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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

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Bed Black Death Myself Reward Win

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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
Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Consumption Light Poet Poetry Power
I pant, I sink, I tremble, I expire!
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Death Fear Myself Tremble
Strange thoughts beget strange deeds.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Action One Liner Result Strange Thinking
Man who man would be, must rule the empire of himself.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Himself Kingdom Man Rule
Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine, In one spirit meet and mingle-Why not I with thine?
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Divine Law Myself Spirit World
I have drunken deep of joy, And I will taste no other wine tonight.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Deep Drink Joy Taste Tonight Wine
I have been a wanderer among distant fields. I have sailed down mighty rivers.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Distance Field Myself River Travel
We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Laughter Look Pain Sadness Sincere Song Sweet Thinking
If God has spoken, why is the world not convinced.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

God Religion Satisfaction Talk World
When a thing is said to be not worth refuting you may be sure that either it is flagrantly stupid – in which case all comment is superfluous – or it is something formidable, the very crux of the problem.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Fragrance Problem Stupidity Worth Yourself
It is not a merit to tolerate, but rather a crime to be intolerant.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Crime Difference Tolerance
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Music Ourselves Sadness Song Sweet Talk Thinking
The jealous keys of truth’s eternal doors.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Door Forever Jealous Key Truth
The pleasure that is in sorrow is sweeter than the pleasure of pleasure itself.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Happiness Sorrow Sweet
There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

Autumn Harmony See Sky Summer Thinking

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