Rarely, rarely, comest thou, <br /> Spirit of Delight! <br /> Wherefore hast thou left me now <br /> Many a day and night? <br /> Many a weary night and day <br /> 'Tis since thou are fled away. <br /> <br /> How shall ever one like me <br /> Win thee back again? <br /> With the joyous and the free <br /> Thou wilt scoff at pain. <br /> Spirit false! thou hast forgot <br /> All but those who need thee not. <br /> <br /> As a lizard with the shade <br /> Of a trembling leaf, <br /> Thou with sorrow art dismay'd; <br /> Even the sighs of grief <br /> Reproach thee, that thou art not near, <br /> And reproach thou wilt not hear. <br /> <br /> Let me set my mournful ditty <br /> To a merry measure; <br /> Thou wilt never come for pity, <br /> Thou wilt come for pleasure; <br /> Pity then will cut away <br /> Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay. <br /> <br /> I love all that thou lovest, <br /> Spirit of Delight! <br /> The fresh Earth in new leaves dress'd, <br /> And the starry night; <br /> Autumn evening, and the morn <br /> When the golden mists are born. <br /> <br /> I love snow, and all the forms <br /> Of the radiant frost; <br /> I love waves, and winds, and storms, <br /> Everything almost <br /> Which is Nature's, and may be <br /> Untainted by man's misery. <br /> <br /> I love tranquil solitude, <br /> And such society <br /> As is quiet, wise, and good; <br /> Between thee and me <br /> What difference? but thou dost possess <br /> The things I seek, not love them less. <br /> <br /> I love Love--though he has wings, <br /> And like light can flee, <br /> But above all other things, <br /> Spirit, I love thee-- <br /> Thou art love and life! Oh come, <br /> Make once more my heart thy home.<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-rarely-rarely-comest-thou/
