Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

To Constantia

1.

The rose that drinks the fountain dew
In the pleasant air of noon,
Grows pale and blue with altered hue--
In the gaze of the nightly moon;
For the planet of frost, so cold and bright,
Makes it wan with her borrowed light.

2.

Such is my heart--roses are fair,
And that at best a withered blossom;
But thy false care did idly wear
Its withered leaves in a faithless bosom;
And fed with love, like air and dew,
Its growth--

1. Homer's Hymn to Minerva
2. Matilda Gathering Flowers
3. The Fitful Alternations of the Rain
4. To Death
5. I Would Not Be A King

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