Of all the Romantic poets, I do love Keats the best. Why? For stanzas like this one, from "
Ode on a Grecian Urn."
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed | |
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; | |
And, happy melodist, unwearièd, | |
For ever piping songs for ever new; | |
More happy love! more happy, happy love! |
|
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd, | |
For ever panting, and for ever young; | |
All breathing human passion far above, | |
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd, | |
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. |
1 comment:
Yeah but what about William Blake - that guy was OUT OF CONTOL! Kwaheri rafiki, EJCrow
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