Just Shelley

When I go musing all alone  
Thinking of divers things fore-known.  
When I build castles in the air,  
Void of sorrow and void of fear,  
Pleasing myself with phantasms sweet,  
Methinks the time runs very fleet.   
All my joys to this are folly,   
Naught so sweet as melancholy.

When I lie waking all alone,   
Recounting what I have ill done,   
My thoughts on me then tyrannise,   
Fear and sorrow me surprise,   
Whether I tarry still or go,   
Methinks the time moves very slow.   
All my griefs to this are jolly,   
Naught so mad as melancholy.     

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