John Keats

O, sorrow!
Why dost borrow
Heart's lightness from the merriment of May?

O, sorrow!
Why dost borrow
Heart's lightness from the merriment of May?

St Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold.

St Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold.

And on the balmy zephyrs tranquil rest
The silver clouds.
- John Keats,

And on the balmy zephyrs tranquil rest
The silver clouds.
- John Keats,

Hear ye not the hum
Of mighty workings?

Hear ye not the hum
Of mighty workings?

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?