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Percy Bysshe Shelley quotes - page 11
I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: - Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The day becomes more solemn and serene When noon is past; there is a harmony In autumn, and a lustre in its sky, Which through the summer is not heard or seen.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
He hath awakened from the dream of life- 'Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep With phantoms an unprofitable strife, And in mad trance, strike with our spirit's knife Invulnerable nothings.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Thus let thy power, which like the truth Of nature on my passive youth Descended, to my onward life supply Its calm, to one who worships thee, And every form containing thee, Whom, SPIRIT fair, thy spells did bind To fear himself, and love all human kind.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
I met Murder on the way - He had a mask like Castlereagh.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: What if my leaves are falling like its own!
Percy Bysshe Shelley
She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
And singing still dost soar and soaring ever singest.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The awful shadow of some unseen Power Floats though unseen among us; visiting This various world with as inconstant wing As summer winds that creep from flower to flower.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
A traveller from the cradle to the grave Through the dim night of this immortal day.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own. The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
What is Freedom?
Percy Bysshe Shelley
History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
We rest. - A dream has power to poison sleep; We rise. - One wandering thought pollutes the day; We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep; Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:It is the same! - For, be it joy or sorrow, The path of its departure still is free: Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The awful shadow of some unseen Power Floats though unseen among us; visiting This various world with as inconstant wing As summer winds that creep from flower to flower; Like moonbeams that behind some piny mountain shower, It visits with inconstant glance Each human heart and countenance; Like hues and harmonies of evening, Like clouds in starlight widely spread, Like memory of music fled, Like aught that for its grace may be Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Man, who wert once a despot and a slave, A dupe and a deceiver! a decay, A traveller from the cradle to the grave Through the dim night of this immortal day.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The wise want love; and those who love want wisdom.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
I love tranquil solitude, And such society As is quiet, wise, and good: - Between thee and me What diff'rence?
Percy Bysshe Shelley
It is not a merit to tolerate, but rather a crime to be intolerant.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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