PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know;
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, a* I am listening now.
6 1 6 The Moon
��A^D, like a dying lady lean and pale, Who totter* forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil, Out of her chamber, led by the insane And feeble wanderings of her fading brain, The moon arose up in the murky cast A white and shapeless mass.
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Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth, And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy?
61 7 Ode to the West Wind
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OW1LD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Arc driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes' O thou Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
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