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From: Great Works of Literature
Date: 19920101
Author:Shelley, Percy Bysshe
00-00-0000
Lines To An Indian Air
I Arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low And the stars are shining bright: I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Hath led me - who knows how? To thy chamber - window, Sweet!
The wandering airs they faint On the dark, the silent stream - The champak odours fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream; The nightingale's complaint It dies upon her heart, As I must die on thine O beloved as thou art!
Of lift me from the grass! I die, I faint, I fail! Let thy love in kisses rain On my lips and ...
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