Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The Vine-shroud

Flourishing vine, whose kindling clusters glow
Beneath the autumnal sun, none taste of thee;
For thou dost shroud a ruin, and below
The rotting bones of dead antiquity.

1. Wine Of The Fairies
2. Homer's Hymn to Minerva
3. The Fitful Alternations of the Rain
4. To Mary
5. I Would Not Be A King

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