And like a dying lady, lean and pale,
Out of her chamber, led by the insaneAnd feeble wanderings of her fading brain,The moon arose up in the murky east,A white and shapeless mass.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
There came a voice from over the Sea,And with great power it forth led meTo walk in the visions of Poesy.II.I met Murder on the way-He had a mask like Castlereagh-Very smooth he looked, yet grim;Seven blood-hounds followed him:III.All were fat; and well they mightBe in admirable plight,For one by one, and two by two,He…
THE wind has swept from the wide atmosphere
And pallid Evening twines its beaming hairIn duskier braids around the languid eyes of Day:Silence and Twilight, unbeloved of men,Creep hand in hand from yon obscurest glen.They breathe their spells towards the departing day,Encompassing the earth, air, stars, and sea;Light, sound, and motion, own the potent sway,Responding to the charm with its own mystery.The winds…
We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
Streaking the darkness radiantly!–yet soonNight closes round, and they are lost forever:Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant stringsGive various response to each varying blast,To whose frail frame no second motion bringsOne mood or modulation like the last.We rest.–A dream has power to poison sleep;We rise.–One wandering thought pollutes the day;We feel, conceive or reason, laugh…