WHEN the lamp is shatter'd, <br />The light in the dust lies dead; <br /> When the cloud is scatter'd, <br />The rainbow's glory is shed; <br /> When the lute is broken, <br />Sweet tones are remember'd not <br /> When the lips have spoken, <br />Loved accents are soon forgot. <br /> <br /> As music and splendour <br />Survive not the lamp and the lute, <br /> The heart's echoes render <br />No song when the spirit is mute-- <br /> No song but sad dirges, <br />Like the wind through a ruin'd cell, <br /> Or the mournful surges <br />That ring the dead seaman's knell. <br /> <br /> When hearts have once mingled, <br />Love first leaves the well-built nest; <br /> The weak one is singled <br />To endure what it once possest. <br /> O Love, who bewailest <br />The frailty of all things here, <br /> Why choose you the frailest <br />For your cradle, your home, and your bier? <br /> <br /> Its passions will rock thee, <br />As the storms rock the ravens on high: <br /> Bright reason will mock thee, <br />Like the sun from a wintry sky. <br /> From thy nest every rafter <br />Will rot, and thine eagle home <br /> Leave thee naked to laughter, <br />When leaves fall and cold winds come.<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-2/
