From the Greek of Plato.
Kissing Helena, together
With my kiss, my soul beside it
Came to my lips, and there I kept it,--
For the poor thing had wandered thither,
To follow where the kiss should guide it,
Oh, cruel I, to intercept it!
More verses by Percy Bysshe Shelley
- Fragment: What Men Gain Fairly
- Song. To -- [harriet]
- Song. Cold, Cold Is The Blast When December Is Howling
- Epigram Iv: Circumstance
- I Stood Upon A Heaven-Cleaving Turret