The Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, with His Life Volume 1

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General Books, 2013 - 136 Seiten
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1834 edition. Excerpt: ...thy ruins then, O sacred Hellas! many weary years He wandered, till the path of Laian's glen Was grass grown--and the unremembered lean Were dry in Laian for their honoured chief, Whu fell in Kvxant, pierced by Moslem spears: --And as the lady looked with faithful grief From her high lattice o'er the rugged path, Where she once saw that horseman toil, with brief And blighting hope, who with the news of death Struck body and soul as with a mortal blight, She saw beneath the chesnuts, far beneath, An old man toiling up, a weary wight; And soon within her hospitable hall She saw his white hairs glittering in the light Of the wood fire, and round his shoulders fall; And his wan visage and his withered mien Yet calm and and raajeatical. And Athanase, her child, who must hare been Then three years old, sate opposite and gated. FRAGMENT II. Such was Zonoras; and as daylight finds An amaranth glittering on the path of frost, When autumn nights have nipt all weaker kinds, Thas had his age, dark, cold, and tempest-tost, Shone truth upon Zonoras; and he filled From fountains pure, nigh overgrown and lost, The spirit of Prince Athanase, a child, With soul-sustaining songs of ancient lore And philosophic wisdom, clear and mild. And sweet and suhtle talk they evermore, The pupil and the master shared; until, Sharing the undiminishable store, The youth, as shadows on a grassy hill Outrun the winds that chase them, soon outran His teacher, and did teach with native skill Strange truths and new to that experienced man; Still they were friends, as few have ever been Who mark th' extremes of life's discordant spaa. And in the caverns of the forest green, Or by the rocks of echoing ocean hoar, Zonoras and PrinceAthanase were seen By Bummer woodmen; and when..

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Über den Autor (2013)

Born in Field Place, near Horsham in Sussex, Shelley was educated at Syon House Academy and Eton, where he acquired the sobriquet "Mad Shelley" for his independent spirit. While at Eton he published Zastrozzi (1810), a Gothic novel. Expelled from Oxford because he refused to retract his atheistic beliefs, Shelley quarreled with his wealthy father and was banished from home. Shelley married impulsively and then abandoned his young wife to run off to Italy with the 16-year-old Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin (the daughter of the radical feminist and the anarchist philosopher, who was eventually to write Frankenstein). While in Italy, Shelley became close friends with Byron, and the two became objects of endless, notorious rumor. Shelley's personal character was revered by almost everyone who knew him. Extremely generous toward others, frugal with himself, he strove tirelessly for the betterment of humanity. Prometheus Unbound (1820), a lyrical drama in four acts, calls for the regeneration of society through love and for the destruction of all repressive institutions. The Cenci (1819), a verse drama based on real events, is one of the few plays from the romantic period still produced. Shelley's lyrics are marvelously varied and rich in sound and rhythm. Wordsworth regarded him as the best artist among living poets.Adonais (1821), written to honor the memory of John Keats, is one of the supreme elegies in English.The Triumph of Life, which was left incomplete at his death, has been hailed by T. S. Eliot as the nearest approach in English to Dante (see Vol. 2). The "Ode to the West Wind" and "To a Skylark" are anthologized everywhere. Shelley's early death by drowning ended his career just as it was coming into full flower. A revolutionary in his art and life, Shelley is considered by many to be an inspired polemicist and poetic genius. As one of his contemporaries wrote in Etonian (1821), "He is one of the many whom we cannot read without wonder, or without pain. . . .

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