Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

* * *

The fitful alternations of the rain,
When the chill wind, languid as with pain
Of its own heavy moisture, here and there
Drives through the gray and beamless atmosphere. 

1. Matilda Gathering Flowers
2. The Solitary
3. From the Arabic, an Imitation
4. To The Republicans Of North America
5. I Would Not Be A King

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