Verse > Anthologies > Robert Bridges, ed. > The Spirit of Man: An Anthology

Robert Bridges, ed. (1844–1930).  The Spirit of Man: An Anthology.  1916.
Prometheus, iii. 3, 108

Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822)
  Oh, mother! wherefore speak the name of death?
Cease they to love, and move, and breathe, and speak,
Who die?
  It would avail not to reply:
Thou art immortal, and this tongue is known        5
But to the uncommunicating dead.
Death is the veil which those who live call life:
They sleep, and it is lifted: and meanwhile
In mild variety the seasons mild
With rainbow-skirted showers, and odorous winds,        10
And long blue meteors cleansing the dull night,
And the life-kindling shafts of the keen sun’s
All-piercing bow, and the dew-mingled rain
Of the calm moonbeams, a soft influence mild,
Shall clothe the forests and the fields, ay, even        15
The crag-built deserts of the barren deep,
With ever-living leaves, and fruits, and flowers …
Note 1. Shelley. ‘Prometheus’, iii. 3, 108. [back]

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