Music, When Soft Voices Die

by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822) Love

Vibrates in the memory—
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heap’d for the beloved’s bed;
And so thy thoughts when thou are gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

More poems by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Osymandias

Osymandias.
Ein Wandrer kam aus einem alten Land,
Und sprach: Ein riesig Trümmerbild von Stein …
Ode to the West Wind

O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being
Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, …
To a Skylark

hail to thee, blithe spirit!
Bird thou never wert—
That from heaven or near it …
The Cloud

I Bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid …