Shelley & His Poetry

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G. G. Harrap & Company, Limited, 1911 - 144 pages
 

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Page 111 - I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under. And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Page 113 - I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky ; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores ; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air...
Page 96 - Man, oh, not men! a chain of linked thought, Of love and might to be divided not, Compelling the elements with adamantine stress ; As the sun rules, even with a tyrant's gaze, The unquiet republic of the maze Of planets, struggling fierce towards heaven's free wilderness. Man, one harmonious soul of many a soul, Whose nature is its own divine control...
Page 106 - So sweet, the sense faints picturing them ! Thou For whose path the Atlantic's level powers Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear The sapless foliage of the ocean, know Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear, And tremble and despoil themselves: oh, hear!
Page 19 - I will be wise, And just, and free, and mild, if in me lies Such power ; for I grow weary to behold The selfish and the strong still tyrannize Without reproach or check.
Page 86 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, ii.
Page 139 - O World ! O life ! O time ! On whose last steps I climb, Trembling at that where I had stood before, — When will return the glory of your prime ? No more — oh never more ! Out of the day and night A joy has taken flight ; Fresh Spring, and Summer, and Winter hoar, Move my faint heart with grief, — but with delight No more — oh never more!
Page 18 - Thoughts of great deeds were mine, dear Friend, when first The clouds which wrap this world from youth did pass. I do remember well the hour which burst My spirit's sleep : a fresh May-dawn it was, When I walked forth upon the glittering grass, And wept, I knew not why ; until there rose From the near schoolroom, voices, that, alas 1 Were but one echo from a world of woes — The harsh and grating strife of tyrants and of foes.
Page 88 - Oh, lift me from the grass! I die, I faint, I fail! Let thy love in kisses rain On my lips and eyelids pale. My cheek is cold and white, alas! My heart beats loud and fast; Oh, press it close to thine again, Where it will break at last!
Page 29 - You will see Coleridge — he who sits obscure In the exceeding lustre and the pure Intense irradiation of a mind, Which, with its own internal lightning blind, Flags wearily through darkness and despair — A cloud-encircled meteor of the air, A hooded eagle among blinking owls.

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