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1792–1822

A BRIDAL SONG.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

The golden gates of Sleep unbar Where Strength and Beauty, met together, Kindle their image like a star In a sea of glassy weather!

Night, with all thy stars look down,— Darkness, weep thy holiest dew,— Never smiled the inconstant moon On a pair so true.

Let eyes not see their own delight;— Haste, swift Hour, and thy flight Oft renew. Fairies, sprites, and angels, keep her!

Holy stars, permit no wrong! And return to wake the sleeper, Dawn,— ere it be long! O joy! O fear! what will be done

In the absence of the sun! Come along!

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A BRIDAL SONG. · Percy Bysshe Shelley · Poetry Cove