Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

* * *

I faint, I perish with my love! I grow
Frail as a cloud whose [splendours] pale
Under the evening's ever-changing glow:
I die like mist upon the gale,
And like a wave under the calm I fail.

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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