Silver key of the fountain of tears,
Where the spirit drinks till the brain is wild;
Softest grave of a thousand fears,
Where their mother, Care, like a drowsy child,
Is laid asleep in flowers.
More verses by Percy Bysshe Shelley
- A Summer Evening Churchyard, Lechlade, Gloucestershire
- Fragment: "To The Moon"
- Autumn: A Dirge
- Art Thou Pale For Weariness
- A Dirge