Percy Bysshe Shelley

(1792-1822 / Horsham / England)

Percy Bysshe Shelley Poems

121. Invocation 1/3/2003
122. Invocation To Misery 4/1/2010
123. Julian And Maddalo (Excerpt) 1/1/2004
124. Letter To Maria Gisborne 4/1/2010
125. Liberty 4/1/2010
126. Life Rounded With Sleep 4/1/2010
127. Lift Not The Painted Veil Which Those Who Live 1/13/2003
128. Lines 1/4/2003
129. Lines -- Far, Far Away, O Ye 4/1/2010
130. Lines To A Critic 4/1/2010
131. Lines To A Reviewer 4/1/2010
132. Lines Written Among The Euganean Hills 1/13/2003
133. Lines Written During The Castlereagh Administration 4/1/2010
134. Lines Written In The Bay Of Lerici 1/1/2004
135. Lines Written On Hearing The News Of The Death Of Napoleon 4/1/2010
136. Lines: That Time Is Dead For Ever, Child! 4/1/2010
137. Lines: The Cold Earth Slept Below 1/1/2004
138. Lines: We Meet Not As We Parted 4/1/2010
139. Love 4/1/2010
140. Love, Hope, Desire, And Fear 4/1/2010
141. Love's Philosophy 12/31/2002
142. Love's Rose 4/1/2010
143. Marenghi 4/1/2010
144. Marianne's Dream 4/1/2010
145. Matilda Gathering Flowers 4/1/2010
146. May The Limner 4/1/2010
147. Melody To A Scene Of Former Times 4/1/2010
148. Methought I Was A Billow In The Crowd 4/1/2010
149. Mighty Eagle 4/1/2010
150. Mont Blanc: Lines Written In The Vale Of Chamouni 1/1/2004
151. Music And Sweet Poetry 4/1/2010
152. Music, When Soft Voices Die 1/3/2003
153. Mutability 12/31/2002
154. Mutability - Ii. 4/1/2010
155. Night 1/4/2003
156. O That A Chariot Of Cloud Were Mine! 4/1/2010
157. O Thou Immortal Deity 4/1/2010
158. Ode To Heaven 4/1/2010
159. Ode To Liberty 4/1/2010
160. Ode To Naples 5/8/2011
Best Poem of Percy Bysshe Shelley


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
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!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal ...

Read the full of Ozymandias


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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