The Waning Moon

Percy Bysshe Shelley

And like a dying lady, lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapped in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky east,
A white and shapeless mass.

Next 10 Poems

• Percy Bysshe Shelley : The Witch Of Atlas
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : Time
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : Time Long Past
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : To (1)
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : To (2)
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : To A Lady, With A Guitar
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : To A Skylark
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : To Coleridge
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : To Jane
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : To Night

Previous 10 Poems

• Percy Bysshe Shelley : The Two Spirits: An Allegory
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : The Triumph Of Life
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : The Question
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : The Invitation
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : The Indian Serenade
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : The Fitful Alternations Of The Rain
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : The Cloud
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : Stanzas Written In Dejection Near Naples
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : Song: Rarely, Rarely, Comest Thou
• Percy Bysshe Shelley : Song Of Proserpine