The following 29 quotes match your criteria:
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
Then black despair,
The shadow of a starless night, was thrown
Over the world in which I moved alone. |
| The Revolt of Islam. Dedication, Stanza 6.
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| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
With hue like that when some great painter dips
His pencil in the gloom of earthquake and eclipse. |
| The Revolt of Islam. Canto v. Stanza 23.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
The awful shadow of some unseen Power
Floats, tho’ unseen, amongst us. |
| Hymn to Intellectual Beauty.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
Over his living head like heaven is bent,
An early but enduring monument,
Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song
In sorrow. |
| Adonais. xxx.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Stains the white radiance of eternity. |
| Adonais. lii.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
O thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within its grave, until
Thine azure sister of the spring shall blow
Her clarion o’er the dreaming earth. |
| Ode to the West Wind.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
Lull’d by the coil of his crystalline streams
Beside a pumice isle in Baiæ’s bay,
And saw in sleep old palaces and towers |
| Ode to the West Wind.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the moon. |
| The Cloud. iv.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
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. |
| To a Skylark. Line 86.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
Kings are like stars,—they rise and set, they have
The worship of the world, but no repose. |
| Hellas. Line 195.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
The moon of Mahomet
Arose, and it shall set;
While, blazoned as on heaven’s immortal noon,
The cross leads generations on. |
| Hellas. Line 221.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
The world’s great age begins anew,
The golden years return,
The earth doth like a snake renew
Her winter weeds outworn. |
| Hellas. Line 1060.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
| What! alive, and so bold, O earth? |
| Written on hearing the News of the Death of Napoleon.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
All love is sweet,
Given or returned. Common as light is love,
And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
. . . . . |
| Prometheus Unbound. Act ii. Sc. 5.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
Those who inflict must suffer, for they see
The work of their own hearts, and this must be
Our chastisement or recompense. |
| Julian and Maddalo. Line 482.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
Most wretched men
Are cradled into poetry by wrong:
They learn in suffering what they teach in song. |
| Julian and Maddalo. Line 544.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
I could lie down like a tired child,
And weep away the life of care
Which I have borne, and yet must bear. |
| Stanzas written in Dejection, near Naples. Stanza 4.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
Peter was dull; he was at first
Dull,—oh so dull, so very dull!
Whether he talked, wrote, or rehearsed,
Still with this dulness was he cursed!
Dull,—beyond all conception, dull. |
| Peter Bell the Third. Part vii. xi.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
A lovely lady, garmented in light
From her own beauty. |
| The Witch of Atlas. Stanza 5.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken. |
| Music, when soft Voices die.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
I love tranquil solitude
And such society
As is quiet, wise, and good. |
| Rarely, rarely comest Thou.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one. |
| To Jane. The keen Stars were twinkling.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow. |
| One Word is too often profaned.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
| You lie—under a mistake, |
| Translation of Calderon’s Magico Prodigioso. Scene i.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
Power, like a desolating pestilence,
Pollutes whate’er it touches; and obedience,
Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,
Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame
A mechanized automaton. |
| Queen Mab. iii.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
Heaven’s ebon vault
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the moon’s unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which love has spread
To curtain her sleeping world. |
| Queen Mab. iv.
|
| Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley |
| Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present. |
| A Defence of Poetry.
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