Most wretched men Are cradled into poetry by wrong: They learn in suffering what they teach in song. — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame Over his living head like heaven is bent, An early but enduring monument, Came, veiling all… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
I am not much of a hand at love songs, you see I mingle metaphysics with even this, but perhaps in this… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
Rough wind, the moanest loud Grief too sad for song; Wild wind, when sullen cloud Knells all the night long; Sad storm,… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
The everlasting universe of things Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves, Now dark--now glittering--now reflecting gloom-- Now lending splendour, where from… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
“Though we eat little flesh and drink no wine, Yet let's be merry; we'll have tea and toast; Custards for supper, and an endless… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
Titles are tinsel, power a corrupter, glorya bubble, and excessive wealth a libel on its possessor. — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
“Poets and philosophers are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.” — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
Dar'st thou amid the varied multitude To live alone, an isolated thing? — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon Of human thought or form, where art thou gone?… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
I love tranquil solitude, And such society As is quiet, wise, and good; Between thee and me What difference? but thou dost possess The… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
