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I have been a wanderer among distant fields. I have sailed down mighty rivers.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Related Topics

Distance Field Myself River Travel

Bagwalas

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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
In fact, truth cannot be communicated until it is perceived.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Communication Fact Fear Truth
If God has spoken, why is the world not convinced.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

God Religion Satisfaction Talk World
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Bird Cheerful Darkness Poet Solitude Sound Sweet
Life may change, but it may fly not; Hope may vanish, but can die not; Truth be veiled, but still it burneth; Love repulsed, – but it returneth!
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Change Death Fly Hope Life Return Truth
Familiar acts are beautiful through love.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Act Action Beautiful Love
Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Lips Lover One Liner Relationship Soul Trouble
Honour sits smiling at the sale of truth.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Honor One Liner Smile Truth
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
Before man can be free, and equal, and truly wise, he must cast aside the chains of habit and superstition; he must strip sensuality of its pomp, and selfishness of its excuses, and contemplate actions and objects as they really are.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Action Equality Freedom Habit Man Object Selfish True Wisdom
Man who man would be, must rule the empire of himself.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Himself Kingdom Man Rule
The howl of self-interest is loud but the heart is black which throbs solely to its note.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Black Heart Loud Note
A sensitive plant in a garden grew, And the young winds fed it with silver dew, And it opened its fan like leaves to the light, and closed them beneath the kisses of night.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Garden Growth Kiss Light Night Open Plant Wind Young
If a person’s religious ideas correspond not with your own, love him nevertheless.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Himself Ideas Love Person Religious
History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

History Man Memories Poem Writing
I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, when the winds are breathing low, and the stars are shining bright.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Breathe Bright Dreams Night Shine Sleep Stars

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