Percy Bysshe Shelley

(1792-1822 / Horsham / England)

Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley

281. To Emilia Viviani 4/1/2010
282. To Harriet 4/1/2010
283. To Harriet -- It Is Not Blasphemy To Hope That Heaven 4/1/2010
284. To-- I Fear Thy Kisses, Gentle Maiden 4/1/2010
285. To Ianthe 4/1/2010
286. To Ireland 4/1/2010
287. To Italy 4/1/2010
288. To Jane: The Keen Stars Were Twinkling 4/1/2010
289. To Jane: The Recollection 4/1/2010
290. To Mary 4/1/2010
291. To Mary ---- 4/1/2010
292. To Mary Shelley 4/1/2010
293. To Mary Who Died In This Opinion 4/1/2010
294. To Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin 4/1/2010
295. To-- Music, when soft voices die 4/1/2010
296. To Night 12/31/2002
297. To-- Oh! there are spirits of the air 4/1/2010
298. To-- One word is too often profaned 4/1/2010
299. To Sophia (Miss Stacey) 4/1/2010
300. To The Lord Chancellor 4/1/2010


How stern are the woes of the desolate mourner
As he bends in still grief o'er the hallowed bier,
As enanguished he turns from the laugh of the scorner,
And drops to perfection's remembrance a tear;
When floods of despair down his pale cheeks are streaming,
When no blissful hope on his bosom is beaming,
Or, if lulled for a while, soon he starts from his dreaming,
And finds torn the soft ties to affection so dear.
Ah, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave,

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