When Thou Art Gone

When Thou Art Gone

By: Percy Shelley

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 heap’d for the belov√®d’s bed:
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

Percy Shelley