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Percy Shelley

To William Shelley. Thy Little Footsteps on the Sands

Thy little footsteps on the sands
Of a remote and lonely shore;
The twinkling of thine infant hands,
Where now the worm will feed no more;
Thy mingled look of love and glee
When we returned to gaze on thee—

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Bruno G.
Autres oeuvres par Percy Shelley...
The Pine Forest of the Cascine Near Pisa

Dearest, best and brightest, Come away, To the woods and to the fields! Dearer than this fairest day Which, like thee to those in sorro…
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Fragment: A Gentle Story of Two Lovers Young

A gentle story of two lovers young… Who met in innocence and died in s… And of one selfish heart, whose ra… Like curses on them; are ye slow t… The lore of truth from such a tale…
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And like a Dying Lady, Lean and Pale

And like a dying lady, lean and pa… Who totters forth, wrapp’d in a ga… Out of her chamber, led by the ins… And feeble wanderings of her fadin… The moon arose up in the murky Ea…
Eyes: A Fragment

How eloquent are eyes! Not the rapt poet’s frenzied lay When the soul’s wildest feelings s… Can speak so well as they. How eloquent are eyes!
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A Summer Evening Churchyard, Lechlade, Gloucestershire

THE wind has swept from the wide… Each vapour that obscured the suns… And pallid Evening twines its bea… In duskier braids around the langu… Silence and Twilight, unbeloved o…
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Sonnet: From the Italian of Cavalcanti

Returning from its daily quest, my… Changed thoughts and vile in thee… It grieves me that thy mild and ge… Those ample virtues which it did i… Has lost. Once thou didst loathe…
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Stanza

If I walk in Autumn’s even While the dead leaves pass, If I look on Spring’€™s soft heav… Something is not there which was Winter’s wondrous frost and snow,
On Leaving London for Wales

Hail to thee, Cambria! for the un… Which from thy wilds even now meth… Chasing the clouds that roll in wr… And tightening the soul’s laxest n… True mountain Liberty alone may h…
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O That a Chariot of Cloud Were Mine!

O that a chariot of cloud were min… Of cloud which the wild tempest we… When the moon over the ocean’s lin… Is spreading the locks of her brig… O that a chariot of cloud were min…
On Robert Emmet’s Grave

No trump tells thy virtues’€”the g… With thy dust shall remain unpollu… Till thy foes, by the world and by… Shall pass like a mist from the li… VII.
The Irishman’s Song

The stars may dissolve, and the fo… May sink into ne’er ending chaos a… Our mansions must fall, and earth… But thy courage O Erin! may never… See! the wide wasting ruin extends…
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When a Lover Clasps His Fairest

When a lover clasps his fairest, Then be our dread sport the rarest… Their caresses were like the chaff In the tempest, and be our laugh His despair—her epitaph!
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O Thou Immortal Deity

O thou immortal deity Whose throne is in the depth of hu… I do adjure thy power and thee By all that man may be, by all tha… By all that he has been and yet mu…
To the Moon

Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on t… Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a differ… And ever changing, like a joyless…
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Here I Sit With my Paper’€¦

Here I sit with my paper, my pen… First of this thing, and that thin… and t’other thing think ; I Then my thoughts come so pell a… I mell all into my mind,
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