Explore "Stanzas-April, 1814" by Percy Bysshe Shelley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon, / Rapid clouds have drank the last pale beam of even: / Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon, / And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.
Pause not! The time is past! Every voice cries, Away! / Tempt not with one last tear thy friend's ungentle mood: / Thy lover's eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay: / Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.