Percy Bysshe Shelley > Quotes > Quote > snowdrops liked it

“I could lie down like a tired child,
And weep away the life of care
Which I have borne, and yet must bear,—
Till death like sleep might steal on me
And I might feel in the warm air
My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea
Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.”
― Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Complete Poems