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Happy 217th Birthday, Shelley

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The keen stars were twinkling,
And the fair moon was rising among them,
Dear Jane.
The guitar was tinkling,
But the notes were not sweet till you sung them

As the moon's soft splendour
O'er the faint cold starlight of Heaven
Is thrown,
So your voice most tender
To the strings without soul had then given
Its own.

The stars will awaken,
Though the moon sleep a full hour later
No leaf will be shaken
Whilst the dews of your melody scatter

Though the sound overpowers,
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.

I meant to post this in the morning, but had to go to work. I was actually looking for a different poem. All I remember is that the speaker is being cared for by a nurse, but unfortunately I don't have my collection of Shelley's poetry at work. Feel free to post your favourite poems, anecdotes, thoughts, whatever else comes to mind. :)
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