 “Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odors, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.” - Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822) Music, when soft Voices die - English, one of great romantic poets, rebelled against strictures of politics & religion.  Email this quote to a friend!If there is an error in this quote please let us know.
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