romanticism Spouse Harriet Westbrook (m. 1811; died 1816) Mary Shelley (m. 1816) Signature Percy Bysshe Shelley (/b??/ BISH; 4 August 1792 – 8 July 1822) was one of the major English Romantic poets, who is regarded by some as among the finer lyric and philosophical poets in the English language, and one of the more influential. A radical in his poetry as well as in his political and social views, Shelley did not see fame during his lifetime, but recognition of his achievements in poetry grew steadily following his death. Shelley was a key member of a close circle of visionary poets and writers that included Lord Byron, Leigh Hunt, Thomas Love Peacock and his own second wife, Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein. Shelley is perhaps best known for classic poems such as Ozymandias, Ode to the West Wind, To a Skylark, Music, When Soft Voices Die, The Cloud and The Masque of Anarchy. His other major works include a groundbreaking verse drama The Cenci (1819) and long, visionary, philosophical poems such as Queen Mab (later reworked as The Daemon of the World), Alastor, The Revolt of Islam, Adonaïs, Prometheus Unbound (1820) —widely considered to be his masterpiece—Hellas: A Lyrical Drama (1821), and his final, unfinished work, The Triumph of Life (1822) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ First Dedication poem to Percy Bysshe Shelley Young Brilliant Poet That Left Us Far, Far Too Soon (Dedication To Percy Bysshe Shelley) Treated as rubbish he should walk away with such a blinded crowd why would he stay? His mind, his pen, both were very gifted truth, ink of his verses - souls uplifted. With positive results in verse desired, in love's beauty, his poetry was fired. Should benevolent kindness be punished or Heaven's bread be sent to one famished? His pen wrote fine lines, splattering its ink to selfish bidding, it refused to sink. His heart roared out, "let them wither away" their greedy commands I will not obey. Poet's soul seeking great and better things spreading love, peace, joy as its ardor sings Knowing Dark's appetite had ate lost-hearts its massive powers torn goodness apart. Each morn, he rose to ink out his sworn vow gift words, as only a poet knows how. With paper and thought, he scribbled true deep oft denying his wants or needed sleep. Sadness came as others shot their arrows those not knowing, God sees wounded sparrows. With love and mercy, gives his divine aid to those suffering from evil's sharp blade. Years piled up, brief decades ate their fill his tender heart refused their unjust bill. With courage found in a cause that is right black ink stained blank pages, morning, noon and night. His eyes were tired and too oft his hands cramped yet his vow was, not join their selfish camp. He saw death, soon as it broke through his shield he stood there, refusing to ever yield. Treated as rubbish he should walk away with such a blinded crowd why would he stay? His mind, his pen, both were very gifted truth, ink of his verses - souls uplifted. With positive results in verse desired, in love's beauty, his poetry was fired. Should benevolent kindness be punished or Heaven's bread be sent to one famished? Robert J. Lindley, 1-19-2019 Rhyme, ( Those That Write To Give To Others ) Dedicated to the life and poetry of the famous poet that died far too young, Percy Bysshe Shelley ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Second dedication poem- to Percy Bysshe Shelley Weeping Willows, Thy Tears Wake My Slumber Ye graceful angel, thy truer heart speaks with Hope's promise of resplendent relief in that bounty, deep empathy thus peaks to give mercy's gifts in divine belief. Rose-red flowers, thy garden in full bloom for none other has such soft graceful kiss there is love and warmth in thy treasure room *riaments* of gold found within thy sweet bliss. Thy forest colors shine, upon each leaf as whispering winds seeds recover thy hands gift back joy taken by sorrow's thief romance gems, Love's truth thus discovers. In that dance in romanticism's deep vault thy songs and inspiring words give much more Love, removing regrets of ones great faults jewels cast within heavenly downpour. Weeping willow's sorrows having been shed sky brightens and gives sight of rainbow hues as glad heart heals all, in soul love embeds its splendor of life that ever renews. Angel, thy pure beauty we now behold coupled with allure of thy graceful smile dare we in our wildest dreams be so bold as to request to hold, thy hand a while. Robert J. Lindley, 1-19-2019 dedicated to Percy Bysshe Shelley Note: *raiments* noun ARCHAIC•LITERARY plural noun: raiments clothing. "ladies clothed in raiment bedecked with jewels"
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