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

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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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As belief is a passion of the mind, no degree of criminality is attachable to disbelief.
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So is Hope Changed for Despair-one laid upon the shelf, We take the other. Under heaven's high cope Fortune is god-all you endure and do Depends on circumstance as much as you.
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Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange
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In each human heart terror survives The ravin it has gorged: the loftiest fear All that they would disdain to think were true: Hypocrisy and custom make their minds The fanes of many a worship, now outworn. They dare not devise good for man's estate, And yet they know not that they do not dare.
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Worse than despair, Worse than the bitterness of death, is hope.
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O! I burn with impatience for the moment of the dissolution of intolerance it has injured me.
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I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear.
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Image of rugged cliffs And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.
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Thus suicidal selfishness, that blights The fairest feelings of the opening heart, Is destined to decay, whilst from the soil Shall spring all virtue, all delight, all love, And judgment cease to wage unnatural war With passion's unsubduable array.
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When a thing is said to be not worth refuting you may be sure that either it is flagrantly stupid - in which case all comment is superfluous - or it is something formidable, the very crux of the problem.
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And many an ante-natal tomb Where butterflies dream of the life to come.
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I have been a wanderer among distant fields. I have sailed down mighty rivers.
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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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Be your strong and simple words Keen to wound as sharpened swords, And wide as targes let them be, With their shade to cover ye.
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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
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Belief is involuntary nothing involuntary is meritorious or reprehensible. A man ought not to be considered worse or better for his belief.
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Then black despair, The shadow of a starless night, was thrown Over the world in which I moved alone.
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The crime of inquiry is one which religion never has forgiven.
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A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds his auditors are as men entranced by the melody of an unseen musician, who feel that they are moved and softened, yet know not whence or why.
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