Quote

I am gone into the fields To take what this sweet hour yields Reflection, you may come to-morrow, Sit by the fireside with Sorrow. You with the unpaid bill, Despair, You, tiresome verse-reciter, Care, I will pay you in the grave, Death will listen to your stave.

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
Care
Sorrow
Grave
Stave
May
Fields
Yield
Fireside
Come
Sweet
Graves
Unpaid
Take
Pay
Bill
Tiresome
Listen
Bills
Yields
Gone
Reflection
Morrow
Hours
Despair
Verse
Death
Hour
Verses

More quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Thy words are like a cloud of winged snakes.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Near that a dusty paint-box, some odd hooks, A half-burnt match, an ivory block, three books, Where conic sections, spherics, logarithms, To great Laplace, from Saunderson and Sims, Lie heaped in their harmonious disarray Of figures,-disentangle them who may.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Like a glowworm golden, in a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden its aerial blue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Chameleons feed on light and air: Poets food is love and fame.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Narrow The heart that loves, the brain that contemplates, The life that wears, the spirit that creates One object, and one form, and builds thereby A sepulchre for its eternity.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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... a wild dissolving bliss Over my frame he breathed, approaching near, And bent his eyes of kindling tenderness Near mine, and on my lips impressed a lingering kiss
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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He hath awakened from the dream of life.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Whatever strengthens and purifies the affections, enlarges the imagination, and adds spirit to sense, is useful.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The great secret of morals is Love or a going out of our own nature, and an identification of ourselves with the beautiful which exists in thought, action, or person, not our own.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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I have been a wanderer among distant fields. I have sailed down mighty rivers.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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This lake exceeds anything I ever beheld in beauty.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Ah! what a divine religion might be found out if charity were really made the principle of it instead of faith.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Dar'st thou amid the varied multitude To live alone, an isolated thing?
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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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Is it not odd that the only generous person I ever knew, who had money to be generous with, should be a stockbroker.
Percy Bysshe Shelley