Percy Bysshe Shelley

Poet, 1792-1822

Cited as Shelley. — 23 quotations

I cannot bear The murmur of this lake to hear.

Those lonely realms bright garden isles begem.

Thou shoreless flood which in thy ebb and flow Claspest the limits of morality!

As in the soft and sweet eclipse, When soul meets soul on lovers' lips.

Like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing.

Entwined in duskier wreaths her braided locks.

A man may live a free life as to wine or women.

A lovely lady garmented in light From her own beauty.

As some dark priest hales the reluctant victim.

The meeting boughs and implicated leaves.

Wrapt in sweet sounds, as in bright veils.

The womb of inessential Naught.

It interpenetrates my granite mass.

Arethuss arose . . . From rock and from jag.

There is a cavern where my spirit Was panted forth in anguish.

The pavilion of heaven is bare.

Hide in the dust thy purple pride.

But grief returns with the revolving year.

White, fleecy clouds . . . Shepherded by the slow, unwilling wind.

[He] was the sire of an immortal strain.

Sublime on the towers of my skyey bowers, Lightning, my pilot, sits.

The awful ruins of the days of old . . . Or jasper tomb, or mutilated sphinx.

We submitted to a galling yet unappealable necessity.