Fragments (To thirst and find no fill...)
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
To thirst and find no fill, -- to wail and wander
With short unsteady steps, -- to pause and ponder, --
To feel the blood run through the veins and tingle
Where busy thought and blind sensation mingle, --
To nurse the image of unfelt caresses
Till dim imagination just possesses
The half-created shadow, then all the night
Sick . . .
Wealth and dominion fade into the mass
Of the great sea of human right and wrong,
When once from our possession they must pass;
But love, though misdirected, is among
The things which are immortal, and surpass
All that frail stuff which will be -- or which was.
Published 1839, 1st Ed.
Source:The Lyrics and Shorter Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley
Copyright 1907, reprinted 1913
London: J.M. Dent and Sons, Ltd.
New York: E.P. Dutton and Co.