Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes247 of 373 |
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A pardlike Spirit beautiful and swift A Love in desolation masked; a Power Girt round with weakness; it can scarce uplift The weight of the superincumbent hour; It is a dying lamp, a falling shower, A breaking billow; even whilst we speak Is it not broken? On the withering flower The killing sun smiles brightly: on a cheek The life can burn in blood, even while the heart may break.
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