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Read more poems by John Keats: John Keats Poems at Poetry X.

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To—

John Keats

Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs
Be echoed swiftly through that ivory shell,
Thine ear, and find thy gentle heart; so well
Would passion arm me for the enterprise:
But ah! I am no knight whose foeman dies;
No cuirass glistens on my bosom's swell;
I am no happy shepherd of the dell
Whose lips have trembled with a maiden's eyes.
Yet must I dote upon thee,—call thee sweet,
Sweeter by far than Hybla's honied roses
When steeped in dew rich to intoxication.
Ah! I will taste that dew, for me 'tis meet,
And when the moon her pallid face discloses,
I'll gather some by spells, and incantation.

Added: 14 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 18 Jul 2018 7:56 PM | Viewed: 3877 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/7790/ | Viewed on 18 July 2018.
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