PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.
Autumn evening, and the morn
When the golden mists are born.
VI.
Of the radiant frost;
I love waves, and winds, and storms,
Every thing almost
Which is Nature's, and may be
Untainted by man's misery.
VII.
And such society
As is quiet, wise and good;
Between thee and me
What difference? but thou dost possess
The things I seek, not love them less.
VIII.
And like light can flee,
But above all other things,
Spirit, I love thee—
Thou art love and life! O come,
Make once more my heart thy home.
70.
A Lament.
I.
On whose last steps I climb
92
