A gentle story of two lovers young,
Who met in innocence and died in sorrow,
And of one selfish heart, whose rancour clung
Like curses on them; are ye slow to borrow
The lore of truth from such a tale?
Or in this world’s deserted vale,
Do ye not see a star of gladness
Pierce the shadows of its sadness,--
When ye are cold, that love is a light sent
From Heaven, which none shall quench, to cheer the innocent?
More verses by Percy Bysshe Shelley
- Fragment Of The Elegy On The Death Of Bion
- Epipsychidion: Passages Of The Poem, Or Connected Therewith
- The Isle
- The Cyclops
- Fragment: Such Hope, As Is The Sick Despair Of Good