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Ahasuerus Anarchs ANTISTROPHE art thou beams beasts Beatr beautiful beneath blood breath bright burning calm cave Cenci child clouds cold coursers Cyclops dare dark dead death deep delight Demogorgon divine doth dread dream earth eternal eyes faint fair fear fire flame fled flowers gaze gentle Giac golden grave green grey hair hast hate hear heard heart heaven hope hopes and fears human Iona Laon light lips living lone looks mighty moon morning mortal mountains never night nursling o'er ocean pale Peter Bell Prometheus round ruin sate scorn Semichorus shadow shapes silent slavery slaves sleep smile soul sound speak spirit stars strange stream sweet swift tears tempest Thebes thee thine things thou art thought throne truth twas tyrant veil voice wake wandering waves weep Whilst wild wind wings words
Página 552 - 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 And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed. And on the pedestal these words appear: ' My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair !
Página 507 - Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory — Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.
Página 497 - Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noontide bee, Shall I nestle near thy side? Wouldst thou me? — And I replied, No, not thee ! Death will come when thou art dead, Soon, too soon — Sleep will come when thou art fled; Of neither would I ask the boon I ask of thee, beloved Night — Swift be thine approaching flight, Come soon, soon!
Página 503 - LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion ; Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle — Why not I with thine...
Página 256 - To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite; To forgive wrongs darker than death or night; To defy Power, which seems omnipotent; To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates From its own wreck the thing it contemplates; Neither to change, nor falter, nor repent; This, like thy glory, Titan, is to be Good, great and joyous, beautiful and free; This is alone Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory.
Página 454 - 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! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened earth The...
Página 67 - 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.
Página 323 - O, weep for Adonais ! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head ! And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers, And teach them thine own sorrow, say : with me Died Adonais ; till the Future dares Forget the Past, his fate and fame shall be An echo and a light unto eternity.
Página 472 - Than we mortals dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream ? We look before and after, And pine for what is not : Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were,...