Poem

HYMN TO THE SPIRIT IF NARURE
PERCY BUSSHE SHELLY

Life of Life! Thy lips enkindle
With their love the breath between them;
And thy smiles before they dwindle
Make the cold air fire;
Then screen tehm
In those looks where whoso gazes
Faints, entangled in their mazes.

Child of Light! Thy limbs are burning
Through the vest which seems to hide them,
As the radiant lines of morning
Through the clouds are they divide them;
And this atmosphere divenest
Shrouds thee wheresoe’er thou shiniest,


Fair are others; none beholds thee;
But thy voce sounds low and tender
Like the fairest, for it folds thee
From the sight, that liquid splendor,
And all feel, yet seethe never,-
As I feel now lost for ever!

Lamp of Earth! Where’er thou movest
Its dim shapes are clad with brightness.
And the souls of whom thou lovest
Walk upon the winds with lightness
Till they fail, as I am failing,
Dizzy, lost, yet unbewailing!