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My father Time is weak and gray With waiting for a better day See how idiot-like he stands, Fumbling with his palsied hands!
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Percy Bysshe Shelley
Age: 29 †
Born: 1792
Born: August 4
Died: 1822
Died: July 8
Linguist
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Percy Byssche Shelley
Percy Shelley
Shelli Persi Bish
Weak
Waiting
Father
Hands
Palsied
Better
Fumbling
Time
Gray
Like
Idiot
Stands
More quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley
I am not much of a hand at love songs, you see I mingle metaphysics with even this, but perhaps in this age of Philosophy that may be excused.
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Rulers, who neither see, nor feel, nor know, but leech-like to their fainting country cling, till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow, - a people starved and stabbed in the untilled field.
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January gray is here, like a sexton by her grave February bears the bier, march with grief doth howl and rave, and April weeps -- but, O ye hours! Follow with May's fairest flowers.
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Among true and real friends, all is common and were ignorance and envy and superstition banished from the world, all mankind would be friend.
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As belief is a passion of the mind, no degree of criminality is attachable to disbelief.
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For there are deeds which have no form, sufferings which have no tongue.
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The jealous keys of truth's eternal doors.
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The One remains, the many change and pass Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity, Until Death tramples it to fragments.
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Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains, And feeds her grief.
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So soon as this want or power [of love] is dead, man becomes the living sepulchre of himself, and what yet survives is the mere husk of what once he was.
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He gave man speech, and speech created thought, Which is the measure of the universe.
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This lake exceeds anything I ever beheld in beauty.
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When the power of imparting joy is equal to the will, the human soul requires no other heaven.
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Thou demandest what is love? It is that powerful attraction towards all that we conceive, or fear, or hope beyond ourselves, when we find within our own thoughts the chasm of an insufficient void, and seek to awaken in all things that are, a community with what we experience within ourselves.
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As long as skies are blue, and fields are green Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow, Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The most fertile districts of the habitable globe are now actually cultivated by men for animals, at a delay and waste of aliment absolutely incapable of calculation
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The young moon has fed Her exhausted horn With the sunset's fire.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
At the very time that philosophers of the most enterprising benevolence were founding in Greece those institutions which have rendered it the wonder and luminary of the world, am I required to believe that the weak and wicked king of an obscure and barbarous nation, a murderer, a traitor and a tyrant, was the man after God's own heart?
Percy Bysshe Shelley
O heart, and mind, and thoughts! what thing do you Hope to inherit in the grave below?
Percy Bysshe Shelley