Percy Bysshe Shelley

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A TALE UNTOLD


One sung of thee who left the tale untold,
Like the false dawns which perish in the bursting;
Like empty cups of wrought and daedal gold,
Which mock the lips with air, when they are thirsting.

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Dedication

Glory and loveliness have passed away;
For if we wander out in the early morn;
No wreathed incense do we see upbone;
Into the east, to meet the smiling day:
No crowd of nymphs sopht voiced, and young and gay,
In wowen baskets bringing ears of corn,
Roses,and pinks, and violets, to adorn
The shrine of Flora in her early may.
But there are left delights as high as theese,
And i shall ever bless my destiny,
That in a time, under pleasant trees
Pan is no longer sought, I fell a free,
A leafy luxury, seeing i could please
With this poor offerings, a man like thee.

Jhon Keats

Ime Percy Bysshe Shelly uvek privuce moju Keatsovsku paznju.... tako da uzvracam mozda i najsnaznijim stihovima ovog dobrog duha....