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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.

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
Follow
Gray
Fairest
Hours
March
Rave
May
Graves
February
Time
Flowers
Howl
Like
Seasons
January
Grief
Doth
Sexton
Bears
April
Bier
Flower
Grave
Weeps

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And many an ante-natal tomb Where butterflies dream of the life to come.
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No one has yet been found resolute enough in dogmatizing to deny that Nature made man equal that society has destroyed this equality is a truth not more incontrovertible.
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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.
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Honour sits smiling at the sale of truth.
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It is found easier, by the short-sighted victims of disease, to palliate their torments by medicine, than to prevent them by regimen
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O cease! must hate and death return, Cease! must men kill and die? Cease! drain not to its dregs the urn Of bitter prophecy. The world is weary of the past, Oh, might it die or rest at last!
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The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.
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Whatever strengthens and purifies the affections, enlarges the imagination, and adds spirit to sense, is useful.
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Ere Babylon was dust, The Magus Zoroaster, my dead child, Met his own image walking in the garden, That apparition, sole of men, he saw.
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Love, from its awful throne of patient power In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour Of dread endurance, from the slippery, steep, And narrow verge of crag-like agony, springs And folds over the world its healing wings.
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How beautiful is sunset when the glow Of Heaven descends upon a land like thee, Thou Paradise of exiles, Italy!
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Let me set my mournful ditty To a merry measure Thou wilt never come for pity, Thou wilt come for pleasure Pity then will cut away Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.
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... a wild dissolving bliss Over my frame he breathed, approaching near, And bent his eyes of kindling tenderness Near mine, and on my lips impressed a lingering kiss
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The great secret of morals is Love or a going out of our own nature, and an identification of ourselves with the beautiful which exists in thought, action, or person, not our own.
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Rise like Lions after slumber In unvanquishable number- Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep had fallen on you Ye are many-they are few.
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Religion! but for thee, prolific fiend, Who peoplest earth with demons, hell with men, And heaven with slaves!
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The rich have become richer, and the poor have become poorer and the vessel of the state is driven between the Scylla and Charybdis of anarchy and despotism.
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I love Love - though he has wings, And like light can flee, But above all other things, Spirit, I love thee - Thou art love and life! Oh come, Make once more my heart thy home.
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Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.
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But hope will make thee young, for Hope and Youth Are children of one mother, even Love.
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