Percy Bysshe Shelley

(1792-1822 / Horsham / England)

Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley

281. To Harriet 4/1/2010
282. To Harriet -- It Is Not Blasphemy To Hope That Heaven 4/1/2010
283. To-- I Fear Thy Kisses, Gentle Maiden 4/1/2010
284. To Ianthe 4/1/2010
285. To Ireland 4/1/2010
286. To Italy 4/1/2010
287. To Jane: The Keen Stars Were Twinkling 4/1/2010
288. To Jane: The Recollection 4/1/2010
289. To Mary 4/1/2010
290. To Mary ---- 4/1/2010
291. To Mary Shelley 4/1/2010
292. To Mary Who Died In This Opinion 4/1/2010
293. To Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin 4/1/2010
294. To Night 12/31/2002
295. To-- Oh! there are spirits of the air 4/1/2010
296. To-- One word is too often profaned 4/1/2010
297. To Sophia (Miss Stacey) 4/1/2010
298. To The Lord Chancellor 4/1/2010
299. To The Men Of England 1/13/2003
300. To The Mind Of Man 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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