Song From The Wandering Jew.

A poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

See yon opening flower
Spreads its fragrance to the blast;
It fades within an hour,
Its decay is pale - is fast.
Paler is yon maiden;
Faster is her heart's decay;
Deep with sorrow laden,
She sinks in death away.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Song From The Wandering Jew.' by Percy Bysshe Shelley

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy