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Mutability Analysis



Author: poem of Percy Bysshe Shelley Type: poem Views: 59


We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly! -yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:

Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.

We rest. -- A dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise. -- One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:

It is the same! -- For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutablilty.

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||| Analysis | Critique | Overview Below |||




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I am looking for another meaning or theme of this poem, can anyone help me ?? THANKS..

| Posted on 2013-11-13 | by a guest


.: :.

I am looking for another meaning or theme of this poem, can anyone help me ?? THANKS..

| Posted on 2013-11-13 | by a guest


.: :.

This poem is doo-doo. Only men who like men would like this poem. I don\'t get why everyone thinks he was so good. He is a lot like Shakespeare in the sense that they are both terrible.

| Posted on 2013-01-23 | by a guest


.: :.

According to my own exploration, thousands of people all over the world get the business loans at well known creditors. Thence, there is a good possibility to find a car loan in all countries.

| Posted on 2012-03-13 | by a guest


.: :.

The clouds are the symbols of change, they change shape easily and they dissolve when it rains for example, they actually represent the natural cycle of life we are part of. Clouds are also used in Shelley\'s poem Ode to the West Wind, which is also about change.

| Posted on 2011-11-05 | by a guest


.: :.

Political Correctness is a search for eternal verities. Shelly lays it out clearly. Everything is mutable and that is - paradoxically - life's only constant. Upset a PC person today. Quote this piece of Shelly. Disturb their obsessive and pointless rule-making, because what is true and obvious today, is wrong and inappropriate tomorrow.

| Posted on 2009-11-09 | by a guest


.: :.

We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly! -yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:
Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
We rest. -- A dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise. -- One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:
It is the same! -- For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutablilty.
.

| Posted on 2009-09-07 | by a guest


.: :.

this poem is the most comprehensive of life's constant changes, shelley is adamant that the only thing for sure is that everything changes. of course whether we notice or not they do and shelley wants us to know that if we can take our imagination to the limit we can create a better place for existence in the world. instead of staying in the same common place, with the same consistency such as the "midnight moon"-where the darkness may hold us down in the common world istead of searching for something new.

| Posted on 2009-05-14 | by a guest


.: :.

Percy Bysshe Shelley talks about the "mutability" of life, how things changes so quickly, one moment it's here and next it's gone.
And yes of course I'm human.

| Posted on 2008-04-17 | by a guest


.: :.

We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly! -yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:
Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
We rest. -- A dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise. -- One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:
It is the same! -- For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutablilty.
.

| Posted on 2008-03-16 | by a guest




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