The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Volume 1

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Reeves and Turner, 1876
 

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Page 349 - Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon Of human thought or form, where art thou gone ? Why dost thou pass away and leave our state, This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate...
Page 349 - Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed : And on the pedestal these words appear : 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair !
Page 349 - Of life, at that sweet time when winds are wooing All vital things that wake to bring News of birds and blossoming, Sudden, thy shadow fell on me ; I shrieked, and clasped my hands in ecstasy ! I vowed that I would dedicate my powers To thee and thine : have I not kept the vow...
Page 85 - Without reproach or check." I then controlled My tears, my heart grew calm, and I was meek and bold. And from that hour did I with earnest thought Heap knowledge from forbidden mines of lore, Yet nothing that my tyrants knew or taught I cared to learn, but from that secret store Wrought linked armour for my soul, before It might walk forth to war among mankind...
Page 349 - I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read...
Page 162 - But on her forehead and within her eye Lay beauty, which makes hearts that feed thereon Sick with excess of sweetness; — on the throne She leaned. The King, with gathered brow and lips Wreathed by long scorn, did inly sneer and frown With hue like that when some great painter dips His pencil in the gloom of earthquake and eclipse.
Page 347 - mid lawny hills Which the wild sea-murmur fills, And soft sunshine, and the sound Of old forests echoing round, And the light and smell divine Of all flowers that breathe and shine.
Page 349 - Frail spells, whose uttered charm might not avail to sever, From all we hear and all we see, Doubt, chance, and mutability.
Page 13 - By solemn vision and bright silver dream His infancy was nurtured. Every sight And sound from the vast earth and ambient air Sent to his heart its choicest impulses. The fountains of divine philosophy Fled not his thirsting lips : and all of great Or good or lovely which the sacred past In truth or fable consecrates he felt And knew.
Page 18 - Whither have fled The hues of heaven that canopied his bower Of yesternight ? the sounds that soothed his sleep, The mystery and the majesty of earth, The joy, the exultation? His wan eyes Gaze on the empty scene as vacantly As ocean's moon looks on the moon in heaven.

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