708 Quotes by Percy Bysshe Shelley

And Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

Rough wind, the moanest loud Grief too sad for song; Wild wind, when sullen cloud Knells all the night long; Sad storm, whose tears are vain, Bare woods, whose branches strain, Deep caves and dreary main, Wail, for the world’s wrong!

The soul’s joy lies in doing.

Man is of soul and body, formed for deeds Of high resolve; on fancy’s boldest wing.

I have made my bed In charnels and on coffins, where black death Keeps record of the trophies won.

Hell is a city much like London A populous and smoky city.

Love’s very pain is sweet, But its reward is in the world divine Which, if not here, it builds beyond the grave.

And bid them love each other and be blest: And leave the troop which errs, and which reproves, And come and be my guest, – for I am Love’s.

The moon of Mahomet Arose, and it shall set; While, blazoned as on heaven’s immortal noon, The cross leads generations on.