I.
In the cave which wild weeds cover
Wait for thine aethereal lover;
For the pallid moon is waning,
O'er the spiral cypress hanging
And the moon no cloud is staining.
II.
It was once a Roman’s chamber,
Where he kept his darkest revels,
And the wild weeds twine and clamber;
It was then a chasm for devils.
More verses by Percy Bysshe Shelley
- Hymn Of Pan
- Song Of Proserpine While Gathering Flowers On The Plain Of Enna
- A Tale Of Society As It Is: From Facts, 1811
- Invocation
- A Hate-Song