Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

On Fanny Godwin

Her voice did quiver as we parted,
Yet knew I not that heart was broken
From which it came, and I departed
Heeding not the words then spoken.
Misery--O Misery,
This world is all too wide for thee. 

1. The Fitful Alternations of the Rain
2. Wine Of The Fairies
3. From the Arabic, an Imitation
4. I Would Not Be A King
5. Bereavement

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