poem's percy shelley

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Percy Bysshe Shelley (4 August 1792 – 8 July 1822) 

One of the major English Romantic poets, and is regarded by some as among the finest lyric poets in the English language, and one of the most influential. (Wikipedia)

From our stacks: Frontispiece “PB Shelley. J.A.J. Wilcox, Sc.”, poem ‘The Past’, and title page illustration “Field Place” from The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley. Cambridge Edition. Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1901.

I sang of the dancing stars,
        I sang of the daedal Earth,
And of Heaven, and the giant wars,
        And Love, and Death, and Birth—
               And then I chang’d my pipings,
Singing how down the vale of Maenalus
        I pursu’d a maiden and clasp’d a reed.
Gods and men, we are all deluded thus!
        It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed.
All wept, as I think both ye now would,
If envy or age had not frozen your blood,
               At the sorrow of my sweet pipings.
—  Percy Bysshe Shelley, “Hymn of Pan”
“Love’s Philosophy” by Percy Bysshe Shelley (b. 4 August 1792)

The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In another’s being mingle–
Why not I with thine?

See, the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower could be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea;–
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

“Love’s Philosophy”- Percy Shelley (1792-1822)

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 spirit meet and mingle.
  Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high heaven
  And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
  If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
  And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
  If thou kiss not me?

Evening Idyll, Egide François Leemans (1839-1883)

"The Moon", Percy Bysshe Shelley

I

AND, like a dying lady lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapp’d in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The mood arose up in the murky east,
A white and shapeless mass.

II

        Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
        Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

The Moon~ Percy Bysshe Shelley


Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy? 

And, like a dying lady lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapped in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky east,
A white and shapeless mass.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

2

“I met a traveler from an antique land/Who said- “Two vast and trunkless paws of stone/ stand in the desert…..”

Classicat #36: Pawzymandias by Purrcy Shelley

All the works of cats are futile and fleeting…..power is an illusion…..

On This Day...

On this day in 1816, English poet Lord Byron hosted fellow ex-pats Percy Shelley, Mary Shelley, Claire Clairmont, and his personal physician John Polidori at his rented summer home at Villa Diodati in the village of Cologny near Lake Geneva, Switzerland. The weather outside was miserably cold and rainy, preventing any lake excursions. To pass the time, Byron read from the Fantasmagoriana; a French anthology of German ghost stories. At the end of the reading, Byron challenged everyone present to devise their own horror stories. This challenge resulted in Mary Shelley writing Frankenstein, Polidori in writing The Vampyre, and Byron himself in writing the poem “Darkness.”

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