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O heart, and mind, and thoughts! what thing do you Hope to inherit in the grave below?

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
Heart
Thing
Mind
Inherit
Grave
Graves
Thoughts
Hope

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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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Through the sunset of hope, Like the shapes of a dream, What paradise islands of glory gleam!
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For there are deeds which have no form, sufferings which have no tongue.
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Whence are we, and why are we? Of what scene The actors or spectators?
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This, and no other, is justice: — to consider, under all the circumstances and consequences of a particular case, how the greatest quantity and purest quality of happiness will ensue from any action ... there is no other justice.
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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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I have drunken deep of joy, And I will taste no other wine tonight.
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Everytime we say that god is the author of some phenomenon, that signifies that we are ignorant of how such a phenomenon was caused by the forces of nature.
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Men must reap the things they sow, Force from force must ever flow.
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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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And Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
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All love is sweet, given or received.
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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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Not the swart Pariah in some Indian grove, Lone, lean, and hunted by his brother's hate, Hath drunk so deep the cup of bitter fate As that poor wretch who cannot, cannot love: He bears a load which nothing can remove, A killing, withering weight.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Thou demandest what is love? It is that powerful attraction towards all that we conceive, or fear, or hope beyond ourselves, when we find within our own thoughts the chasm of an insufficient void, and seek to awaken in all things that are, a community with what we experience within ourselves.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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For the Sensitive Plant has no bright flower Radiance and odour are not its dower It loves, even like Love, its deep heart is full, It desires what it has not, the beautiful.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The intense atom glows A moment, then is quenched in a most cold repose.
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I think that the leaf of a tree, the meanest insect on which we trample, are in themselves arguments more conclusive than any which can be adduced that some vast intellect animates Infinity.
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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
Percy Bysshe Shelley