Lift not the painted veil which those who live <br />Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there, <br />And it but mimic all we would believe <br />With colours idly spread,-behind, lurk Fear <br />And Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weave <br />Their shadows, o'er the chasm, sightless and drear. <br />I knew one who had lifted it-he sought, <br />For his lost heart was tender, things to love, <br />But found them not, alas! nor was there aught <br />The world contains, the which he could approve. <br />Through the unheeding many he did move, <br />A splendour among shadows, a bright blot <br />Upon this gloomy scene, a Spirit that strove <br />For truth, and like the Preacher found it not.<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-lift-not-the-painted-veil-which-those-who-live/
