Archived Love Poems

 

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory---
Odors, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

.....To-- by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

 
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Short Love Poems

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Friday, 24-Nov-2017 03:56:55 GMT