Percy Bysshe Shelley Quotes About Flowers

Quotes about: Flowers

• January gray is here, like a sexton by her grave; February bears the bier, march with grief doth howl and rave, and April weeps -- but, O ye hours! Follow with May's fairest flowers.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Time, Grief, Flower

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (Illustrated)”, p.500, Delphi Classics

• See the mountains kiss high Heaven And the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea - What is all this sweet work worth If thou kiss not me?

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Sweet, Brother, Flower

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (2012). “Ode to the West Wind and Other Poems”, p.39, Courier Corporation

• And Spring arose on the garden fair,
  Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
  And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
  rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Inspirational, Dream, Nature

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (Illustrated)”, p.416, Delphi Classics

• Poetry Love's Philosophy The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle— Why not I with thine? See the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdain'd its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea— What are all these kissings worth, If thou kiss not me?

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Wedding, Sweet, Brother

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (1877). “Favorite Poems”, p.45

• The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the Year On the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying. . . .

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Lying, Flower, Years

  Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Percy Bysshe Shelley, John Keats (1829). “The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume”

• And the rose like a nymph to the bath addrest,
  Which unveiled the depth of her glowing breast,
  Till, fold after fold, to the fainting air,
  The soul of her beauty and love lay bare.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Flower, Air, Glowing

  'The Sensitive Plant' (1820) pt. 1, l. 29

• When you can discover where the fresh colors of the faded flower abide, or the music of the broken lyre, seek life among the dead. Such are the anxious and fearful contemplations of the common observer, though the popular religion often prevents him from confessing them even to himself.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Flower, Color, Broken

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (Illustrated)”, p.1814, Delphi Classics

• Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lull'd by the coil of his crystalline streams Beside a pumice isle in Baiæ's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Summer, Dream, Sweet

  'Ode to the West Wind' (1819) l. 29

• Sounds of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain awaken'd flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Rain, Flower, Sound

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (1832). “The Beauties of Percy Bysshe Shelley ... Third Edition”, p.218

• For the Sensitive Plant has no bright flower; Radiance and odour are not its dower; It loves, even like Love, its deep heart is full, It desires what it has not, the beautiful.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Beautiful, Flower, Heart

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (1847). “The works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, ed. by mrs. Shelley”, p.254

• I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Dream, Flower, Clouds

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (Illustrated)”, p.432, Delphi Classics

• It were as wise to cast a violet into a crucible that you might discover the formal principle of its color and odor, as seek to transfuse from one language into another the creations of a poet. The plant must spring again from its seed, or it will bear no flower -- and this is the burthen of the curse of Babel.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Wise, Spring, Flower

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (1852). “A defence of poetry. Essay on the literature, arts, and manners of the Athenians. Preface to the Banquet of Plato. The banquet”, p.10

• Like a glowworm golden, in a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden its aerial blue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Flower, Blue, Views

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (1901). “The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley”

• Age cannot Love destroy, But perfidy can blast the flower, Even when in most unwary hour It blooms in Fancy's bower. Age cannot Love destroy, But perfidy can rend the shrine In which its vermeil splendours shine.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Flower, Shining, Age

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (2004). “The Complete Poetry of Percy Bysshe Shelley”, p.221, JHU Press

• The awful shadow of some unseen Power Floats though unseen among us; visiting This various world with as inconstant wing As summer winds that creep from flower to flower; Like moonbeams that behind some piny mountain shower, It visits with inconstant glance Each human heart and countenance; Like hues and harmonies of evening, Like clouds in starlight widely spread, Like memory of music fled, Like aught that for its grace may be Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Summer, Memories, Flower

  'Hymn to Intellectual Beauty' (1816)

• I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Mother, Dream, Sweet

  1819 'The Cloud'.

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