Poem: The Grave Of Shelley

上海龙凤shlf最新地址Like burnt-out torches by a sick man's bed

Gaunt cypress-trees stand round the sun-bleached stone;

Here doth the little night-owl make her throne,

上海龙凤shlf最新地址And the slight lizard show his jewelled head.

上海龙凤shlf最新地址And, where the chaliced poppies flame to red,

上海龙凤shlf最新地址In the still chamber of yon pyramid

Surely some Old-World Sphinx lurks darkly hid,

上海龙凤shlf最新地址Grim warder of this pleasaunce of the dead.

上海龙凤shlf最新地址Ah! sweet indeed to rest within the womb

Of Earth, great mother of eternal sleep,

But sweeter far for thee a restless tomb

上海龙凤shlf最新地址In the blue cavern of an echoing deep,

上海龙凤shlf最新地址Or where the tall ships founder in the gloom

上海龙凤shlf最新地址Against the rocks of some wave-shattered steep.

ROME.