I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under; And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEYPoetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
More Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes
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Heaven’s ebon vault Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon’s unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy which love has spread To curtain her sleeping world.
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The pleasure that is in sorrow is sweeter than the pleasure of pleasure itself.
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History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.
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To hearts which near each other move From evening close to morning light,The night is good; because, my love,They never say good-night.
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The young moon has fed Her exhausted horn With the sunset’s fire.
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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.
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Love withers under constraints: its very essence is liberty: it is compatible neither with obedience, jealousy, nor fear.
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Love’s very pain is sweet.
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In fact, truth cannot be communicated until it is perceived.
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A single word even may be a spark of inextinguishable thought.
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Love’s very pain is sweet, But its reward is in the world divine Which, if not here, it builds beyond the grave.
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All love is sweet Given or returned. Common as light is love, And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
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When a man marries, dies, or turns Hindu, his best friends hear no more of him.
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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.
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Poets, not otherwise than philosophers, painters, sculptors, and musicians, are, in one sense, the creators, and, in another, the creations, of their age.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY