I weep for Adonais - he is dead! O, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!
Chameleons feed on light and air: Poets' food is love and fame: If in this wide world of care
Arise, arise, arise! There is blood on the earth that denies ye bread; Be your wounds like eyes
FROM THE GREEK OF PLATO. Thou wert the morning star among the living, Ere thy fair light had fled; -
How eloquent are eyes! Not the rapt poet's frenzied lay When the soul's wildest feelings stray
Thy beauty hangs around thee like Splendour around the moon - Thy voice, as silver bells that strike
Posthumous Fragments Of Margaret Mcholson. Being Poems found amongst the Papers of that noted Female who attempted the life of the King in 1786. Edited by John Fitzvictor. [The "Posthumous Fragments", published at Oxford by Shelley, appeared in November, 1810.]
As the sunrise to the night, As the north wind to the clouds, As the earthquake's fiery flight,
EPODE 1a. I stood within the City disinterred; And heard the autumnal leaves like light footfalls
1. O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
A: Not far from hence. From yonder pointed hill, Crowned with a ring of oaks, you may behold
1. Thou wert not, Cassius, and thou couldst not be, Last of the Romans, though thy memory claim
Vessels of heavenly medicine! may the breeze Auspicious waft your dark green forms to shore; Safe may ye stem the wide surrounding roar
If I walk in Autumn's even While the dead leaves pass, If I look on Spring's soft heaven, -
1. Ah! faint are her limbs, and her footstep is weary, Yet far must the desolate wanderer roam;
1. How, my dear Mary, are you critic-bitten (For vipers kill, though dead) by some review,
1. 'Twas dead of the night, when I sat in my dwelling; One glimmering lamp was expiring and low;