PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.
Many a weary night and day
'Tis since thou art fled away.
II.
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at pain.
Spirit false! thou hast forgot
All but those who need thee not.
III.
Of a trembling leaf,
Thou with sorrow art dismayed;
Even the sighs of grief
Reproach thee, that thou art not near,
And reproach thou wilt not hear
IV.
To a merry measure,
Thou wilt never come for pity,
Thou wilt come for pleasure.
Pity then will cut away
Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.
V.
Spirit of Delight!
The fresh Earth in new leaves drest,
And the starry night;
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