Lines (Unfelt, unheard, unseen...)

by John Keats

Unfelt, unheard, unseen,
I've left my little queen,
Her languid arms in silver slumber lying:
Ah! through their nestling touch,
Who -- who could tell how much
There is for madness -- cruel, or complying?

Those faery lids how sleek!
Those lips how moist! -- they speak,
In ripest quiet, shadows of sweet sounds:
Into my fancy's ear
Melting a burden dear,
How Love doth know no fulness, and no bounds.

True -- tender monitors!
I bend unto your laws:
This sweetest day for dalliance was born!
So, without more ado,
I'll feel my heaven anew,
For all the blushing of the hasty morn.

1817.

Source:

The poetical works of John Keats.
Copyright 1871
James Miller, 647 Broadway, New York
 
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