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History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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History Man Memories Poem Writing

Bagwalas

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

Rise like Lions after slumber In unvanquishable number- Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep had fallen on you Ye are many-they are few.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Earth Fall Rise Sleep Yourself
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.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Darkness Dreams Earth Fair Feeling Flower Garden Love Rest Rose Spirit
Government is an evil; it is only the thoughtlessness and vices of men that make it a necessary evil. When all men are good and wise, government will of itself decay.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Evil Goodness Government Man Necessary Thinking Vice Willing
I pant, I sink, I tremble, I expire!
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Death Fear Myself Tremble
Hell is a city much like London A populous and smoky city.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

City Fame Hell Popular Smoke
I love snow, snow, and all the forms of radiant frost.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Love Myself Radiance Snow
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Music Ourselves Sadness Song Sweet Talk Thinking
There is no disease, bodily or mental, which adoption of vegetable diet, and pure water has not infallibly mitigated, wherever the experiment has been fairly tried.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Body Experiment Fair Mental Purity Sick Try Water
The young moon has fed Her exhausted horn With the sunset’s fire.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Exhaustion Fed Fire Moon Sun Young
It is only by softening and disguising dead flesh by culinary preparation that it is rendered susceptible of mastication or digestion, and that the sight of its bloody juices and raw horror does not excite intolerable loathing and disgust.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Blood Disguise Excitement Hate Horror Preparation Soft Tolerance
Joy, once lost, is pain.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Joy Lost Pain
The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Goodness Greatness Imagination Instrument Moral
Music, when soft voices die Vibrates in the memory.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Death Memories Music Soft Vibration Voice
O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Hard Time Inspirational Spring Struggle Wind
It is not a merit to tolerate, but rather a crime to be intolerant.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Crime Difference Tolerance
I love all waste And solitary places; where we taste The pleasure of believing what we see Is boundless, as we wish our souls to be.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Believe Love Ourselves Place See Soul Wasted

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