As the sunrise to the night,
As the north wind to the clouds,
As the earthquake's fiery flight,
Ruining mountain solitudes,
Everlasting Italy,
Be those hopes and fears on thee.
More verses by Percy Bysshe Shelley
- The Rude Wind Is Singing
- The Pine Forest Of The Cascine Near Pisa
- To-- One Word Is Too Often Profaned
- To Mary ----
- To-- I Fear Thy Kisses, Gentle Maiden