Percy Bysshe Shelley

(1792-1822 / Horsham / England)

Percy Bysshe Shelley Poems

201. The Irishman's Song 4/1/2010
202. Homer's Hymn To The Moon 4/1/2010
203. Bigotry's Victim 4/1/2010
204. When Soft Winds And Sunny Skies 4/1/2010
205. O That A Chariot Of Cloud Were Mine! 4/1/2010
206. On Leaving London For Wales 4/1/2010
207. Queen Mab: Part Iii. 4/1/2010
208. Evening: Ponte Al Mare, Pisa 4/1/2010
209. Queen Mab: Part Iv. 4/1/2010
210. Faint With Love, The Lady Of The South 4/1/2010
211. And That I Walk Thus Proudly Crowned Withal 4/1/2010
212. O Thou Immortal Deity 4/1/2010
213. War 4/1/2010
214. Wake The Serpent Not 4/1/2010
215. Homer's Hymn To The Earth: Mother Of All 4/1/2010
216. Here I Sit With My Paper… 4/1/2010
217. Song. Despair 4/1/2010
218. Music And Sweet Poetry 4/1/2010
219. Pater Omnipotens 4/1/2010
220. Hymn Of Apollo 4/1/2010
221. Lines: We Meet Not As We Parted 4/1/2010
222. Love 4/1/2010
223. Ode To Heaven 4/1/2010
224. Song. Hope 4/1/2010
225. Summer And Winter 4/1/2010
226. Lines Written In The Bay Of Lerici 1/1/2004
227. Queen Mab: Part I. 4/1/2010
228. Death In Life 4/1/2010
229. An Ode, Written October, 1819, Before The Spaniards Had Recovered Their Liberty 4/1/2010
230. Remembrance 4/1/2010
231. Love's Rose 4/1/2010
232. Another Fragment To Music 4/1/2010
233. Love, Hope, Desire, And Fear 4/1/2010
234. Beauty's Halo 4/1/2010
235. Fragment: Satan Broken Loose 4/1/2010
236. To The Queen Of My Heart 4/1/2010
237. In Horologium 4/1/2010
238. Julian And Maddalo (Excerpt) 1/1/2004
239. On A Faded Violet 4/1/2010
240. Passage Of The Apennines 4/1/2010

Comments about Percy Bysshe Shelley

  • Mohammad Muzzammil Mohammad Muzzammil (12/8/2011 5:41:00 AM)

    My most favourite poet

    45 person liked.
    48 person did not like.
  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (1/6/2009 6:24:00 AM)

    Shelley's ode to the west wind is a lyric in which the poet expresses intense emotion, this poem is also a musical thought.In the poem Shelley wishes to be the lyre of the west wind, we hear the majestic harmoney of the music of the wind as it blows through the cycle of seasons causing destruction and regeneration over and over again, I love the poem, it is one of the beautiful poem I ever read in my life.It touches my soul.

  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (1/6/2009 6:24:00 AM)

    Shelley's ode to the west wind is a lyric in which the poet expresses intense emotion, this poem is also a musical thought.In the poem Shelley wishes to be the lyre of the west wind, we hear the majestic harmoney of the music of the wind as it blows through the cycle of seasons causing destruction and regeneration over and over again, I love the poem, it is one of the beautiful poem I ever read in my life.It touches my soul.

  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (10/31/2008 8:14:00 AM)

    your poems are endowed with great romantic beauty

  • Nagamuthu Osho (9/4/2005 12:01:00 AM)

    Hail! Poet! Of Eternal Diadem!

    The words of Thee,
    Springs joy and glee;
    Will carry, and starry charm,
    Will fill my heart's chamber with ambrosial songs to warm.

    Dedicating to the Divine Soul.... P.B.Shelley.......
    N.Karthikeyan Osho

    The rare and real soul will fill and dwells, niche in the Heart, to usher and awake the Glimpse of Glory.
    Grace Adieu...
    Lord Bless you.
    Yours sincerely,
    N.Karthikeyan Osho

Best Poem of Percy Bysshe Shelley

Ozymandias

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

Bereavement

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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