Selected Poetry and Prose. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Selected Poetry and Prose - Percy Bysshe Shelley


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To the Men of England

       Sonnet: From the Italian of Dante

       Sonnet: (‘Lift not the painted veil’)

       Sonnet: On launching some bottles filled with Knowledge into the Bristol Channel

       Sonnet: Political Greatness

       Sonnet: To a balloon, laden with Knowledge

       Sonnet: To Byron

       Sonnet: (‘Ye hasten to the grave!’)

       Stanzas.—April, 1814.

       Stanzas Written in Dejection, near Naples

       The Aziola

       The Cenci

       The Cloud

       The Flower That Smiles Today

       The Fugitives

       The Indian Girl’s Song

       The Irishman’s Song

       The Magnetic lady to her patient

       The Mask of Anarchy

       The Revolt of Islam

       The Serpent Is Shut Out From Paradise

       The Sensitive Plant

       The Triumph of Life

       The Two Spirits—An Allegory

       The Witch of Atlas

       The World’s Wanderers

       Time Long Past

       To — (‘Music, when soft voices die’)

       To — (‘One word if too often profaned’)

       To — (‘When Passion’s Trance Is Overpast’)

       To a Skylark

       To Coleridge

       To Constantia

       To Jane: The Invitation

       To Jane : (‘The keen stars were twinkling’)

       To Jane. The Recollection

       To Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin

       To Night

       To the Lord Chancellor

       To the Moon

       To the Republicans of North America

       To Wordsworth

       To — (‘When Passion’s Trance Is Overpast’)

       Verses on a Cat

       With A Guitar, To Jane

       PROSE

       A Defence of Poetry

       An Address to the People on the Death of Princess Charlotte

       Essay On Christianity

       On Life

       On Love

       On the Devil, and Devils

       The Coliseum

      POETRY

      A DIRGE

      Rough wind, that moanest loud

      Grief too sad for song;

      Wild wind, when sullen cloud

      Knells all the night long;

      Sad storm whose tears are vain,

      Bare woods, whose branches strain,

      Deep caves and dreary main,—

      Wail, for the world’s wrong!

      A NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM

      I

      God prosper,


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