Explore "Music, when Soft Voices Die" by Percy Bysshe Shelley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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.