Poetry

For A Friend ...

O did he ever live, that lonely man,

Who lov'd - and music slew not? 'Tis the pest

Of love, that fairest joys give most unrest;

That things of delecate and tenderest worth

Are swallow'd all, and made a seared dearth,

By one consuming flame: it doth immerse

And suffocate all true blessings in a curse.

Half-happy, by comparison of bliss,

is miserable. 'Twas even so with this

Dew-dropping melody, in the Carian's ear:

First heaven, then hell, and then forgotten clear,

Vanishe'd in elemental passion

John Keats, "Endymon, book II"

Note, All these poems and more can be found at the Poets Library

Keats

Blake

Byron