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I stood within the city disinterred And heard the autumnal leaves like light footfalls Of spirits passng through the streets and heard the Mountain's slumberous voice at intervals Thrill through those roofless halls The oracular thunder penetrating shook The listening soul in my suspended blood.

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
Soul
Listening
Thrill
Oracular
Like
Cities
Halls
Autumnal
Blood
Stood
Penetrating
Heard
Leaves
Intervals
Within
Mountain
Suspended
Voice
City
Shook
Spirit
Quiet
Thunder
Light
Streets
Spirits

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It is among men of genius and science that atheism alone is found.
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Where is perfection? Where I cannot reach.
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The practice of utter sincerity towards other men would avail to no good end, if they were incapable of practising it towards their own minds. In fact, truth cannot be communicated until it is perceived.
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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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O'er Egypt's land of memory floods are level, And they are thine, O Nile! and well thou knowest The soul-sustaining airs and blasts of evil, And fruits, and poisons spring where'er thou flowest.
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The jealous keys of truth's eternal doors.
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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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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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That orbed maiden, with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon.
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Power, like a desolating pestilence, pollutes whatever it touches.
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I love Love -- though he has wings, And like light can flee.
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There is no real wealth but the labour of man. Were the mountains of gold and the valleys of silver, the world would not be one grain of corn the richer no one comfort would be added to the human race.
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There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!
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Design must be proved before a designer can be inferred.
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Whatever may be his true and final destination, there is a spirit within him at enmity with nothingness and dissolution. This is the character of all life and being.
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Underneath Day's azure eyes, Ocean's nursling, Venice lies, A peopled labyrinth of walls, Amphitrite's destined halls
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This lake exceeds anything I ever beheld in beauty.
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Their errors have been weighed and found to have been dust in the balance if their sins were as scarlet, they are now white as snow: they have been washed in the blood of the mediator and the redeemer, Time.
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Worse than despair, Worse than the bitterness of death, is hope.
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Let there be light! Said Liberty , And like sunrise from the sea, Athens arose!
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