Shelley Sunday: ‘Song’ (For ‘Tasso)

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

I loved--alas! our life is love;
But when we cease to breathe and move
I do suppose love ceases too.
I thought, but not as now I do,
Keen thoughts and bright of linked lore,                             _5
Of all that men had thought before.
And all that Nature shows, and more.

And still I love and still I think,
But strangely, for my heart can drink
The dregs of such despair, and live,                                 _10
And love;...
And if I think, my thoughts come fast,
I mix the present with the past,
And each seems uglier than the last.

Sometimes I see before me flee                                       _15
A silver spirit's form, like thee,
O Leonora, and I sit
...still watching it,
Till by the grated casement's ledge
It fades, with such a sigh, as sedge                                 _20
Breathes o'er the breezy streamlet's edge.


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