haiku stringlengths 5 2.3k | source stringlengths 1 74 |
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'taught them not this to know themselves their might
could not repress the mystery within
and for the morn of truth they feigned deep night | img2poems |
'without the opportunity which bore
him on its eagle pinions to the peak
from which a thousand climbers have before | img2poems |
that every pigmy kicked it as it lay
and much i grieved to think how power and will
in opposition rule our mortal day | img2poems |
'frederick and paul catherine and leopold
and hoary anarchs demagogues and sage
names which the world thinks always old | img2poems |
'and life where long that flower of heaven grew not
conquered that heart by love which gold or pain
or age or sloth or slavery could subdue not | img2poems |
'the other long outlived both woes and wars
throned in the thoughts of men and still had kept
the jealous key of truth's eternal doors | img2poems |
had founded many a sceptre-bearing line
and spread the plague of gold and blood abroad
and gregory and john and men divine | img2poems |
for the true sun it quenched 'their power was given
but to destroy ' replied the leader: 'i
am one of those who have created even | img2poems |
'and how and by what paths i have been brought
to this dread pass methinks even thou mayst guess
why this should be my mind can compass not | img2poems |
'bent the soft grass and kept for ever wet
the stems of the sweet flowers and filled the grove
with sounds which whoso hears must needs forget | img2poems |
'her only child who died upon the breast
at eventide a king would mourn no more
the crown of which his brows were dispossessed | img2poems |
'so sweet and deep is the oblivious spell
and whether life had been before that sleep
the heaven which i imagine or a hell | img2poems |
though it was now broad day a gentle trace
of light diviner than the common sun
sheds on the common earth and all the place | img2poems |
'burned on the waters of the well that glowed
like gold and threaded all the forest's maze
with winding paths of emerald fire there stood | img2poems |
'a shape all light which with one hand did fling
dew on the earth as if she were the dawn
and the invisible rain did ever sing | img2poems |
'of the deep cavern and with palms so tender
their tread broke not the mirror of its billow
glided along the river and did bend her | img2poems |
'as one enamoured is upborne in dream
o'er lily-paven lakes mid silver mist
to wondrous music so this shape might seem | img2poems |
'of leaves and winds and waves and birds and bees
and falling drops moved in a measure new
yet sweet as on the summer evening breeze | img2poems |
'and still her feet no less than the sweet tune
to which they moved seemed as they moved to blot
the thoughts of him who gazed on them and soon | img2poems |
'of darkness re-illumine even the least
of heaven's living eyes like day she came
making the night a dream and ere she ceased | img2poems |
'into this valley of perpetual dream
show whence i came and where i am and why
pass not away upon the passing stream | img2poems |
'where the first wave had more than half erased
the track of deer on desert labrador
whilst the wolf from which they fled amazed | img2poems |
'and the fair shape waned in the coming light
as veil by veil the silent splendour drops
from lucifer amid the chrysolite | img2poems |
'or the soft note in which his dear lament
the brescian shepherd breathes or the caress
that turned his weary slumber to content | img2poems |
'more dimly than a day-appearing dream
the host of a forgotten form of sleep
a light of heaven whose half-extinguished beam | img2poems |
'the forest and as if from some dread war
triumphantly returning the loud million
fiercely extolled the fortune of her star | img2poems |
'and underneath aethereal glory clad
the wilderness and far before her flew
the tempest of the splendour which forbade | img2poems |
'others stood gazing till within the shade
of the great mountain its light left them dim
others outspeeded it and others made | img2poems |
'the chariot and the captives fettered there
but all like bubbles on an eddying flood
fell into the same track at last and were | img2poems |
'the thickest billows of that living storm
i plunged and bared my bosom to the clime
of that cold light whose airs too soon deform | img2poems |
'of him who from the lowest depths of hell
through every paradise and through all glory
love led serene and who returned to tell | img2poems |
'grew dense with shadows to its inmost covers
the earth was gray with phantoms and the air
was peopled with dim forms as when there hovers | img2poems |
'phantoms diffused around and some did fling
shadows of shadows yet unlike themselves
behind them some like eaglets on the wing | img2poems |
'of kingly mantles some across the tiar
of pontiffs sate like vultures others played
under the crown which girt with empire | img2poems |
'of daemon wings and laughed from their dead eyes
to reassume the delegated power
arrayed in which those worms did monarchize | img2poems |
'and others like discoloured flakes of snow
on fairest bosoms and the sunniest hair
fell and were melted by the youthful glow | img2poems |
'of her last cub glared ere it died each one
of that great crowd sent forth incessantly
these shadows numerous as the dead leaves blown | img2poems |
'obscure clouds moulded by the casual air
and of this stuff the car's creative ray
wrought all the busy phantoms that were there | img2poems |
'and fell as i have fallen by the wayside
those soonest from whose forms most shadows passed
and least of strength and beauty did abide | img2poems |
out of the eastern shadow of the earth
amid the clouds upon its margin gray
scattered by night to swathe in its bright birth | img2poems |
there is no work nor device nor knowledge nor wisdom
in the grave whither thou goest
ecclesiastes | img2poems |
notes
_ of in
_ moonlight mountain | img2poems |
dear home thou scene of earliest hopes and joys
the least of which wronged memory ever makes
bitterer than all thine unremembered tears | img2poems |
my spirit like a charmed bark doth swim
upon the liquid waves of thy sweet singing
far far away into the regions dim | img2poems |
no music thou art not the 'food of love
unless love feeds upon its own sweet self
till it becomes all music murmurs of | img2poems |
thy country's curse is on thee darkest crest
of that foul knotted many-headed worm
which rends our mother's bosom priestly pest | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley among the poems of in poetical
works st edition | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley with the date 'november th ' in
posthumous poems | img2poems |
[published by hunt in the liberal no
reprinted in
posthumous poems where it is dated december | img2poems |
pigna
did you inform his grace that signor pigna
waits with state papers for his signature | img2poems |
malpiglio
would they were parching lightnings for his sake
on whom they fell | img2poems |
notes
_ might boscombe manuscript medwin light
_ the | img2poems |
or as the moonlight fills the open sky
struggling with darkness as a tuberose
peoples some indian dell with scents which lie | img2poems |
heard her within their slumbers the abyss
of heaven with all its planets the dull ear
of the night-cradled earth the loneliness | img2poems |
and every beast stretched in its rugged cave
and every bird lulled on its mossy bough
and every silver moth fresh from the grave | img2poems |
of sound shook forth the dull oblivion
out of their dreams harmony became love
in every soul but one | img2poems |
with jagged leaves and from the forest tops
singing the winds to sleep or weeping oft
fast showers of aereal water-drops | img2poems |
they spread themselves into the loveliness
of fan-like leaves and over pallid flowers
hang like moist clouds: or where high branches kiss | img2poems |
odours and gleams and murmurs which the lute
of the blind pilot-spirit of the blast
stirs as it sails now grave and now acute | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley posthumous poems
our text is that of the poetical works | img2poems |
drear
the shadows which the world calls substance there
_ who had lifted who lifted | img2poems |
o mighty mind in whose deep stream this age
shakes like a reed in the unheeding storm
why dost thou curb not thine own sacred rage | img2poems |
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 | img2poems |
the winged seeds where they lie cold and low
each like a corpse within its grave until
thine azure sister of the spring shall blow | img2poems |
beside a pumice isle in baiae's bay
and saw in sleep old palaces and towers
quivering within the wave's intenser day | img2poems |
[published with prometheus unbound dated 'pisa april
in harvard manuscript but assigned by mrs
shelley to | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley posthumous poems
the fragment included in the harvard manuscript book | img2poems |
love is the universe to-day
these are the slaves of dim to-morrow
darkening life's labyrinthine way | img2poems |
[published by h
buxton forman the mask of anarchy (facsimile of
shelley's manuscript | img2poems |
a sensitive plant in a garden grew
and the young winds fed it with silver dew
and it opened its fan-like leaves to the light | img2poems |
yet freedom yet thy banner torn but flying
streams like a thunder-storm against the wind
byron | img2poems |
notes
_ old lost b
_ black blue b | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley posthumous poems by w
m | img2poems |
amid the desolation of a city
which was the cradle and is now the grave
of an extinguished people so that pity | img2poems |
for bread and gold and blood: pain linked to guilt
agitates the light flame of their hours
until its vital oil is spent or spilt | img2poems |
and are withdrawn so that the world is bare
as if a spectre wrapped in shapeless terror
amid a company of ladies fair | img2poems |
[published by leigh hunt the literary pocket-book there is a
transcript amongst the ollier manuscripts and another in the harvard
manuscript book | img2poems |
[published by leigh hunt the literary pocket-book these
lines and the sonnet immediately preceding are signed sigma in the
literary pocket-book | img2poems |
[published by medwin the angler in wales or days and nights of
sportsmen the text is revised by rossetti from the boscombe
manuscript | img2poems |
'buona notte buona notte
' come mai
la notte sara buona senza te | img2poems |
notes
_ _ _ only
_-_ ah no | img2poems |
hours
fiordispina said and threw the flowers
which she had from the breathing | img2poems |
i went into the deserts of dim sleep
that world which like an unknown wilderness
bounds this with its recesses wide and deep | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley posthumous poems and dated
january | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley posthumous poems
there is a transcript in the harvard manuscript book | img2poems |
send the stars light but send not love to me
in whom love ever made
health like a heap of embers soon to fade | img2poems |
notes
_ and though]though editions
_ clung]cling editions | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley posthumous poems
there is a fair draft amongst the boscombe manuscripts | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley posthumous poems
there is a boscombe manuscript | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley posthumous poems
there is a draft amongst the boscombe manuscripts | img2poems |
notes
_ summer nd edition silent st edition
_ cinereous boscombe manuscript enormous editions | img2poems |
the babe is at peace within the womb
the corpse is at rest within the tomb
we begin in what we end | img2poems |
does not appear to me more inexplicably framed than that of one who can
dissect and probe past woes and repeat to the public ear the groans
drawn from them in the throes of their agony | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley posthumous poems and dated
'january ' there is a copy amongst the boscombe manuscripts | img2poems |
[published by mrs
shelley posthumous poems
there is a copy amongst the trelawny manuscripts | img2poems |
[published by medwin the athenaeum october frazer's
magazine january there is a copy amongst the trelawny
manuscripts | img2poems |
_ your dear nd edition thy sweet st edition
thy soft fred
manuscript | img2poems |
[published from the boscombe manuscripts by dr
garnett macmillan's
magazine june reprinted relics of shelley | img2poems |
by spirits of the deep
thou'rt cradled on the billow
to thy eternal sleep | img2poems |
when shelley was on board he had his papers with him and much of the
triumph of life was written as he sailed or weltered on that sea
which was soon to engulf him | img2poems |
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