by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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 If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear; If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee; A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share  
 The impulse of thy strength, only less free Than thou, O uncontrollable! If even I were as in my boyhood, and could be 
 The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven, As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed  Scarce seemed a vision; I would ne'er have striven 
 As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need. Oh, lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! 
 A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed  One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.