Percy Bysshe Shelley

The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
Over his living head like Heaven is bent,
An early but read more

The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
Over his living head like Heaven is bent,
An early but enduring monument,
Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song
In sorrow.

Hail to thee blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
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Hail to thee blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds

Far clouds of feathery gold,
Shaded with deepest purple, gleam
Like islands on a dark blue sea.

Far clouds of feathery gold,
Shaded with deepest purple, gleam
Like islands on a dark blue sea.

It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to
open it and remove all doubt.

It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to
open it and remove all doubt.