Awakening Trance



    Ah woe is me! Winter is come and gone,
        But grief returns with the revolving year.
    The airs and streams renew their joyous tone;
        The ants, the bees, the swallows, re-appear;
        Fresh leaves and flowers deck the dead Season's bier;
    The amorous birds now pair in every brake,
        And build their mossy homes in field and brere;
    And the green lizard and the golden snake,
Like unimpresoned flames, out of their trance awake.

-Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822),
Adonais







images © 2000 by Randy Wang
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