“Thy words are like a cloud of winged snakes;
And yet I pity those they torture not.”

— Percy Bysshe Shelley , Prometheus Unbound

Prometheus, Act I, l. 632
Prometheus Unbound (1818–1819; publ. 1820)

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Percy Bysshe Shelley 246

English Romantic poet 1792–1822

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“Let me set my mournful ditty
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Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822) English Romantic poet

St. 4
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“Yes, social friend, I love thee well,
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“Though fancy and the might of rhyme,
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“Oh Genius! fling aside thy starry crown,
Close up thy rainbow wings, and on thy head
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