Peter was dull; he was at first Dull,-oh so dull, so very dull! Whether he talked, wrote, or rehearsed, Still with this dulness was he cursed! Dull,-beyond all conception, dull.
Percy Shelley (1792 - 1822)
Source: Peter Bell the Third. Part vii. xi.
Contributed by: Zaady
Power, like a desolating pestilence, Pollutes whate'er it touches; and obedience, Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth, Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame A mechanized automaton.
Source: Queen Mab. iii.
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing A tone Of some world far from ours, Where music and moonlight and feeling Are one.
Source: To Jane. The keen Stars were twinkling.
That orbed maiden with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon.
Source: The Cloud. iv.
The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow.
Source: One Word is too often profaned.
The moon of Mahomet Arose, and it shall set; While, blazoned as on heaven's immortal noon, The cross leads generations on.
Source: Line 195.Line 221.
The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame Over his living head like heaven is bent, An early but enduring monument, Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song In sorrow.
Source: Adonais. xxx.
There is a harmony In autumn, and a lustre in its sky, Which through the summer is not heard or seen, As if it could not be, as if it had not been!
How wonderful is Death! Death and his brother Sleep.
Source: Queen Mab. i.
I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear.
Source: Stanzas written in Dejection, near Naples. Stanza 4.
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