Percy Bysshe Shelley

Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books read more

Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skilled to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!

Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Stains the white radiance of eternity.

Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Stains the white radiance of eternity.

. . . then black despair
The shadow of a starless night, was thrown
Over the world read more

. . . then black despair
The shadow of a starless night, was thrown
Over the world in which I moved alone.

Hail to thee blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
read more

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.

And many an ante-natal tomb
When butterflies dream of the life to come.

And many an ante-natal tomb
When butterflies dream of the life to come.