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The young moon has fed Her exhausted horn With the sunset’s fire.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Exhaustion Fed Fire Moon Sun Young

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I have made my bed In charnels and on coffins, where black death Keeps record of the trophies won.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Bed Black Death Myself Reward Win
Fame, power, and gold, are loved for their own sakes – are worshipped with a blind, habitual idolatry.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Fame Gold Idol Love Power Worship
O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Hard Time Inspirational Spring Struggle Wind
Away, away, from men and towns, To the wild wood and the downs, – To the silent wilderness, Where the soul need not repress Its music.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

City Man Music Silence Soul Spiritual Wild
I have been a wanderer among distant fields. I have sailed down mighty rivers.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Distance Field Myself River Travel
The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Command Man Obey Soul Virtue
The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the Year On the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Bed Death Earth Failure Flower Leaving Lying Sun Warm Wind
First our pleasures die – and then our hopes, and then our fears – and when these are dead, the debt is due dust claims dust – and we die too.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Death Fear Happiness Hope Ourselves
A single word even may be a spark of inextinguishable thought.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Literature Power Thinking Word
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
Strange thoughts beget strange deeds.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Action One Liner Result Strange Thinking
Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Deep Future Inspirational Mirror Poet Present Shadow
War is the statesman’s game, the priest’s delight, the lawyer’s jest, the hired assassin’s trade.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Game Law Trade War
All love is sweet Given or returned. Common as light is love, And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Light Love Return Voice
I love snow, snow, and all the forms of radiant frost.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Love Myself Radiance Snow
In fact, truth cannot be communicated until it is perceived.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Communication Fact Fear Truth

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