24 quotes
Cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.
Adonais (1821)
I weep for Adonais — he is dead!
O, weep for Adonais! though our tears
Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!
Adonais (1821)
The intense atom glows
A moment, then is quenched in a most cold repose.
Adonais (1821)
From the great morning of the world when first
God dawned on Chaos.
Adonais (1821)
He is a portion of the loveliness
Which once he made more lovely.
Adonais (1821)
From the contagion of the world's slow stain
He is secure, and now can never mourn
A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain.
Adonais (1821)
The soul of Adonais, like a star,
Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
Adonais (1821)
Till the Future dares
Forget the Past, his fate and fame shall be
An echo and a light unto eternity!
Adonais (1821)
Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone,
But grief returns with the revolving year.
Adonais (1821)
He is made one with Nature: there is heard
His voice in all her music, from the moan
Of thunder, to the song of night's sweet bird.
Adonais (1821)
The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
Over his living head like Heaven is bent,
An early but enduring monument,
Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song
In sorrow.
Adonais (1821)
The cemetery is an open space among the ruins covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.
Adonais (1821)
To that high Capital, where kingly Death
Keeps his pale court in beauty and decay,
He came.
Adonais (1821)
As long as skies are blue, and fields are green,
Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow,
Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow.
Adonais (1821)
Most musical of mourners, weep again!
Adonais (1821)
The One remains, the many change and pass;
Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly;
Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Stains the white radiance of Eternity,
Until Death tramples it to fragments.
Adonais (1821)
He died,
Who was the Sire of an immortal strain,
Blind, old, and lonely.
Adonais (1821)
Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise!
She knew not 'twas her own; as with no stain
She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.
Adonais (1821)
He lives, he wakes — 'tis Death is dead, not he;
Mourn not for Adonais. — Thou young Dawn,
Turn all thy dew to splendour, for from thee
The spirit thou lamentest is not gone.
Adonais (1821)
What softer voice is hushed over the dead?
Athwart what brow is that dark mantle thrown?
What form leans sadly o'er the white death — bed,
In mockery of monumental stone,
The heavy heart heaving without a moan?
Adonais (1821)