John Keats

To Sorrow
I bade good-morrow,
And though to leave her far away behind;
But read more

To Sorrow
I bade good-morrow,
And though to leave her far away behind;
But cheerly, cheerly,
She loves me dearly:
She is so constant to me, and so kind.

Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; read more

Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep?

Poetry should... should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.

Poetry should... should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.

He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute,
In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans merci."

He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute,
In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans merci."

When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
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When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the grasshopper's--he takes the lead
In summer luxury--he has never done
With his delights, for when tired out with fun,
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.