Percy Bysshe Shelley

I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

I
The awful shadow of some unseen Power Floats through unseen among us, — visiting This various world with as inconstant
As summer winds that creep from flower to flower,--Like moonbeams that behind some piny mountain shower, It visits w...

MY faint spirit was sitting in the light Of thy looks, my love; It panted for thee like the hind at noon For the brooks, my love
Thy barb, whose hoofs outspeed the tempest's flight, Bore thee far from me; My heart, for my weak feet were weary...

I
The everlasting universe of things Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves, Now dark—now glittering--now reflecting gloom-- Now lending splendour, where from secret springs The source of human thought its tribute brings Of waters-...

ES
ED TO
HE
LE

I
The sleepless Hours who watch me as I lie,
Curtained with star-inwoven tapestries,
From the broad moonlight of the sky,

Unfathomable Sea
whose waves are years,
Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep
Are brackish with the salt of human tears

I
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,

ST
IT:
O thou, who plumed with strong
Wouldst float above the earth, beware

Poet of Nature, thou hast wept to know That things depart which never may return:
Childhood and youth, friendship and love's first glow,
Have fled like sweet dreams, leaving thee to mourn
These common woes I feel

I
The sun is warm, the sky is clear,
The waves are dancing fast and bright,
Blue isles and snowy mountains wear The purple noon's transparent might,

I
Good-night
ah
no; the hour is

Lift not the painted veil which those who live Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there,
And it but mimic all we would believe With colours idly spread,—behind, lurk Fear And Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weave Their shadows, o'er t...

A
DY IN
WO
Translated from the Original Doric  'Choose Reform or Civil War,

We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly
— yet soon Night closes round, and they are lost forever:

I
I arise from dreams of
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,