Percy Bysshe Shelley
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Percy Bysshe Shelleywas one of the major English Romantic poets, and is regarded by some as among the finest lyric, as well as epic, poets in the English language. A radical in his poetry as well as in his political and social views, Shelley did not see fame during his lifetime, but recognition for his 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...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth4 August 1792
grief returns revolving winter
Winter is come and gone,But grief returns with the revolving year.
sweet spring winter
[L]ike thee to those in sorrow, Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow To the rough year just awake In its cradle on the brake. The brightest hour of unborn Spring, Through the winter wandering, Found, it seems, the halcyon Morn To hoar February born.
weed dream winter
The world's great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn; Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam, Like wrecks of a dissolving dream.
grief winter years
Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone. But grief returns with the revolving year.
sweet winter thinking
The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.
spring winter wind
Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened earth The trumpet of a prophecy! O, wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
spring winter air
O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
awakened doth dream hath life lost phantoms sleep stormy
Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep -- he hath awakened from the dream of life -- 'Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep with phantoms an unprofitable strife.
saddest songs sweetest
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thoughts.
endure yesterday
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability.
kings repose rise worship
Kings are like stars, - they rise and set, they have - The worship of the world, but no repose
feats johnny savage
Who killed Johnny Keats? "I," said the Quarterly, "So savage and tartarly, 'Twas one of my feats
drink eat endless flesh host ladylike luxuries tea though
Though we eat little flesh and drink no wine, Yet let's be merry; we'll have tea and toast; Custards for supper, and an endless host Of syllabubs and jellies and mince-pies, And other such ladylike luxuries
night black shadow
Then black despair, The shadow of a starless night, was thrown Over the world in which I moved alone.