Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
this is so sad and nostalgic! i love the way he closed it: 'love itself shall slumber on.'.
I read this poem when I was a college student. Like love at first sight this poem made a place in my heart and and soul. Yes, I love this poem. I have no reasons for this love, but I shall continue loving this poem. It is my teen aged love.
Omg this inspired me to write poems and now I have a passion for music spring and nature
everything leaves a footprint, whether it's physical or spiritual it does not matter.
One word encapsulates the feeling within this lovely poem - BEAUTIFUL
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I've loved this 8-line verse by Shelley ever since I first read it in my school days. What an ending! PBS lives on in our hearts.