In truth or fable consecrates, he felt
And knew. When early youth had past, he left
His cold fireside and alienated home
To seek strange truths in undiscovered lands.
Many a wide waste and tangled wilderness
Has lured his fearless steps; and he has bought
With his sweet voice and eyes, from savage men,
His rest and food. Nature's most secret steps
-Percy Bysshe Shelley,
The Spirit of Solitude, 1816
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Blaze on Water
(Acadia)
And the Sun's image radiantly intense "Burned on the waters of the well that glowed Like gold, and threaded all the forest maze With winding paths of emerald fire--there stood "Amid the sun, as he amid the blaze Of his own glory, ... -Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Triumph of Life, 1824 |
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Spirit of Woods
(Acadia)
Ere from the mutilated bower I turned Exulting, rich beyond the wealth of kings, I felt a sense of pain when I beheld The silent trees, and saw the intruding sky.-- Then, dearest Maiden, move along these shades In gentleness of heart; with gentle hand Touch--for there is a spirit in the woods. -William Wordsworth, Nutting, 1800 |
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Twilight over the Poet's Path
(Acadia)
The meeting boughs and implicated leaves Wove twilight o'er the Poet's path, as led By love, or dream, or god, or mightier Death, He sought in Nature's dearest haunt, some bank Her cradle, and his sepulchre... -Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Spirit of Solitude, 1816 |
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Secret Steps
(Acadia)
In truth or fable consecrates, he felt And knew. When early youth had past, he left His cold fireside and alienated home To seek strange truths in undiscovered lands. Many a wide waste and tangled wilderness Has lured his fearless steps; and he has bought With his sweet voice and eyes, from savage men, His rest and food. Nature's most secret steps -Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Spirit of Solitude, 1816 |
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Lure
(Lassen)
To seek strange truths in undiscovered lands. Many a wide waste and tangled wilderness Has lured his fearless steps; and he has bought With his sweet voice and eyes, from savage men, His rest and food. Nature's most secret steps He like her shadow has pursued, where'er The red volcano overcanopies Its fields of snow and pinnacles of ice -Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Spirit of Solitude, 1816 |