As I was watching a white cloud glide across the blue sky, I remembered my favourite poem "The Cloud" by P. B. Shelley. This lovely poem has 84 lines. I am posting the final stanza of the same for the reading pleasure of all my PF friends. To read the entire poem, you can visit:
from where I have posted the last stanza of this wonderful poem.
I am the daughter of earth and water,
And the nursling of the sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain,
The pavilion of heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams,
Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I arise and unbuild it again.
This is the last stanza of the poem "The Cloud" by P. B. Shelley.
19/12/2011, 5:30 pm