Music, When Soft Voices Die Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Music, When Soft Voices Die
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
this is so sad and nostalgic! i love the way he closed it: 'love itself shall slumber on.'.
I read this poem when I was a college student. Like love at first sight this poem made a place in my heart and and soul. Yes, I love this poem. I have no reasons for this love, but I shall continue loving this poem. It is my teen aged love.
PBS writes like no other. This poem is testament to that fact. Brilliant.
Omg this inspired me to write poems and now I have a passion for music spring and nature
everything leaves a footprint, whether it's physical or spiritual it does not matter.
One word encapsulates the feeling within this lovely poem - BEAUTIFUL
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/13/2023 1:05:25 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I've loved this 8-line verse by Shelley ever since I first read it in my school days. What an ending! PBS lives on in our hearts.