John Bartlett (18201905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
Page 567
Percy Bysshe Shelley. (17921822) (continued)
5865 A lovely lady, garmented in light From her own beauty.
The Witch of Atlas. Stanza 5.
5866 Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken.
Music, when soft Voices die.
5867 I love tranquil solitude And such society As is quiet, wise, and good.
Rarely, rarely comest Thou.
5868 Sing again, with your dear voice revealing A tone Of some world far from ours, Where music and moonlight and feeling Are one.
To Jane. The keen Stars were twinkling.
5869 The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow.
One Word is too often profaned.
5870 You lieunder a mistake, 1 For this is the most civil sort of lie That can be given to a mans face. I now Say what I think.
Translation of Calderons Magico Prodigioso. Scene i.
5871 How wonderful is Death! Death and his brother Sleep.
Queen Mab. i.
5872 Power, like a desolating pestilence, Pollutes whateer it touches; and obedience, Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth, Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame A mechanized automaton.
Queen Mab. iii.