“Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.Percy Bysshe Shelley
“Thou dirge Of the dying year, to which this closing night Will be the dome of a vast sepulcher. Percy Bysshe Shelley
“Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh, hear! Percy Bysshe Shelley
“Ah woe is me! Winter is come and gone, But grief returns with the revolving year. Percy Bysshe Shelley