EPISODE · Jul 8, 2008 · 1 MIN
283. The Indian Serenade by Percy Bysshe Shelley
from Classic Poetry Aloud · host Classic Poetry Aloud
PB Shelley read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The Indian Serenade by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792 – 1822) Read in memory of Percy Bysshe Shelley, who died of drowning, 8th July 1822. I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright. I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Hath led me—who knows how? To thy chamber window, Sweet! The wandering airs they faint On the dark, the silent stream— And the champak's odours fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream; The nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart, As I must on thine, O belovèd as thou art! O lift me from the grass! I die! I faint! I fail! Let thy love in kisses rain On my lips and eyelids pale. My cheek is cold and white, alas! My heart beats loud and fast: O press it to thine own again, Where it will break at last! For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008
What this episode covers
PB Shelley read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The Indian Serenade by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792 – 1822) Read in memory of Percy Bysshe Shelley, who died of drowning, 8th July 1822. I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright. I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Hath led me—who knows how? To thy chamber window, Sweet! The wandering airs they faint On the dark, the silent stream— And the champak's odours fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream; The nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart, As I must on thine, O belovèd as thou art! O lift me from the grass! I die! I faint! I fail! Let thy love in kisses rain On my lips and eyelids pale. My cheek is cold and white, alas! My heart beats loud and fast: O press it to thine own again, Where it will break at last! For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008
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283. The Indian Serenade by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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