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February... Bending from Heaven, in azure mirth, It kissed the forehead of the Earth, And smiled upon the silent sea, And bade the frozen streams be free, And waked to music all their fountains, And breathed upon the frozen mountains.

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
Music
Streams
February
Silent
Foreheads
Waked
Sea
Mirth
Bade
Mountain
Kissed
Fountains
Heaven
Smiled
Azure
Upon
Fountain
Breathed
Free
Frozen
Bending
Earth
Mountains
Forehead

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Joy, once lost, is pain
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The more we study the more we discover our ignorance.
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... Virtue owns a more eternal foe Than Force or Fraud: old Custom, legal Crime, And bloody Faith the foulest birth of Time.
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Those who love not their fellow-beings live unfruitful lives, and prepare for their old age a miserable grave.
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The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.
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Thou Paradise of exiles, Italy!
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I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me- who knows how? To thy chamber-window, Sweet!
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Truth has always been found to promote the best interests of mankind.
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A Christian, a Deist, a Turk, and a Jew, have equal rights: they are men and brethren.
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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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Whatever strengthens and purifies the affections, enlarges the imagination, and adds spirit to sense, is useful.
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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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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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The intense atom glows A moment, then is quenched in a most cold repose.
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The jealous keys of truth's eternal doors.
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Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.
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The world is weary of the past, Oh, might it die or rest at last!
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Gold is a living god and rules in scorn, All earthly things but virtue.
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All spirits are enslaved which serve things evil
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See the mountains kiss high Heaven And the waves clasp one another No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea - What is all this sweet work worth If thou kiss not me?
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