Percy Bysshe Shelley

(1792-1822 / Horsham / England)

I Stood Upon A Heaven-cleaving Turret


I stood upon a heaven-cleaving turret
Which overlooked a wide Metropolis--
And in the temple of my heart my Spirit
Lay prostrate, and with parted lips did kiss
The dust of Desolations [altar] hearth--
And with a voice too faint to falter
It shook that trembling fane with its weak prayer
'Twas noon,--the sleeping skies were blue
The city...

Submitted: Thursday, April 01, 2010

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