Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing Heaven, and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,--
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?
Fragment: "to The Moon"
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Poem topics: birth, heaven, earth, worth, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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