My soul is an enchanted boat,Which, like a sleeping swan, doth floatUpon the silver waves of thy sweet singing;And thine doth like an angel sitBeside a helm conducting it,Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing.It seems to float ever, for ever,Upon that many-winding river,Between mountains, woods, abysses,A paradise of wildernesses!Till, like one in slumber bound,Borne to the ocean, I float
Home » percy bysshe shelley » Asia: From Prometheus Unbound
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