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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.

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
Song
Sorrow
Life
Fame
Pilgrim
Like
Early
Enduring
Whose
Monument
Head
Bent
Came
Lightning
Heaven
Endure
Living
Eternity

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The Galilean is not a favorite of mine. So far from owing him any thanks for his favor, I cannot avoid confessing that I owe a secret grudge to his carpentership.
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Obedience indeed is only the pitiful and cowardly egotism of him who thinks that he can do something better than reason.
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Mild is the slow necessity of death The tranquil spirit fails beneath its grasp, Without a groan, almost without a fear, Resigned in peace to the necessity Calm as a voyager to some distant land, And full of wonder, full of hope as he.
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Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory Odors, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken.
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The wise want love and those who love want wisdom.
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All spirits are enslaved which serve things evil
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Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine, In one spirit meet and mingle-Why not I with thine?
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And many more Destructions played In this ghastly masquerade, All disguised, even to the eyes, Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.
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Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains, And feeds her grief.
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I know The past and thence I will essay to glean A warning for the future, so that man May profit by his errors, and derive Experience from his folly For, when the power of imparting joy Is equal to the will, the human soul Requires no other heaven.
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Gentleness, Virtue, Wisdom, and Endurance, These are the seals of that most firm assurance Which bars the pit over Destruction's strength And if, with infirm hand, Eternity, Mother of many acts and hours, should free The serpent that would clasp her with his length These are the spells by which to reassume An empire o'er the disentangled doom.
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The world is weary of the past, Oh, might it die or rest at last!
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Love is free to promise for ever to love the same woman is not less absurd than to promise to believe the same creed such a vow in both cases excludes us from all inquiry.
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The breath Of accusation kills an innocent name, And leaves for lame acquittal the poor life, Which is a mask without it.
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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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A dream has power to poison sleep.
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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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Sow seed--but let no tyrant reap Find wealth--let no imposter heap Weave robes--let not the idle wear Forge arms--in your defence to bear.
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It is vain philosophy that supposes more causes than are exactly adequate to explain the phenomena of things.
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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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