The Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley in Verse and Prose, how First Brought Together with Many Pieces Not Before Published, Volume 2

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Reeves and Turner, 1880

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Page 291 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth...
Page 294 - 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 299 - Thou dost float and run ; Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun. The pale purple even Melts around thy flight Like a star of Heaven, In the broad daylight Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight, 20 Keen as are the arrows Of that silver sphere, Whose intense lamp narrows In the white dawn clear Until we hardly see — we feel that it is there.
Page 296 - 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 288 - Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill...
Page 300 - Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower. Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view.
Page 295 - The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes, And his burning plumes outspread, Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, When the morning star shines dead ; As on the jag of a mountain crag, Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings. And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit...
Page 290 - The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss, and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! — Thou For whose path the Atlantic's level powers Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below 46 The sea-blooms, and the oozy woods which wear The sapless foliage of the ocean, know Thy voice, and suddenly...
Page 295 - May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer ; And I laugh to see them whirl...
Page 297 - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

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