Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.
– Percy Bysshe Shelley
Percy Bysshe Shelley was one of the major English Romantic poets, and is regarded as one the finest lyric poets of the 19th century. Most of Shelley’s writings are close to his life events and reflect themes like his belief in reform, gender equality and the power of love. Critics often praised his poetry and deplored at length his atheism and unorthodox philosophy. Shelley was regarded as the prototype of the misunderstood poetic genius during the Victorian era, while serious interest in his works began to revive in the late 1930s as scholars came to recognize the complexity of his style, philosophy, and major themes. Though Shelley’s poetry and prose output remained steady throughout his life, most publishers and journals declined to publish his work for fear of being arrested themselves for blasphemy or sedition. Shelley’s popularity and influence has continued to grow in contemporary poetry circles.
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Welcome to ‘Percy Bysshe Shelley – The Lyrical Legend’ Group
Which has been your favourite Shelley poem?
Do post it on the group.
Thanks. My favorite poem of Shelley is as under
Hopes, that swell in youthful breasts,
Live not through the waste of time!
Love’s rose a host of thorns invests;
Cold, ungenial is the clime,
Where its honours blow.
Youth says, ‘The purple flowers are mine,’
Which die the while they glow.
Dear the boon to Fancy given,
Retracted whilst it’s …Read more »
Please share it with the entire group.
You can post it here http://highonpoems.com/groups/percy-bysshe-shelley-lyrical-legend/
The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In another’s being mingle–
Why not I with thine?
See, the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower could be …Read more »
Alas! This Is Not What I Thought Life Was
Alas! this is not what I thought life was.
I knew that there were crimes and evil men,
Misery and hate; nor did I hope to pass
Untouched by suffering, through the rugged glen.
In mine own heart I saw as in a glass
The hearts of others … And when
I went among my kind, with triple brass
Of calm endurance my …Read more »
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within …Read more »
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